Dodo Eraser

Rufus Chevalier dreamed he had an absolutely fantastic idea, one with the potential to make him a wealthy man with a yacht and a butler; but when he awoke, he couldn’t manage to remember what it had been. Talk about a waste! Usually, he just dreamed that he was a passenger on an airplane under this or that unusual set of circumstances, which not only wasn’t a good idea, but probably wasn’t even an idea at all so much as a situation.

Luckily, Rufus had an appointment that afternoon with his therapist.

“Based on everything I’m hearing from you,” she told him, “I think it’s high time for you take charge of things.”

“Interesting,” said Rufus. “What type of things are we talking about here?”

Since their time was up, his therapist was unable to offer him any further insight into the matter, so on the way home he stopped at a local café to think things over for himself, which was how, in the course perusing the classifieds section in the ink-smudged copy of the previous weekend’s local newspaper that had been left behind on the table where he sat down to sip his coffee, he came upon an ad placed by a local clown troupe seeking a new creative director (the old one, it seemed, had run off to join the circus, which all things considered really wasn’t that surprising).

“A creative director,” remarked Rufus, reading it back over. “That sounds like a take charge type of position if ever there were one. This might be the universe’s way of pointing me in the right direction.”

Without further ado, he called the phone number listed in the advertisement.

“Clown troupe answering service,” answered a gentleman. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I’m calling about the creative director position I saw listed in last weekend’s – ”

“You’re hired,” broke in the gentleman.

“Wait a second,” said Rufus. “Don’t you at least want to know my name before you offer me the job?”

“We don’t have time for formalities,” said the gentleman. “The troupe is scheduled to perform at the county fringe theater festival tomorrow afternoon, and in the absence of a creative director, it seems they haven’t the first clue what to do. Just report to the following location pronto, and we can sort out the details later.”

He read out an address.

“According to my antiquated Thomas Guide, that’s a vacant lot,” said Rufus.

“Exactly,” said the gentleman. “But if everything goes well at the fringe festival tomorrow, the troupe anticipates booking enough birthday parties and Bar Mitzvahs in the coming months to rent out a proper rehearsal space, which, like the vacant lot out of which they currently operate, would presumably double as their living quarters.”

“This is all starting to sound a bit fishy.” said Rufus. “Then again, maybe that’s just the universe’s way of testing my resolve to take charge of things. Okay – I’m on my way.”

Twenty minutes later, he pulled up to the vacant lot. While the awaited his arrival, the clowns had gathered up to warm their hands over the orange flames flickering up out of a rusty burn barrel.

“What’s the plan, boss?” rubbing their palms together.

“Let’s see,” said Rufus. “I guess we could start by getting each of you outfitted with a pair of comically oversized shoes. These ragamuffin sneakers you’re all wearing don’t really fit the bill.”

“Oversized shoes?” replied the clowns. “Do you even know the first thing about clowning?”

“Not really. Even as a child, I never really was one for the circus. It must have been the smell of all that animal musk.”

“Well, take note,” said the clowns. “The era of tripping over your own feet for cheap laughs is long past. These days, clowning is serious business. In fact, a lot of today’s clowns actually work as commercial airline pilots, and considering the number of lives that are hanging in the balance every time a passenger plane takes flight, that’s probably one of the most serious professions out there.”

“Clown airplane pilots?” said Rufus. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

At just that moment, a voice came over the intercom. It said: “This is your captain speaking. We are now beginning our descent into the giant foam ball pit. In preparation for landing, please fasten your seatbelts and strap on your silly red noses.”

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Eli S. Evans has published two books of small absurdities, Obscure & Irregular and Various Stories About Specific Individuals in Particular Situations, both with Moon Rabbit Books & Ephemera. Search his name in quotes, including the middle initial, to find much more writing online. Search his name without quotes to learn about the late and better known “Eli N. Evans,” whose scholarship and fiction focused on 20th century Jewish culture in the American South.