A couple weeks later, Sylvie was sitting on the bumper of 61 checking the inventory when she saw a man walking up the driveway. He was tall, looked to be in his 30s, and she was sure she'd never seen him before in her life.

"Are you Sylvie Brett?" he asked.

"Yeah?" she said cautiously, "Can I help you?"

"A guy named Matt Casey asked me to come see you, is this a bad time?" he asked.

"As long as the bells don't go off, you're fine," she answered as she put her clipboard down. "How can I help you?"

"You don't remember me, do you?"

"Uh...I'm sorry, I don't think so."

"I didn't think you would," he said. "I was at Med last month when you and your partner brought somebody in, my friends and I had just gotten off the elevator."

"Oh!" Sylvie's eyes bugged out as she realized he was one of the clowns, and she groaned and grimaced as she said, "I am so sorry, I'm embarrassed about what happened."

"Oh hey," he raised a hand, "It's okay, it happens more often than you think."

"It does?" she asked.

"Clowns definitely aren't for everyone," he said, "Oh, sorry, I'm David Bullingham."

"Nice to meet you," she shook his hand. "Uh, why don't you sit down?"

"Thanks," he parked himself on the bumper beside her.

"So how do you know Matt Casey?" she asked.

"Uh, I don't, he was standing around Med the other day waiting for us when we got done up in the pediatric oncology ward."

"Oof, that's rough," she said sympathetically.

He nodded, "Those kids are the strongest people I know."

"Can I ask you a question?" Sylvie asked. "What exactly...made you decide to..."

"Well it's all volunteer, it's not a career," David said. "I'm a legal scribe in my 'off' hours."

"Ahh," Sylvie said. "I'm sorry, I've, I've...been trying to make some sense out of all this...but the thing is I just...don't do clowns...I've...always been afraid of them."

"I definitely understand," David told her, "I always was too."

"What?" Sylvie blinked. "You're kidding."

He shook his head. "Those bastards always scared the hell out of me at my friends' birthday parties."

Sylvie laughed. "Seems to be a common theme." She stopped laughing and asked, "But then how'd you..."

"Well there's no real easy answer to that," David told her. "I guess it really started with my mother."

"Your mother?"

"Yeah, she married right out of high school, thought she'd found her Prince Charming...two weeks after the wedding he started beating her. It was different times, I mean it was still illegal but people acted like it wasn't a big deal. Her parents were from another time and place entirely, said if she was a good wife, he wouldn't have to hit her all the time."

"Oh God," Sylvie said.

"Yeah, so big surprise they were no help, neighbors heard things, but nobody wanted to get involved...and she knew even if she called the police, there wasn't a lot they could do, maybe take him for a weekend, he'd come back on Monday and beat her even harder for filing a complaint against him. Well, I guess a person can just take something for so long before they finally get fed up enough that they can't do it anymore."

"So what'd she do?" Sylvie asked.

"One day when he was at work, she left, and went down to the police station," David answered, "And enrolled in the academy."

"What?"

"Her solution to stop the abuse was to become a cop herself," David explained. "Because he beat her as his wife, that wasn't a big deal, he assaults her as a police officer, his ass was going away for a long time and she could personally see to that. He never messed with her again after that. He knew he'd then have the wrath of the entire police force to deal with and he was too much of a coward to take them on."

"Wow," Sylvie's eyes bugged out. "That's amazing, but, I don't understand what that has to do with this."

"Well, after about 20 years of panic attacks and breaking out in hives every time I saw a clown," David told her, "I decided the only way to conquer that fear was to become one myself. I mean the logic's there, clowns are regular people, just made up, it's actually keeping that part in mind that's tricky."

"And that worked?" Sylvie asked.

"Not right away," he shook his head, "It took a few tries but I finally got the hang of it. It's a bit different when you see yourself going through the process."

"Can I ask you a question?" Sylvie asked. "Do any of the kids, ever..."

"Oh there are a few that aren't too big on us coming to visit," David answered, "and I know if they had their druthers they'd rather be anywhere but where they are, but giving everything they're going through, clowns kind of pale in comparison to what's scary."

"Yeah," Sylvie said glumly, "I guess that's true."

Okay, Sylvie thought to herself, I can do this...I can do this...I can do this...no I can't!

Her stomach churned and she stepped back and pressed herself against the wall, she took a deep breath and stepped forward again, and stood at the bathroom sink and looked at her reflection. She picked up the makeup kit on the counter, tore the plastic off of it, picked up the yellow makeup sponge and dipped it into the tray of white face paint and slowly started dabbing it on.

So far it was pretty uneventful. She saw her face gradually becoming whiter, but nothing happened. She still wasn't quite sure how she wanted to do this, she looked at the other colors in the tray and the small brush to apply them. It was almost like carving a jack-o-lantern, how did you decide what face to put on it? You didn't want it to look like everybody else's but then you got stuck trying to figure out what you did want.

She dipped the stiff brush into the black makeup and drew two long lines from the corners of her mouth to extend her smile. Then, instead of using the costume makeup, she took out her lipstick and drew a little heart shape in the middle of her lips, like the way they made women's mouths visible in the old silent black and white movies. She'd left the space around her eyes blank since she didn't know yet what to do with them. Looking at her regular makeup on the counter, she got an idea, and picked up a purple eye shadow pencil, and carefully drew and filled in two large purple diamonds running from her cheeks to up over her eyebrows. The face before her in the mirror changed, but it was still her face, she was still there.

When Sylvie finally finished, she pushed the makeup aside on the counter and stared at her reflection for a minute, and she slowly realized that her new appearance didn't give her that prickly pins and needles feeling of anxiety, her stomach wasn't rolling, her heart wasn't racing, her breathing wasn't labored...there was nothing scary about it, because she knew it was her, and while she didn't exactly look like herself, she still felt like herself.

Looking at the clock she realized she was going to be late. She left the bathroom and scrambled to get her jacket and her purse. None of her clothes had really been appropriate for this, so she improvised with a black and white striped shirt and a pair of black overalls, and a pair of neon two-tone sneakers she bummed around in on her days off.

She was halfway to her car when she saw David leaning against it, already made up in white face paint, black exaggerated eyebrows, a red and yellow check coat that looked like golf pants in a previous life, a purple tie that went down to his knees and a pair of tan pants that were two sizes too big.

"Sorry!" she said as she ran over to him, "I lost track of the time."

"You're fine, the others are gonna meet us at East Mercy," he said.

"How do I look?" she held her arms out to the sides in presentation.

"Perfect," he told her. "You sure you're alright with this?"

She nodded and said, "Let's just go before I manage to talk myself out of this."

They got in her car and she pulled out and headed towards the hospital.

"So I have a very stupid question," she said. "What do I do?"

"I'm sure it'll come naturally for you," David told her.

"Well what if I can't do it?" she asked. "What if I have to leave?"

"Then leave," he said.

"What about them?" Sylvie asked.

"We'll just tell them your elephant's double parked and you had to move it," he said nonchalantly.

Sylvie busted out laughing.

The mood quickly changed though when they heard the brief whirr of a police siren and saw blue flashing lights in the rear view mirror.

"Uh oh," Sylvie said, "what do you think he wants?"

David glanced at the speedometer and said equally nonchalantly, "Well you're doing 60."

"I am?" Sylvie asked, and looked herself, and lowered her head and hit it against the wheel, "oh pickles..."

"Better pull over."

"I know, I know," Sylvie said as she promptly slowed down and pulled over to the side. She reached for her purse and while she looked for her driver's license she told David, "Will you get my registration card out?"

A patrolman walked up to the car, leaned in the window and started to say, "License and re-" and then stopped as his face froze in an expression that would be amusing to anyone who wasn't personally involved in the situation.

Sylvie got her license and her card together and asked the patrolman, "Yes, officer?"

He reeled back with an almost disgusted look on his face and just waved dismissively, "Go on...go on, get out of here."

"Oh!" Sylvie's eyebrows raised as she handed the card back to David, "Thank you very much, officer, we really appreciate it, I'm so sorry, we're running late, I'll go slow, I promise, thank you, have a nice day."

Once they were a few traffic lights away from the patrol car the two laughed at what had just taken place.

"How do you think he's going to explain that one to his boss?" Sylvie asked.

"I don't know, but I'd love to be a fly on the wall for that," David replied.

Sylvie raised a finger to her lips and addressed a group of kids piled together on two hospital beds and asked them in a stage whisper, "Do you want to hear a secret?"

"Yes," they said eagerly.

Sylvie crouched down by the bed and said in an exaggerated whisper, "I hear, there're clowns in this hospital."

The boys and girls all laughed.

"I hope I don't see any of them," she said, "you know why?"

"No," they chorused as they shook their heads.

Sylvie shook in her knees and told them, "I'm afraid of clowns."

The kids erupted in laughter. One little girl pointed to her and said, "You're a clown!"

"Clown?!" Sylvie jumped up and looked around every which way, "Where? Where?"

The kids laughed so hard at her antics they squealed and fell against each other.

"Hey," she said, "would you guys like to play, crazy eights?"

"Yeah!"

"Well that's good, because it just so happens I always have a deck of cards with me, right...right..." Sylvie felt through her pockets, "I know it's here somewhere," she started pulling odds and ends out of her pockets and setting them on a bedside table: a pack of Tic-tacs, a bottle of bubbles, her car keys, her phone, a pocket flashlight, all of which made the kids teeter as she searched for the cards. "Well that's odd, I always keep a deck of cards right next to my heart," she patted the pocket on her overall bibs, then her face lit up as she said, "I know!" and reached around for her back pocket, the kids fell back against the bed laughing. "Okay," she said, "who wants to be the dealer?"

All the kids raised their hands.

"Okay, there's one way to settle this," she said, "who here's the youngest?"

A little girl who looked about five raised her hand.

"Sweetie, do you know how to spell 'rhinoceros'?" Sylvie asked.

"No," she answered.

"Perfect, then you get to be the dealer," she said.

The other kids all laughed.

Sylvie was glad she always carried a pack of makeup remover wipes in her purse. She'd stopped in the hospital ladies room and used the entire pack, and several of the paper towels in the dispenser and the liquid hand soap to get her clown makeup off. It had been one thing coming in like that, but now that her visit was over, she wanted to look like herself again on the way out. Traces of the white makeup still remained around the edges of her face and right under her hair, but it would keep until she got home.

As she pushed the restroom door open and stepped out into the hall, she caught sight of David leaning against the wall waiting on her, he was still in his clown getup.

"So how did I do?" she asked.

He made an 'OK' sign with one gloved hand, "Terrific, you're a born natural with kids."

"You think so?"

"Oh yeah, they're drawn to you, so, how was it?" he asked.

She thought about how to answer, and she shook her head. "I bring these kids in when they're hurt, sick, scared...policy is we get them here and we move on, we don't followup on how they're doing...to see them smile, to see them laugh, to see them happy while they're suffering so much...it's...it's unreal."

He nodded, "That's what came to mind the first time I did it...still does every single time."

"I really had a great time, David," she said, "but," she shook her head, "I don't know...I don't think..."

"It's not for everyone," he told her, "but, if you ever change your mind..." he slipped something in her hand, "Here's my card."

"Your card?" Sylvie asked, puzzled, then did a double take when she saw it, "Oh your business card, of course." In that moment she felt like the living definition of a dumb blonde.

"You know," David said, "odds are we're probably going to be seeing each other again."

Sylvie nodded, "I'll definitely try not to faint again if we do."

He chuckled.

"I can't promise I won't scream though," she added.

"That's fine," he said.

"So," Sylvie said to Casey the next shift as they walked up to the apparatus floor, "I guess I owe you a big thank you."

"It help?" he asked.

"Well, time will tell on that one," she said, "I mean it's different with David because I know him now...I can kind of separate the man from the clown makeup."

"Right," he nodded.

"You should've seen it though," she said, "those kids loved it. I recognized some of them from calls...the pediatric burn ward."

"Ohh," Casey lowly replied in understanding.

"I really think we made their day," Sylvie told him.

"Probably their whole week," Casey responded. "So?"

She turned and looked at him, "So what?"

"Gonna do it again?"

She got out half a laugh and answered, "I don't know...I mean I'd like to but...I just don't know."

"What about David?"

"What about him?" Sylvie asked.

When Casey didn't answer, she turned and looked at him and the coy look on his face said it all.

"Oh no," she shook her head determinedly, "No, uh uh, no, he's nice enough but I am not dating a clown."

"Too much?"

"Just a bit, I wouldn't mind getting a ring but I don't need three of them," Sylvie replied.

That comment got a laugh out of the lieutenant.

"Besides," Sylvie said, "The way I see it, I already have a clown in my life, at least three days a week."

"Who?" Casey asked.

They exchanged a look and simultaneously reached the same conclusion, "Capp."

"And he's scary enough without the makeup," Sylvie added, getting an even bigger laugh out of Casey.

Through the closed door to Sylvie's bedroom, the somewhat muffled sound of her continuous laughing was enough to irk the curiosity of her two roommates, who stood outside, listening, and looking to one another, wondering what to do.

"What do you think?" Cruz asked, "Should we go in and see?"

"Trust me, when you have a female roommate and her door's closed and she's making that much noise alone," Otis said and shook his head, "You do not go in."

The laughter quickly stopped and was suddenly replaced with a blood curdling screaming.

"Now we go in," Otis said.

Cruz reached the door, ready to bust it in, but found it was unlocked, the door swung open and they about fell in to see what was the matter, and were both immediately met with the image of Sylvie sitting back on her bed with a set of headphones plugged into her tablet.

Sylvie seemed oblivious to why they were there, but ripped her headphones off, her chest heaving, her breathing ragged, and told her two roommates, "Okay...some of those older Bozos, are very creepy."

The two men exchanged a confused look and went over to the bed, Cruz picked up her tablet to see what she was talking about, and they both saw an image of a clown with a big red nose, a big red painted on grin, a white face, very unusually shaped red hair that seemed fused to the sides of his face, and two big black drawn on eyebrows that went all the way up his forehead, in the shapes of upside down U's. It was enough to make both men recoil at the sight of it. Otis turned to Cruz and asked, "People used to take their kids on this show?"

It was then that both firemen did a double take and looked at their roommate in puzzlement.

Okay, you can do this, it's just a doll...it's just a doll, it's just...a...doll...

Sylvie took out the clown doll she'd had Casey put in a trash bag, and looked at it slowly. She breathed in slowly and tried to see the doll as it originally looked when it was first made. Without the makeup it would look like a perfectly ordinary doll...with wild red hair. But if it hadn't been made as a clown, it probably would've looked like a girl with wild red hair, definitely not like the old Raggedy Ann dolls, more like if an Aerial the Little Mermaid doll had been plugged into an electrical socket. She looked at it and reminded herself it was just plastic and fabric, it wasn't real, it couldn't hurt her. At the same time though, she couldn't figure out who would ever give something like this to a little kid.

It was just a piece of plastic with paint on it, it wasn't real, it wasn't alive. Sylvie took in a shaky breath and hesitantly stood it up on her dresser, and stepped back. It balanced well, it didn't wobble, it held perfectly still and could hold itself upright, so that lessened the chances it could fall down in the middle of the night and scare the hell out of her.

She could do this, she thought as she inched her way back against the wall. She could leave it up there, and look at it, and when she got tired of looking at it, put it back in the bag and lock it in her closet.

Sylvie turned around and headed over to her closet, she turned back and saw the clown doll standing in the same position. She took a set of clothes out, spun on her heel and looked at it again, as if she could catch it changing positions, but it was right where she left it.

"Okay," she said half to herself, "now that we've got that settled..."

Mouch had an unusual expression of confusion on his face as he made his way to the common room, one arm out to his side, toting something he'd found on the floor by his thumb and forefinger.

"Did anybody lose this?" he asked uncertainly as he held up the clown doll in a blue one piece suit with a white face and rainbow hair.

"Where'd that come from?" Herrmann asked in a disgusted tone.

"It probably belongs to one of the kids that was here this morning on the field trip," Otis said.

"Yeah well get rid of that thing before Brett comes in," Herrmann said, "that thing's even making my skin crawl, she definitely doesn't need to see that thing."

"See what thing?" Sylvie asked as she entered the room.

The guys crowded around Mouch who was futilely trying to hide the doll behind his back.

"Nothing," Cruz offered.

"Come on guys, what's going on?" Sylvie asked.

"It's just...nothing," Otis repeated.

Sylvie made her way past them and snagged the doll from Mouch's grip and looked at it. "Ohhh, one of those kids must've dropped this before they left," she said, "I passed the bus on the way back, I'll see if I can run it back to the school real quick."

Brett noticed everybody in the room looking at her strangely. "What?"

"Are you feeling okay, Brett?" Herrmann asked.

She giggled, "I'm fine, Herrmann." She headed out of the room but turned back at the last second and said simply, "It's just a doll."

Once she was gone, everybody looked at everybody else and Herrmann took it upon himself to ask, "Okay, who was that and what's she done with Brett?"

"Should I ask?" Casey asked as he saw Brett coming his way carrying a clown doll in her arms.

"One of the kids lost this, I'm going to try and catch the bus and get it back to its rightful owner," she explained. She stopped in mid-step just long enough to look at him and said, "Thanks, Casey."

"No problem, Brett."

The End