Visit from Ghost of Birthday Present
Oh,
yes, I knew he would be coming. Joviality incarnate. Yippee, time
for another birthday.
Still,
I drew the shades and sat near a single lamp, hoping he might decide
that nobody was home. I just was not in the mood this year. Gone
were my youthful years of eagerly awaiting the next milestone age
when some new opportunity would open for me. Long gone.
There
was the knock at the door. Did he knock last year? Maybe he has
developed some manners. More typically he would materialize behind
my back in his prankish practice of “surprising” me. Clap me on
the back with a boisterous greeting, designed to lift me out of my
skin. Maybe I could ignore him and he would pass on.
Another
knock, no louder or more insistent than the first. And, in a while,
a third. Every minute or so, another. No, he was neither coming in
or going away. Strange. My curiosity overcame my antipathy for his
visit. I answered the door.
What
an unhappy clown he was! Same shiny suit, polka tie, and fizzy wig
as he wore every year, but his face bore no mirth.
“Oh,
goodness, what has happened to you?” I exclaimed. “Please, come
in.”
He
forced a smile to his lips, hardly more than a grimace. “Happy
Birthday, sport,” he breathed in a whisper. He stepped over
threshold and I guided him to an easy chair.
“Can
I get you something?” I asked.
“A
piece of cake would be nice,” he murmured. Looking at my
expression, he answered himself. “No, I did not suppose you would
have a cake. Who does anymore? Mothers looking for healthy
alternatives, everyone counting calories, or denying their aging.”
“Well,
I really did not see a need to celebrate. I mean I do not feel any
older than yesterday,” I protested. “Never feel any
younger,” I grumbled quietly.
“I
should have applied for the Tooth Fairy job when I had the chance.”
He slumped in the chair. “Kids, nothing but kids. By the time
they lose interest, they stop losing teeth.”
“Well,
you did not need to visit me today,” I said defensively. “I told
you before I was done with all this frivolity. Spend your time at
children's parties and let us have some peace and quiet.”
“It
doesn't work like that. I was assigned to your cohort the year you
were born. You are my clientele until the last of you move on.
Fewer people every year and even fewer parties. Well, Happy
Birthday, old friend. I'll get out of your way so you can do whatever
more important things you have scheduled for today.” He rose from
the chair, no less disheartened than when he arrived.
“Wait
a minute. Since you did come, we could do something,” I said. “We
don't need to light all those candles, but I could perhaps make a
wish and blow out one.”
“And
would you wish for me to come again next year,” his grin at his
mouth and the twinkle in his eyes began to grow,
“Well,
I guess it does beat you having no reason to appear again.” I
smiled as I went to find a candle. “I have some cookies and milk
if you can stay.”
“Oh,
Happy Birthday, and many more to come!” he boomed in his familiar
style. “Yes, many, many more!”
