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A Nightmare on Clown Street
A Nightmare on Clown Street Read online
CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
WELCOME. YOU ARE MOST WANTED.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALSO AVAILABLE
COPYRIGHT
Come in. I’m R.L. Stine. Welcome to the Goosebumps office.
Have a seat. Yes, I know. It smells a little weird. Ernie, my zombie friend, was here this morning. I asked him, “Why the surprise visit?” Ernie said he was bored. Things were dead at his house.
I asked Ernie what he’d like to do. He said he would kill for some lunch. Unfortunately, he meant it.
Ernie said he was on a diet. No in-between-meal snacks. Just three servings of human flesh a day.
Well, I see you are admiring the WANTED posters on the wall. Those posters show the creepiest, crawliest, grossest Goosebumps characters of all time. They are the MOST WANTED characters from the MOST WANTED books.
That poster you are studying is of Murder the Clown. Why do they call him Murder? Because he kills the audience!
Don’t pay attention to the axe buried in Murder’s head. He is actually a very good clown. He just happens to work at the most frightening circus on earth.
A boy named Ray Gordon can tell you all about it. Ray is about to wish that he’d never visited the circus.
Go ahead. Read Ray’s story. You will find out why Murder the Clown is MOST WANTED.
I guess it all started when my friend Heather James and I sneaked out of my house and crept down the street to the little circus two blocks away. If I had known what frightening surprises the summer held in store for me, would I have stayed home that night?
I don’t think so.
My name is Ray Gordon, and I’m twelve. People call me Ray Gun — even my parents — I guess because I’m kind of explosive. I mean, I don’t like to sit still. I’m always shooting off in different directions.
My dad is an artist for an ad agency here in Tampa. Dad can sit at his computer for hours working on one drawing. I can barely sit through a morning of school.
Anyway, Heather came over after dinner to work on our science project. Heather is short and very thin, with a ponytail of light brown hair, pale green eyes, and a lot of freckles. She wore a bright green T-shirt over white shorts.
Our parents are best friends. So Heather and I grew up together like brother and sister. Sometimes we fight like brother and sister. She’s the careful type. She likes to be the good girl. She thinks I’m a little crazy because I don’t always think about what I do.
Like the time I found that miniature horse walking in the empty lot down the street and tried to keep it in my room. But let’s not talk about that.
Heather and I sat across from each other at my kitchen table. We had a bowl of nacho chips and a bowl of pretzels in front of us.
I could hear voices down the hall. My parents’ book club was meeting in our den.
We couldn’t agree on what our science project should be. I said we should do a study on invisibility and bring in an invisible project to school. That would be totally easy.
Heather rolled her eyes. She didn’t like that idea.
I said, “We could do some experiments with different liquids. See which ones your dog Clyde will drink.”
Heather hit the tabletop with her fist. “No way. I’m not giving Clyde weird things to drink.”
“Even for an A in science?” I said.
“Shut up, Ray,” she replied. “I think we should do something with soil.”
“Huh? Soil? You mean like dirt?”
“We could get different kinds of soil and try to grow stuff in them,” Heather said.
“You’re kidding, right? Gardening? Why don’t you just kill me now?” I groaned.
This was going nowhere. I had a better idea than working on this project. Actually, I’d been planning it all day.
I pushed my chair back and stood up. “Follow me,” I said. I waved her toward the kitchen door.
Her green eyes flashed. “Where are we going?” she demanded.
I raised a finger to my lips. “Ssssh.”
I could hear a woman reading something out loud in the den. I didn’t want my parents to know Heather and I were going out. It’s no fun to sneak out if people know about it.
I pulled open the kitchen door. The warm evening air blew in. “We’ll have an adventure,” I said.
“No. Really,” Heather said. “We have to stay and work on this project. We’re already late, and we don’t have a clue what we’re doing.”
But I stepped out into the backyard. I knew Heather would follow me.
The air felt hot, as if I’d stepped into an oven. My parents keep the air conditioning cranked up pretty high. The sun had just gone down. The sky was streaked gray and purple. A bird cooed from somewhere in the lemon tree at the back of the yard.
Heather bumped me from behind. “Where are we going, Ray?”
“It’s a surprise,” I said, moving along the side of the house toward the street.
“And we’re doing this because?”
I turned back to her and whispered, “Because we’re going to join the circus.”
“We’re what?” She stopped walking and crossed her arms in front of her. She squinted at me the way she often does, like I’m some kind of nut job.
“A joke,” I said. “Just joking. Come on, Heather. We’re going to the empty lot. Two blocks, that’s all.”
“The empty lot?” She trotted to catch up to me. “You found another mini horse?”
“Hey, I told you never to mention that again — remember?”
We both laughed.
We crossed the street. Our neighborhood is usually quiet and empty. But cars jammed the next block. Dozens of people were walking along the curb. They were all heading to the empty lot.
As we came closer, I could see the tall, brown canvas tent. Red and white lights flashed around it. Marching band music floated in the air.
“It’s a circus,” I told Heather. “A little one-tent circus.”
She sniffed. “Mmmmm. I can smell the popcorn.”
People were crossing the grassy field, hurrying toward the tent. I heard some kids shouting: “Ray Gun! Hey, Ray Gun!” Kids from our school with their parents. I flashed them a thumbs-up.
We passed the popcorn booth. A sign over the window said CORN POPPED WHILE U WAIT. In the next booth, two women were spinning cones of green-and-purple cotton candy. Ahead of us, a bald man in a white apron carried a tray of salted pretzels.
“Too bad I had a big supper,” Heather said.
“We didn’t come here for the food,” I told her. “We came for the circus show.”
She squinted at me. “Since when are you into circuses?”
“Since my uncle Theo visited last year,” I said. “He’s a clown in another circus. And he’s the most awesome guy. He’s so funny. You’d love him.”
The big red-and-gold sign over the entrance to the tent read: FINGER BROS. CIRCUS. My uncle had told me about the Finger brothers
. They had little circuses all over Florida.
“I Googled this circus,” I said. “I can’t wait to see the white tiger. It’s one of the rarest tigers in the world.”
She shook her head. “Wow. You really are into circuses.”
“My uncle Theo got me interested,” I said. I heard a trumpeting roar from somewhere behind the big tent. Probably one of the elephants showing off.
The music on the loudspeakers cut off, and a voice announced: “The big show is about to begin. Take your seats, everyone. Take your seats.”
I saw two ticket booths at the opening to the show tent. Each booth had a man in a red ringmaster coat and tall top hat taking tickets from the people pouring in.
I started to the opening, but Heather grabbed my arm and pulled me back.
“Hey, let go. The show is starting,” I said.
“Ray, I didn’t bring any money,” she said. “Do you have any for the tickets?”
I shook my head.
“Then how are we going to get in?” she asked.
“No worries,” I said. “We’ll sneak in.”
“No way!” Heather cried. She grabbed my arm and pulled me across the grass. “Come on. We’re going back to your house to think up a science project.”
I tugged my arm free. “We’re going to sneak in. It’s easy,” I told her. “We’ll just walk right in.”
“You’re crazy, Ray. You really are nutsoid.”
“Heather, don’t you like adventure?” I said.
“No,” she replied. “Actually, I hate adventure. Especially when it means we’re going to be caught. And arrested. And if we’re not arrested, we’ll be totally embarrassed. And I hate to be embarrassed.”
“I really want to see the white tiger,” I said. “This is our chance. Follow me and don’t act guilty.”
“Excuse me?” she cried. “Don’t act guilty? What does that mean?”
I pointed. “See how big groups of people are walking in? They’re in a hurry because the show is starting. So, we just wait for a bunch of people to walk in together. And we get into the middle of them and go in with them.”
I took her hand and started to lead her to the tent. “I’m not happy about this,” she said. “Seriously. I’m not happy.”
“Stop being so tense,” I said. “We’re practically in.”
I waited by the side of the tent entrance till a group of seven or eight people approached a ticket booth. “Come on,” I said. “This is it.”
Heather and I pushed past two or three of them and worked our way into the middle of their group. We all started walking into the tent.
“Hey, you kids!”
I jumped and a startled squeak escaped my throat. A stern voice boomed: “Stop right there. Where do you think you’re going? I’m calling the police.”
Okay. So Plan A didn’t work.
The two ticket-takers in top hats blocked our path. “Sorry, kids. No pay, no play,” the taller one said.
“I … uh … left my tickets at home,” I said.
“Well, why don’t you run home and get them,” he said. “We’ll wait for you right here.”
Heather dug an elbow into my ribs. She had her teeth clamped together and she was growling like a tiger about to attack. I figured she wasn’t too happy with me.
I turned away from the ticket-takers and began walking along the side of the tent.
Heather followed, still growling. Her hands were balled into tight fists. “Okay. Now everyone knows we’re pitiful losers. Can we go back to your house?” she asked through clenched teeth.
“A quitter never wins,” I said.
“And what does that mean?”
“It means I have another idea,” I said. I tripped over one of the big spikes that the tent ropes were wrapped around. I stumbled and fell onto my stomach on the grass.
Heather laughed.
“You have a great sense of humor,” I said. I picked myself up. “Now, here’s my plan.…”
Heather crossed her arms in front of her. “How much do I want to hear this?” she asked.
I ignored her sarcasm. “I saw this old movie,” I told her. “These kids wanted to see the circus. So they sneaked in through the back of the show tent.”
Heather growled at me again.
“Did you have your rabies shot?” I said.
That made her laugh. She shook her head, her light brown ponytail waving behind her. “You’re impossible, Ray.”
“Check it out. There’s no one at the back of the tent,” I told her. “We lift the canvas and crawl inside. No problem.”
“The only problem is with your brain,” she muttered. But she followed me around the side of the tent.
It suddenly grew very dark. All the lights were in the front. The voices of all the people faded into the distance. I could hear crickets chirping.
I turned to Heather. “See? We’re all alone back here.”
She glanced around. “It’s kind of creepy.”
I ran my hand along the tent canvas. “I don’t see any flap or anything,” I said. “But I still think we can slip under the canvas.”
I leaned over and gripped the tent bottom with both hands. The canvas was heavy and tied down tightly. This wasn’t going to be easy. But I tugged with all my strength and got it about a foot off the ground.
“Go ahead. Crawl in,” I said to Heather.
That’s when I saw the giant.
I gasped as a huge man stepped out of the shadows. He was at least seven feet tall and as wide as a truck. His face was hidden in darkness. But even in the dim light, I could see the powerful muscles on his arms, his enormous hands balled into fists.
I was still holding the tent canvas as he stomped up to Heather and me.
“Hey,” he boomed. He had a voice like thunder. “Caught you! Do you know what we do to people who try to sneak in? Do you?”
“N-no,” I stammered. “What do you do?”
“We don’t do anything!” the giant man boomed. Then he roared with laughter.
I dropped the canvas. I stepped back. Heather’s eyes were wide with fright. She bumped into me as we both backed away from the tent.
As the big man came closer, I could see the white clown makeup on his face. He had a bald head, a wide painted smile that went nearly from ear to ear. And big tufts of fluffy hair that poked up from his ears.
“Did I scare you?” he asked, his voice soft now. His dark eyes moved from Heather to me.
“A little,” I confessed.
He thumped the chest of his clown shirt with a thumb. “I’m Tiny,” he said. “That’s my name. Tiny. Have you seen the circus?”
“No,” I answered. “We wanted to, but we didn’t have any money.”
“It was all Ray’s idea,” Heather said. “I don’t want to be a snitch. But if you want to turn someone in to security or something, it was all his idea.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks a bunch, Heather.”
“I’m glad you like the circus so much,” Tiny said. “I was looking for my partner. I work with a dwarf clown named Biggie. We’re Biggie and Tiny.”
My heart stopped pounding like a drum in my chest. I started to relax. Tiny was friendly. Not menacing at all.
A warm breeze fluttered the tent. Heather swept her hair back with one hand. I could see she wasn’t worried anymore. And she had stopped growling at me.
“Once, we caught a guy sneaking in,” Tiny said. “He loved the circus so much, we put him to work.”
“Awesome,” I murmured.
Tiny scratched one ear. “Well, we told him he could clean the animal cages. He got all excited. He couldn’t believe he was actually working at the circus.”
Tiny leaned closer. “Only there was a slight problem,” he said. “We forgot to tell the guy one thing. We forgot to tell him he wasn’t supposed to clean the tiger cage with the tiger still in it.”
Heather gasped.
Tiny burst out laughing. “Hahahaha! What a mess that was. It took
four of us to clean him up.” He laughed some more.
“You’re joking — right?” Heather said.
He nodded. “Maybe.” It was hard to see his expression beneath the white clown makeup and the huge, painted grin.
“My uncle Theo is a clown, too,” I said.
Tiny turned to me. “Where does he work?”
“He works for a traveling circus,” I said. “It’s called Koko’s Klown Academy.”
“I’ve heard of it,” Tiny said. He scratched the big tuft of hair on his ear again. “It’s an all-clown circus, right?”
“I think so,” I said. “I’ve never seen it. My uncle keeps promising to let me work at his circus one summer, but —”
“Well, don’t clean the tiger cage!” Tiny said, and he bellowed with laughter again.
“Uncle Theo loves being a clown,” I said when he finally stopped.
“Yeah. Me too, kid. Being a clown is a good life. As long as you stay away from Clown Street, you’re golden.”
I blinked. “Huh? Clown Street? What’s that?”
Tiny opened his mouth to answer. But a loud shout interrupted. “Hey! There you are!”
I spun around to see my dad running toward us over the grass. He was waving one hand at us wildly.
“Uh-oh,” I muttered.
Dad came tearing up to the tent, breathing hard. He’s not much of an athlete. He sits in front of a computer all day.
He nodded to Tiny. Then he turned angrily to Heather and me. “What are you doing here? I’ve been looking for you for nearly an hour.”
“S-sorry,” I stammered.
Dad grabbed my elbow and started to lead me away. “You two are supposed to be doing homework, right?”
“It was all Ray’s idea,” Heather said, trotting to keep up with Dad and me.
“Of course it was,” Dad said. “You didn’t need to tell me that.”
I turned back. Tiny still stood at the back of the show tent. “Tiny,” I yelled. “What’s Clown Street?”
He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “You don’t want to know!”
Dad drove Heather home. He didn’t talk much in the car. He just kept shaking his head and muttering under his breath.
Mom was in the kitchen. She sat at the table, going through a pile of bills. “Where was he?” she asked Dad without looking up.