the first person joe encountered on the road was not walking towards him, towards the country, but ahead of him, towards the city.
the person in question was a heavy set individual who was walking with a ponderous gait and it would only be a matter of minutes before joe caught up with him or her.
good, thought joe, perhaps this person will prove to be friendly and will give me some useful information or even advice about what to expect in the city.
joe came up behind the person, who was wearing a heavy gray cloak, even though the weather was on the warm side, and a tall black hat. like a magician? joe wondered, as he recalled seeing a few television shows about magicians although they had not much interested him, not as much as shows about bigfoot or serial killers or homicide detectives.
joe drew abreast of the person, and wished it a cheerful good morning.
the person turned its face - a long sad oval face - to joe and the first thing joe noticed was a huge purple clown nose in the middle of it.
a clown! joe knew that clowns existed but had never given them much thought, let alone considered becoming one himself.
in fact he did not have a very clear idea of what clowns did, if anything.
“good morning to yourself,” the clown-faced personage returned joe’s greeting, in a deep rumbling voice, giving joe confidence that the person was, as he had suspected, male.
“a fine morning,” joe offered in an attempt to continue the conversation.
“some might think so,” replied the clown, “some might think so.” joe noticed for the first time that the clown was carrying a heavy stick in his hand, which joe had not noticed as it had been concealed by the clown’s bulk, and by his cape.
the clown shook his stick at joe, though not in a threatening manner. “i percieve, young man, that you have the cheerful countenance of one whose experience of the world is none the most comprehensive.”
“that is true, sir. in fact i have just been released into the world this morning.”
“i see. you have a confident enough air. would it be presumptuous to ask what your plans, if any, are, as you proceed along the high road into the great metropolis?”
“well,sir “ joe replied, encouraged by the clown’s show of polite interest ,” i have not given the matter as much thought as perhaps i might . i have thought of perhaps becoming a billionaire, or a movie director, or a lone wolf dispensing solitary justice, as i know that these are some of the occupations available to humans in the modern world. “
the clown laughed. “that is all very well, young man, but these occupations, as you cal them, do not account for a very large proportion of the world’s daily endeavors. i do not have a head for figures, but i know that persons engaging in them amount to very much less than 1 percent of the world’s population.”
“i am not very good at mathematics myself,” joe admitted. “but perhaps i could settle for being a homicide detective, and matching wits with serial killers.”
“ha ha! so you would rather be a homicide detective and not a serial killer yourself, eh?”
“oh no, sir! as much as i might enjoy matching wits with homicide detectives, i have an abhorrence of violence, and would not wish to inflict any harm on my fellow creatures.”
“worthy sentiments. we can only hope that you hold to them as you penetrate more deeply into this sadly compromised and unforgiving world.”
“what about yourself, sir? are you a clown? or perhaps a magician? as you seem to exhibit some of the outward signs of both those time honored identities.”
“i am both a clown and a magician, my young friend, as well as a poet, a dreamer, a visionary, and the architect of a better future for all living things.”
joe’s eyes widened. “i see,” he said.
“you do not seem impressed.”
“oh but sir, i am, i am indeed!” joe protested.
“my name is magnus, by the way,” the clown-poet-visionary continued, fixing joe with his dark gaze, but not breaking stride as he did so.
“my name is joe, and i am pleased to meet you.”
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