Chapter Six

    In her dreams, Victor was known as "Antonio," and he would play Spanish guitar with a rose stuck between his teeth. His hair would be slicked back with enough grease to lubricate a Mack truck, and the perfectly starched white shirt would be open at the top to reveal the delicate region of his upper body which would be in desperate need for Bertha's kisses. His exceptionally tight pants would show off Victor's tight butt which would be ripe for Bertha's slapping. After all, he was a funny, yet bad, bad clown.

    Antonio, as the rechristened Victor Frankenstein, would extend an open hand to hers, and he would lead her at dusk to an intimate setting within a  temple of untold antiquity in the Mayan culture, where the flickering romantic glow of bug repelling candles would lead to a mattress covered in rose petals.

    And there, upon that spot he designated to be the epicenter of Cupid's lovemaking earthquake, he would have her. It all took place, held tightly, in her dreams. If she released her grip on such notions for even a second, they might escape. If she held them, and Victor, close to herself long enough, she could have both the funny young clown and a tour of Central American locations of grandeur which would always be within ten minutes of a McDonalds.

    But dreams such as these come at night, and often in the middle of the day when one's mind has wandered into such terrifying realms. The haze of a romantic daydream was shaken off with some clumsy effort as Bertha had accidentally slipped into it, as one often does a banana peel in old slapstick movies, and as tragically as a Federation Starship falls into some unpronounceable rip in reality as often happens on "Star Trek." The fruit based fall was hard, the exit aperture opened up, and the sting of Victor's absence was felt again.

    Bertha sat at the multi-lighted mirrored dresser and momentarily looked to the side of her jailbird brother, Bruno, who was currently serving time at the local maximum security prison for unspeakable crimes committed against the soft and woolly. The slight rustling of the tent flap and a soft cough of attention grabbing noise from Sally, the Invisible Woman, brought Bertha back to the circus grounds.

    "I hope I'm not disturbing you," Sally offered as she watched Bertha's gaze shoot across the open space and back again, looking for the source of the woman's soft voice.

    "Hello? What...who...are you?"

    "I'm Sally. The Invisible Woman?"


    "Where?"

    "Here."

    Ah, now Bertha's eyes focused upon the right spot. It was like seeing a female ghost wearing a form fitting, hot pink sports bra and equally athletic pants that reached down to a certain point, met air, and seemed to reconnect at what could only be a set of unseen feet wearing white sneakers. A hot pink baseball cap was worn upon her invisible head and the often stated long blond hair she claimed to have was in a ponytail which reached through the rear of the cap.

    "Ah, I see now. And why is Sally invisible?"

    "I'm shy," she simply stated. "Who's that?"

    Bertha guessed at the aim of Sally's question, and immediately turned again to face the picture of her brother Bruno.

    "That's my brother. He's in prison."

    "I'm so sorry. May I ask why?" The slinky, transparent form stepped closer, as her voice got a little softer. Bertha picked up a stained hanky and blew her nose into it.

    "It not important. P.E.T.A. came to house one day and found something they not understand. Not sure of all details. I go see him every so often." She paused a moment as she swept aside the memory.  "And Sally came to see Bertha why?"

    "Oh! You and Victor! You're on in ten minutes."

    "Victor? That handsome young clown?"

    "Well...he's the younger clown, but I don't know about handsome."

    "I think he handsome."

    "Well, you and he are on in...eight minutes."

    "Oh! Need to look beautiful! Please excuse me!"

    "No problem."

    Sally departed as quietly as she'd appeared, as Bertha frantically applied more lipstick than was necessary in order to mark young Victor as hers. It was the same shade of red Sarah Palin used in the Alaskan moose hunting season to mark recently downed beasts as her own. Though the circumstances were different, the effect would be the same. Hopefully, for Victor's sake, Palin's vampiric blood letting and disembowling of the carcass wouldn't be applied in the honeymoon suite Bertha was already reserving in her mind.

    Sally's hot pink sports bra bounced and swayed lightly across the circus grounds, seemingly floating in midair, and who should be approaching but young Victor. With a quick wolf whistle Victor announced his approval to all that was in the general location.

    "Yeah, you work that outfit Sally! You're looking hot today! Whooo! Mind if I come by tonight to SEE you?"

    "Okay Victor, I said it was cute the first time, but it's wearing thin now."

    "Okay," Victor replied as he deflated under Sally's displeasure at him.

    She once thought it was cute. She once thought he was cute. Now she was on the verge of filing a harassment suit. "And no more jokes about "seeing me naked." Say it again and you'll be breathing through your ears. Got it?"

    "Yes ma'am."

    "And you're on...in six minutes." Where she kept the watch, no one could tell. But that didn't keep Victor from imaging all the naughty places it could've been.

    "Six minutes? Damn! Where's Bertha?"

    The thundering of buffalo flesh was heard coming this way. Victor's voice was, to Bertha, like a dog whistle for the average bitch in heat. One could only pray she wouldn't mark him as her territory, should this analogy hold for more than a moment.

    "Me coming! Me coming!"

    After having studied Newtonian Laws of Motion by means of kiddie punching bags, Victor knew this much mass in motion wouldn't be able to stop on a dime. He stepped aside briefly and she skidded to a halt ten feet from where she originally intended.

    "Are you ready for this?"

    "Yes!"

    "Good. Now here's what you have to do..."

* * * * *

    Every so often a new performance was devised to keep the crowds coming in for more. Airborne pies just didn't bring them in liked they used to, the tap dancing bears were becoming more and more common, and the only reason people filed in for the trapeze act because the ever present force of gravity would surely latch onto some poor unsuspecting individual and pull them down to the ground eventually. In short, they were coming less and less for the show and more for the hopes of seeing a perfectly healthy body get broken into many varied pieces. Ear piercing screams of pain would be an added benefit. The state of what the population considered modern entertainment was an ever deepening cesspit of injury and death, which is precisely why the human cannonball act had been retired some years ago.   

    To capitalize on this unfortunate trend, Dr. Flappy, the Frankensteins, and others of the clown troupe gathered up the latest in violence induced hilarity that only appeared violent, yet kept the illusion of pain intact. It was a hard decision to make, as clowns were meant to cause happiness in others by means of pranking their fellow clowns, not beating them over the head with giant prop hammers.

    Victor went over today's dance in minute detail with Bertha, making sure she understood. He was quizzing her over her role as the Master of Ceremonies stepped into the center ring.

    "And now we have a special treat for you, ladies and gentlemen. Victor the clown!"

    "You got it, Bertha?"

    "I understand."

    Victor smiled, shook her hand, and ran into the tent when his name was heard throughout the audio systems. He took his position in the center of the tent, and the lightning technicians shined a spotlight down upon him. He took a bow, and waved to the crowd, while adjusting the mini-microphone he wore.

    "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Before we begin I'd like to say..."
    From another part of the tent, currently masked by the darkness, Dr. Flappy took up a microphone of his own, and bellowed over the sound system as a second spotlight shone down upon him.   

    "Hold it here! Hold it!"

    Confusion kept the crowd at bay, as they turned their attention from young Victor to the intruder making his way across the tent floor. The Master of Ceremonies chimed in with "It seems we have some trouble here folks," but remained unseen. Dr. Flappy, though, stood in his spotlight which followed his ever move, and he walked along the perimeter of the audience stands as he addressed the spectators.

    "Why are you applauding for this uncouth rogue? Do you know what he's done?"

    Sensing this was part of the show, the crowd bellowed a uniform "What?"

    Flappy kept walking the length of the stands, waving an accusing arm at young Victor. "He stole my girlfriend! Bertha, my beloved! But I...I stole her back! What do you think of that?"

    A third light began to shine down, this time landing upon a small grouping of clowns dressed up as evil henchmen, complete with long black mustaches. Together, they'd restrained Bertha. And Victor would have no part of it.

    "You fiend! Bertha loves me, don't you sweetheart!" The young clown blew a kiss at his beloved, which Bertha seemed to enjoy more than the show necessarily needed.

    "I love him! Not you Flappy! I never love you! Victor has bigger clown shoes! Save me, Victor, oh save me!" For a moment there, she almost referred to him as "Antonio." For now the beast may be chained back, but there's always a weak link that can break on a moments notice, and that moment was rapidly approaching.

    "Restrain her!" Flappy's gang of clowns pretended to tighten the restraints, causing Bertha mock pain.

    "Everything was happy in our home until you came along,  young man! I challenge you to...a Jester's Duel! He who remains standing takes the hand of the fair maiden, Bertha, in matrimony! Agreed?"

    "Agreed!" Victor replied. Unseen, happiness formed in a tear which flowed down Bertha's fleshy face. The words "I Do" were even now being recited continuously in her mind. The honeymoon would be a tour of Latin America. The bridesmaid's would wear a sickly shade of green Bertha was fond of.  Their first born, should it be a girl, would be named Angela; if it was a boy, he'd be called Victor Antonio Jr.

    Outside of Bertha's mind, there stood only Victor. She never heard the Master of Ceremonies announce, "Well, it looks like we're in for a treat folks!" Dr. Flappy called for music, and a bouncy tune from the 1950's then filled the ambient silence as Dr. Flappy began to sing.

    "Oh, hot diggity, dog ziggity boom, whatcha do to me..." Flappy shoved a pie into Victor's face,"...it's so new to me, whatcha do to me..." then came the seltzer stream down Victor's pants...

    " Hot diggity, dog ziggity boom, whatcha do to me..." Flappy then pulled a ripe banana from somewhere inside his jumpsuit, peeled it, and dropped the skin in front of Victor while diverting his attention by tapping on his right shoulder while running off to his left, "...when you're holding me tight!" Dr. Flappy turned his attention to the crowds, took a bow, and faced Victor again with a stance that dared him to do his worst.

    His eyes now upon Flappy, Victor took a running step in Flappy's direction and intentionally slipped on Flappy's discarded banana peel. Seeing her future husband take such a bad fall, Bertha forgot herself and charged through the circle of clowns pretending to hold her back, and knocked them to the ground, each one a spinning, dazed bowling pin trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

    And Victor sang, "...never dreamed anybody could kiss that-a way, bring me bliss that-a way..." as he dodged Flappy's intents on tripping him up with a comically large candy cane. Victor ultimately ran for the large rubber hammer off to the side, picked it up, and brought the hammer's head down upon Flappy's cranium.

    "...What-a a kiss that-a way..." Victor sang as he discarded the hammer and proceeded to turn away from Flappy as he finished up his chorus to give the audience a chance to cheer their antics on while Flappy would, as rehearsed, unravel a fire hose and aim it directly at Victor's clown pants.

    At least, that's what was to have happened. Dr. Flappy was pretending to walk about in a stupor behind Victor as Bertha came thundering up behind him and, with one quick motion, karate chopped him and Flappy went out like a light.

    "What a wonderful feelin to feel that-a way..."  By now, Flappy would surely have the hose aimed at him. Victor turned to face the onslaught of water and found himself staring into Bertha's smiling face. He somehow finished his verse, though it was obvious in his tone that something wasn't right.

    "Tell me where have ya been all my life!"

    "Right here!"

    Bertha then scooped Victor up into her arms and ran from the tent as the remaining clowns ran up to the unconscious form of Dr. Flappy to check his status. Briefly, he muttered a weak "Could someone just tell me what happened?" and then went back to a state of painless sleep.