The hot, sticky August air pressed down on me like a beating force. The noise of cackling, bubbling laughter and pure glee echoed in my ears as I turned my head from side to side, taking in my surroundings. My short, pudgy legs waddled over to the dessert table as I eagerly reached for a homemade cookie. After my mother handed me my prized treasure, I plopped down between the great masses of people to relish my treat. Drawing in many people, the church festival had always been a grand attraction come summer. Bands played their sweet melodies, games were set up, and old church members baked their delectable family recipes. I watched men, women, and children mingle about, enjoying the night out. Nibbling on my late afternoon treat, I stopped mid-bite as I watched- a creature make a bee-line toward me. With a pale white face and green hair sprouting from his black bowl cap, I was left completely motionless. His big, bright nose resembled that of a cherry tomato and his mix- matched ensemble could only be described as something you would find in a Goodwill sales bin. But worst of all, this being was headed right for me! Even at the tender age of two, a terrifying event iike this is not easily forgotten as time wears on.

Clowns. I shuddered just thinking about the gruesome creatures. Usually a rather fearless and inquisitive child, the slight mention of them could send shivers down my spine. Even the warm weather could not prevent the goose bumps I felt rise on my arms as the man drew closer. Sheer panic crept through my body just like a disease. I couid hear my heartbeat pounding out of control as the man plastered on a goofy smile and moved a mere ten feet away from me. Like a deer in headlights, I was glued to the ground and shocked senseless. Finally reaching me, he slowly bent down to be on my level. His high pitched voice seemed to slither over my whole being. "Would you like a balloon animal little girl?"

Forming a shriek of terror from deep within, I jumped up and bolted to a nearby hiding spot. My short legs not very effective, I sprinted as hard as my tiny stature could go. Diving under a nearby table, I caught my breath and kept screaming my tales of fear.

"Mommy, mommy! Clown's scary! Boo! Boo!" I screeched. Seeing my foe, I mustered up the best death stare I could at such a tender, innocent age. As he walked again towards me, fear roared its terrifying head and I was sent crawling under the adjoining tables. "Boo! Boo!" I kept repeating, feeling the fear start to disappear due to the increasing distance. His bright cherry red nose and lime green celery stalk hair seemed a lot less menacing from far away. Clad in my bright pink overalls, I must have been a sight to see, sprinting under tables like it was an Olympic sport. Loud bursts of laughter filled my ears as adults were shocked and stunned to see me perform my event. My mother, finaliy catching up to me, had tears in her eyes from the laughter as she tried to smother my nerves.

Seeming to last an eternity, the brief encounter turned out to be only a few short minutes. Funny how startling moments in time seem to expand to a lifetime. With a deathly white face, overly red cheeks, ridiculous clothing, and seemingly size eighteen shoes, this fellow was the bane of my childhood. Yet with my penguin-like movements, I was able to nimbly outmaneuver my opponent. One for Megan. Creepy villains from the carnival zilch. I remember my mother telling me what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. However given the choice, I think I'd choose a cookie eating, clown-free event over a cat and mouse chase any day.