The first low blow

- Arthur! I got you a new job. It's at the children's hospital. They want you to do some clown stuff...see if you can cheer them up. Apparently they're depressed about something, who knows...

- Children's hospital? Really?

- Yes! Are you deaf?!

- No, it's just...ah, thank you so much! I'll love to do that job!

- Yes yes yes, shut up and hurry with the damn makeup. Don't waste my time and don't be late!

- Yes, sir.

It's the best place Hoyt could've sent me to! I sit down in front of the mirror and start with my makeup. I always take my shirt off to do this, so I don't stain my collar.

- Hello Artie!

- Hello Gary!

- You're in a good mood today!

- Yes, Hoyt just sent me to the children's hospital. Its great, don't you think?

- I'm glad, Artie! I got sent to the mall. Guess what! There's a home appliances store that brags about having the "lowest" prices, get it? Lowest! And apparently they think that I represent their slogan very well...

- HAHAHAHAHA... great, Gary. Sorry, but this time it really is funny!

- Hahaha...I guess it is...

- Hey, Gary...

- Yes?

- I met a girl...very pretty by the way! She says that she might come and see me at Pogo's! I've decided to try my luck on Thursday. I've prepared some jokes.

- That's awesome, Artie! I'm happy for you.

- Thanks, Gary! Do you think she'll go?

- Of course! Why wouldn't she? I'm sure you'll make her laugh.

Gary lifts my spirits.

- She said it out of pity.- a voice interrupts us.

I hadn't realized that Randall was here, listening. He stands behind me and our eyes meet in the mirror. Randy is not like Gary, he's my colleague but he's not really my friend.

- Come on, just look at yourself! Who could want you? What woman could possibly be interested in you? Women look for strong men, muscular and handsome. Men who are sure of themselves, someone who can protect them.

I observe my figure in the mirror. My bony torso, my pale, bruised skin. I see my emaciated face, my tired eyes, my clown make up...a white foundation, the blue around the eyes and the red mouth. A fake smile. Randall is right...who could want me? Certainly not a woman as special as Sophie.

- See? She pities you. You're nothing but a sad clown.

A tear springs from my right eye and runs down my cheek, running the blue and staining the white.

- Shut up, Randy!- says Gary.

- I'm only trying to help. Ain't it so, Art?

Randall puts an arm around my shoulder and smiles at me through the mirror. I look down. I don't like his smile. It makes me very uncomfortable. Randall can be very intimidating.

- I don't want my boy to get all excited and end up getting hurt.

I feel his hand squeezing my arm.

My boy...

I hate how those words sound. I don't know why, I just know that I hate them.

- Isn't that so, Artie?!- Randall insists.

His voice becomes threatening. His fingers dig into my arm. He hurts me.

- Leave him, Randy!- says Gary, trying to defend me.

- Stay out of this, malformed dwarf!

Randall lets go of me and leaves.

- Artie are you ok?- asks Gary, frightened.

- Yes, Gary. Nothing happened...

The children's hospital is a strange place where all feelings mix. There are children without hair, children on wheelchairs, others who are connected to an oxygen tank, others who can't get up from their beds. It's a sad place.

In their faces I see all the demons of this world. Abandonment, despair, resignation. There's a light that goes off in their eyes. These poor souls that begin to understand that there's no dream that is not destined to be broken, no flower that isn't born to wither, no innocence that endures without corrupting. I feel an enormous anguish taking hold of me, something much bigger than myself, that is this horrifying universal fear.

But in spite of all that, all these children rejoice when they see me walk in. Those who can, get up and approach me, the others just watch. But they all smile. I teach them songs and games and magic tricks. I dance for them and tell them jokes. They borrow my clown nose and my wig. And I, who can't even help myself, feel moved by knowing that I'm able to help these little angels.

- I have a new job...one that I love.

- I'm glad to hear that...

- I bring you good news for the first time since I started this therapy and you don't say anything more?

The therapist looks down, sighs and looks at me again.

- Arthur, this is the last time we will be speaking...I'm sorry.

- ...

- They're cutting all social programs. They say there's no funding. I'm sorry...

It's a low blow. I didn't see this coming...

- Where am I supposed to get my prescriptions now?

- I'm really sorry...you must understand that they don't give a damn about any of this. They don't care about people like you...and they honestly don't care about people like me either.

What else can I do but lighting another cigarette? Although I wasn't enjoying these sessions, I believe they were truly helping me. And without the pills I'll feel worse than I already do. I don't even know who to take it out on...they don't have a face. There's no funding they say...but for the Thomas Waynes of this world, there's plenty.

The palaces of the rich are cemented with the misery of the poor.

- Who will help me now?- I ask, feeling dejected.

- Try to continue with your diary, Arthur. Try to carry on without the pills. God will help you.

- God? HAHAHAHAH...He's the worst comedian of all.- I laugh bitterly.

- The world is nothing more than a big bad joke.

- You don't believe in God, Arthur?

- I do. I believe that God is a pretty clumsy guy...when he created man, he didn't realize he was also creating the devil.

At night, when I sit down to write my diary, I feel that my mind is blank. My thoughts seem light, floating casually from one place to another. I don't write anything down. I take the last pills I have left. The gun I was keeping in my bag is now on the table. I contemplate it. My fingers run across its cold body. I take it in my hand. I watch my reflection in the window. I point the gun to my temple. I close my eyes. My body shivers.

There's a voice inside my head, but it's not mine.

Arthur is my friend...I love him very much...would you like a cup of tea?...please, stay...you're a good man, Arthur...

I open my eyes. I lower the gun. I put it back in the bag from where I should never have taken it.

My hands return to the open notebook on the table. I search for a blank page and tear it off. I stretch it out and start folding it until I make a paper flower. It's something I learned to do, a clown thing. I take out some of my red paint which I use for my smile and paint the petals. Then I apply some green to the stem and leaves.

I cross the hallway and stop in front of apartment 8B. I fix my hair and straighten my shirt collar. I'm holding a paper flower in my hand. I hear Sophie's voice between the noise of the TV. I lift my hand to knock on the door but something stops me. I can't.

She pities you...look at yourself...who could want you?...nothing but a sad clown... who could want you?...

I lower my hand. I put the flower in my pocket. I turn around and go back home.