Killer Clown of King's County by Betsy Haynes

Author:Betsy Haynes [Haynes, Betsy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Juvenile Fiction, Juvenile Horror, Clown
ISBN: 9780061064739
Google: uk8iGwAACAAJ
Amazon: 0061064734
Publisher: HarperTorch
Published: 1998-01-07T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“Rise and shine, Zeke!” a perky voice was yelling. “Time to get up!”

Zeke blinked. He was totally disoriented. A harsh, blurry white light was bearing down on him.

“Come on, Zeke!”

Mom, Zeke thought groggily. Gradually, his vision came into focus. He was in bed, and his mother was pulling up the shades. Morning sunlight poured into the room. He was still dressed in the clothes he had been wearing yesterday. In fact, he was still wearing his sneakers. He must have fallen asleep last night before he could change into his pajamas…

Suddenly he popped up in bed, wide awake.

That meant he had also fallen asleep before he'd had a chance to get rid of The Great Clown Handbook.

His glanced at the floor. Both his copies of the book were lying next to the bed. His pulse began to quicken.

“Zeke, I thought I told you to wash that makeup off before you got into bed,” she said. “You probably got that awful red color all over your pillow.”

“I doubt it,” Zeke mumbled. He leapt out from under the covers and fumbled for the books, then tossed them into the top hat. “You can look for yourself.”

Mrs. Simpson strolled over to the side of the bed and leaned forward to study the pillowcase. “You know, you're right,” she said after a moment. “There isn't a trace of the stuff. Everything is spotless.”

But Zeke wasn't listening anymore. He was already halfway out the bedroom door, gripping the top hat tightly. He had to get to a garbage can — preferably one far, far away.

“Where do you think you're going, young man?” his mother demanded as he stumbled down the stairs.

“I'm throwing all this stuff out, Mom,” Zeke called. He raced out the door. “Like I told you last night, I'm giving up clowning for good.”

“Zeke, get back here! It's cold out there. You need your jacket…”

Her words faded to silence as Zeke hurried down the street. He shivered once. It was cold, but the chilly morning air felt good against his face. He stole a quick peek into the top hat. All he saw was that familiar, bottomless blackness — as if the books had been swallowed right out of existence.

Zeke picked up his pace. I can't believe I ever got mixed up with this clown stuff, he thought. He saw a big green plastic garbage can on the curb at the end of his block and broke into a run. His feet pounded on the sidewalk pavement. I'm never, ever going to think or talk about clowns again—

“Zeke Simpson!” a deep, raspy voice shouted.

Zeke froze in his tracks. The blood turned to ice in his veins. That voice…

“Yes, you!” The voice was directly behind him. “Where are you going with your magic top hat so early in the morning? Are you out to practice a little clowning?”

No. It couldn't be. Not at seven-thirty in the morning. Slowly, Zeke turned to look over his shoulder.

But there he was.

Idris Zanzibar McFloot was standing not three feet away from him.

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