Send in the Clowns
By: Emma Poe
Tags: The Weekly Knob, Compassion, 237, Fiction, Clowns

When my nephew Beau was diagnosed with cancer, Georgia wound up moving back to Washington, DC and letting our parents rent an apartment close to the hospital for her and her husband Tucker. Tuck couldn’t leave often because of his job, and Georgia spent most of her time at the hospital, It was a lonely little apartment.

I was working as an second grade teacher, making it easy for me to spend a lot of time with Beau. I went every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon and all day on Sunday, until Georgie asked me if I could possibly do Saturday instead, so she could have some time with Tucker. He came on the weekends and I think the whole sick child/being apart thing was taking its toll.

If I hadn’t been there to watch Georgie give birth to Beau, I’d think he was mine, I loved him that much. Beau rarely cried, even as a baby, and as he got older, he’d giggle at anything I said, boosting my ego maybe a bit too much. It was almost impossible to throw shade on his sunny disposition. When Beau was diagnosed with Neuroblastoma at the age of three, I threw my cellphone through a glass plated window and stopped believing in any higher power, although, I still prayed when things were at their worst.

I was spending my first Saturday with Beau— making a enormous tower out of blocks— when a clown poke it’s head into the room. I screamed, knocking the tower over, watching as it clattered to the floor.

Blame Stephen King — any of the hundreds of photosbooksmovies featuring a scary clown— for my irrational fear. But my boy was sick, and some nightmare from my dreams was not getting anywhere near him.

My first instinct was to cover Beau with my body, even as he tried his hardest to push me aside while he giggled at both my reaction and the clown in the room.

“Hello Dr Giggles.” Beau wiggled with excitement.

The clown bowed to him. “Hello young Beau. May we visit with you today?”

Beau didn’t answer, just reached into his drawer, grabbed a plastic red nose and put it on. He whispered to me, “The nose means i’m viting them to visit.”

As I sat there trying to grasp what was going on, three clowns entered the room, one on a tricycle holding the leash of a poodle dyed pink. It was too much. I choked out, “You visit with your friends, baby. I’ll be back in a bit,” right before I fled.

I wound up going over to see Beau’s buddy Teddy and his family. Teddy was six and had Acute Myeloid Leukemia. I don’t think he was responding well to treatment. The chemo turned these babies into big-eyed old men and even though Teddy was two years older than Beau, he was a lot smaller. Every time I saw Teddy’s room, I felt an aching loneliness, almost a homesick feeling for a place that’d never existed.

Teddy’s whole family was always there. Two sets of grandparents, all called Maw-Maw and Paw-Paw — and his mom. Teddy was laying on his bed, fragile and pale, but he still smiled when I popped my head in. “Julie! Did you bring any Legos?”

His mom and the Maw-Maws and Paw-Paws scurried around getting me banana bread, fruit, whatever they had, it was offered. I wriggled around all the tubing and sat next to Teddy. “I had to skedattle out of Beau’s room. So weird. A bunch of clowns came in.”

Teddy actually sat up. “Dr. Giggles is here? Oh boy! That means he’ll be here soon!”

The two of us played rock, paper, scissors until a doctor showed up with a few interns. The clowns came in right after and Teddy quickly put on a red nose. As I was sneaking out of the room, I saw one of the clowns slip a bicycle horn up the doctor’s coat and blow. It dawned on me that these clowns gave the kids a chance to make fun of this thing everyone was afraid to talk about. To be irreverent and laugh at the people or even more; the thing in charge.

My parents spent a couple Saturday mornings with Beau, so I didn’t see the clowns for a few weeks. Beau wasn’t feeling good the first Saturday I was back and the nurses gave him something that helped but made him sleepy. I slipped away to see Teddy when Beau dozed off.

Teddy’s door was partially open and I rapped lightly and poked my head in. Somehow I knew from the smell in the air that there had been a change. I heard his family crying and I pulled back quickly, ashamed and numb by what I’d just walked in on.

“No!” Teddy’s Mom’s voice called out in a dull yet needy voice. “Julie, please come back. Teddy loved you so much. I know he’d want you here.”

I didn’t want to go but but I was not walking away. I moved over to his mom and wrapped my arms around her. Teddy was so tiny on the bed, everything was broken.

There was another knock and the troupe of clowns began to walk in then stopped, not knowing what to do. One of Teddy’s Maw-Maws went over to Dr Giggles and feebly took his hand. “Can you sing a song for our baby and help send him on his way.”

Dr. Giggles walked over and gently picked Teddy up while the rest of the clowns encircled them. He began to gently rock Teddy and with a nod, they all broke into a song.

He floats through the air, with the greatest of ease

That daring young man on the flying trapeze…

I closed my eyes and let the music, the moment, the fierce love draw a picture in my memories of Teddy, laughing and jumping like any little boy.