“Why, Mr. O’Dell, are you afraid of clowns?” “Afraid isn’t the word I would use,” I say, slipping an arm around her waist. “Then what word would you use?” “I’m respectful of their space. They don’t get too close to me, I don’t get too close to them, and no one ends up locked in an abandoned lion cage at the back of the carnival while a serial killer in floppy shoes sharpens his collection of polka dot-handled hunting knives.”
