“You weren’t going to invite her in?”
I could not fathom why she had left her mother in the car.
“I told her to come inside,” the pharmacist explained, “But she didn’t want to. She wanted to wait in the car.”
Well, that wasn’t a stretch, older folk tend to do what older folk want to do. I left it alone. The pharmacist worked the rest of her hour and left with her mother.
The next week when I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed someone was sitting in her passenger seat again. Convinced it was her mother who refused to come into the pharmacy, I pulled up beside the car and parked. When I looked over to wave, I got the surprise of a lifetime. It wasn’t her mother that sat in the seat but a clown. A clown. I jumped/jolted a little out of my seat before I reached over and locked my doors. Whoever this person was, sat still in the passenger seat. The guy was kind of slumped to the side as if he were sleeping but his eyes were wide open. His head rested on his shoulder in such a fashion that it made me think of all the scary clown movies I had ever seen. It wasn’t even close to Halloween. What was happening?
Did someone dressed as a clown get drunk and break into her car for a nap? I looked away for a second, partly to make sure I wasn’t crazy and the other part was not to be rude; staring at someone like that was just as creepy. When I looked back up, the guy was still looking at me. I thought about calling inside the pharmacy for help or at least to tell them to call 911. Who dresses up like clown and then breaks into people’s cars? Or worse, did she know this person?
He didn’t move though, he just watched. For half a second, I thought he was dead; which didn’t help. Then I realized, he wasn’t breathing. But he wasn’t breathing because he wasn’t human. It was a doll. A Life Sized Clown Doll. Randomly sitting in a parked car, in broad daylight, at a pharmacy. Is this how I go?
Either someone slipped me something and seeing clowns or there was really a life size clown doll sitting there, glaring at me with its possessed eyes. Who in their right mind would put a possessed, life sized, clown doll in someone’s car? That was a terrible trick.
I bolted out of my car into the pharmacy. The pharmacist smiled at me from behind the counter, but I wasn’t smiling back. I threw my thumb over my shoulder, pointing to her car.
“Did you know someone put a life-sized clown doll in your car?” I spit.
She laughed like it was funny.
“I put him in there,” she said, “Someone gave him to me, and I had no where else to put him until I get home.”
“Did that someone hate you,” I asked, “You’re actually taking it home?”
“Well yeah,” she said, “he was given to me, what else can I do with him?”
“Open the car door on the interstate,” I shouted, “That thing will kill you in the middle of the night.”
“No, he won’t,” she told me, brushing it off, “He’s cute, he won’t do anything.”
First of all, you need your vision checked. Second, Madam, you’re crazy. The last thing I need is some clown doll roaming around this town killing people off. But that is exactly what you’ve brought upon us.
When it begins, you’ll be the first to go.