Happy Birthday to Me

by Brian Rowe

  As I started walking down the thin center aisle, I could feel with each passing second that I was supposed to be here.

  I took a seat on a bench and sat upright. I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly and thoughtfully. I had never meditated a day in my life but I wished I’d practiced the discipline now. I tried to extinguish all thoughts from my brain, even though non-stop thinking was all I knew how to do.

  I opened my eyes and surveyed the walls and ceiling. Meticulously constructed paintings hung from the walls, and multi-colored stain-glass windows shined at the far end of the church.

  The front door started closing, and I turned around to see the old lady walking out. The place was vacant and dead silent. I was alone.

  I closed my eyes again and brought my head down to the back of the bench in front of me. I clasped my hands together and sat quietly for a moment. I tried to block out all the pain. It was difficult, but after a while I started to relax.

  “Hi God. My name’s Cameron Martin. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  As soon as I started talking, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. But I managed to keep a hold on my emotions.

  For now, anyway.

  “I’m not gonna lie. I’m not religious. I never have been. My parents have never even taken me inside of a church. It’s not that I don’t believe in you. I just have never taken the time to think much about you. But I’ve wanted to step inside these walls many times before, as I’m sure you know, and today, God, I need to talk to you more than ever.”

  I bit down on my bottom lip, surprisingly enjoying the silence around me.

  “God, I know you’re up there watching over me, my friends, and my family. I don’t know if you have something to do with what’s happened to me. If you’re punishing me for things that I’ve done, and the person I’ve become, then I am sorry. If you have nothing to do with this incredible thing that’s happened to me, then I ask you to give me a sign for what you want me to do. My time is running out. I’m seventy years old, and I feel like I have just a few more days before something really terrible is going to happen to me.”

  I opened my eyes and looked out on the dozens of benches in front of me.

  “I have love to give, God. I have so much love to give. I don’t want to die. I want to see my little sister grow up. I want to spend more time with my mom and dad. And I want to do something interesting with my life. I promise you, with all my heart, that I have seen the error of my ways and that I want to change who I am. God, I beg of you. Please. Please give me a second chance.”

  I stopped talking.

  And I tried to listen.

  ---

  I arrived home around 6:15. I hadn’t eaten much of anything all day. But I wasn’t hungry. I would’ve been famished by this time three months ago. But tonight, I had too much on my mind to think about food.

  I stepped out of my car and looked across the driveway to see my dad’s car in the driveway.

  Home before seven? On a weekday?

  I shook my head with confusion and made my way to the garage side door. The fifteen steps up to the mud room used to be something I never thought twice about. But the walk up those stairs tonight felt like a challenge akin to climbing Mount Everest. I felt no longer like an old man. I felt obese, like I had been stuffing my belly with burgers and pies every hour of every day for the last two months.

  I made my way inside the house and took a Kleenex out of my pocket to pat down my sweaty forehead. I walked through the mud room and past the guest bedroom to see my parents sitting together at the kitchen table.

  “Cam,” my mom said, “there you are.”

  “Hey,” I said. “Dad? You’re home early.”

  He turned around and placed his hands in his lap, like he was a young child practicing his table manners. I could tell he was anxious about something. He just nodded.

  “Today’s surgery got done early,” he said. “I wanted to come home to see you.”

  “What for?”

  He tried to smile. “To congratulate you.”

  “Congratulate me? On what?”

  He stood up and made his way over to the large kitchen island. My mom walked up to the island, too, and put her arms around my father.

  “This came for you, today,” my dad said.

  He handed me a large, yellow envelope, addressed to me.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it and find out,” my mom said.

  At first I thought inside the envelope would be an early birthday present. Then, as my eyes started making their way toward the sender addressee, I thought that inside the envelope was going to be a gold certificate promising me free candy for life.

  And then, as I read the two words at the top of the envelope, the most magical thought of all entered my head: Maybe inside will be a document telling me that everything since late March has been nothing but a vivid nightmare, and that all I need to do to wake up from it is to count to ten.

  One… two… three…

  I read the addressee’s name and released the longest exhale of my life.

  “What’s going on?” a young voice asked.

  I looked to my left to see Kimber making her way into the room, wearing an adorable white dress with a bow in her hair.

  “Your brother got something special in the mail today,” my mom said.

  “Oh, really? What is it?”

  “You’ll see.”

  My mom moved her smile back to me. She seemed legitimately excited for what was to be found in that envelope. My dad’s expression, while joyful on the surface, was much more obvious to be one of deep, resentful sadness. My sister just seemed oblivious to what was going on.

  “Here goes,” I said.

  I turned the heavy envelope over and opened the top flap. I pulled the heavily stapled packet out and set it down next to the kitchen burners. I figured if there wasn’t good news on the first page, I could always just light the packet on fire.

  I might want to burn everything no matter what it says.

  I brought the one-page letter on top of the packet up to my eyes. My family stared at me, waiting to hear me read.

  “Dear Mr. Cameron Martin,” I read, “we would like to formally congratulate you on your admission to Yale College, School of Architecture…” The emotion took hold of me right away, but I did my best to keep going. “It gives me great pleasure to send you this letter. You have every reason to feel proud of the work and aspirations that led you to this moment. We look forward to seeing what the future has… has in store…”

  I couldn’t read another word. I realized the simple truth.

  I had gotten into Yale.

  But I’m never going to see it.

  I held onto the letter with all my might as I fell to the hardwood floor, my tear ducts opening with the intensity of a collapsing dam.

  “Oh, honey,” my mom said.

  My mom jumped down to the floor and swung her arms around the sides of my emaciated stomach. She started rocking me back and forth, kissing my left cheek, holding me close, as I continued to weep on her left shoulder.

  Kimber just stood there, clearly not sure what to do, before sitting on the right side of my mom.

  “It’s going to be OK, Cameron,” my mom said. “It’s going to be OK.”

  My dad got down on his knees and patted me on my back.

  “We are so proud of you, Son,” he said, putting his palm out for me to grasp onto. “So very proud.”

  I placed my right hand on my dad’s, my other hand still clasping the acceptance letter to Yale against my tear-stained t-shirt.

  26. Seventy-Four

  Let’s just say it was tough to stay focused in class this week.

  The school year was nearing its end, which meant one impossible test after another. With each passing day, the other students stared at me more and more as if I were a bored grandfather spending his remaining days rediscovering the pleasures of physics and trigonometry.

  It was late Wednesday
afternoon. I threw my heavy backpack over my shoulders, exited English class, and started making my way to one of the school’s many exit doors. As I reached the end of the hallway, however, I couldn’t help but stop and marvel at the bizarre sight in front of me. Papers, maybe twenty in all, were blowing into the hallway from a classroom on the right.

  I took a few steps sideways to see inside the freshman biology room. It was pretty much empty, aside from a huge stack of papers on the desk nearest the entryway. I watched in confusion as one paper after another from the top of the stack blew toward me, each one landing inches in front of my feet.

  “Cameron.”

  My heart leapt into my throat as I jumped back, barely managing not to scream. I turned to my left to see the redhead in the back left corner of the classroom, standing upright and staring at me. “Liesel? What are you doing in here?”

  She started walking toward me. “I’m really sorry I’ve been ignoring you these last few days.”

  “Ignoring me?” I asked, bewildered. “I thought I was the one ignoring you.”

  “I needed some space so that I could figure it out on my own. But now, I think I know what we have to do.”

  Here she goes again. “What are you talking about?”

  “I think the only way to change you back to your old self is to go to Uncle Tony’s. We need to repeat what happened that night. I need you to sit at that table again, in the same chair, and I need to present you that same piece of chocolate—”

  “Just stop.”

  She halted in the middle of her step, only a few yards away from me. She kept her mouth open, like she wanted to continue on with her rambling.

  “Just… please… stop talking,” I said. “I told you already. Enough with your games. I was really starting to like you, Liesel. Why are you doing this to me?”

  I tried to exit the room, but she sped up to me faster than what seemed humanly possible. She slammed the door in front of me. She clearly wasn’t going to let me leave.

  “You like me, Cameron?” she asked, barricading the exit with her surprisingly intimidating five foot nine physique.

  “Liesel, please let me out.”

  She smiled. “I like you, too. Which is why I want to help you. I’m going to prove to you that I can help you.”

  “Oh yeah?” I asked, pursing my lips, tugging at my backpack. “And how are you gonna do that?”

  “Just let me concentrate. I can do more than spells, you see. I can move things.”

  I just stared at her, waiting for the punchline.

  “I can move things with my mind.”

  You must be joking. I tried to push past her arm and open the door. But it seemed to be sealed shut. “Will you please let me out? I’m serious.”

  I felt a piece of paper hit the side of my right leg. I looked down as the sheet came to rest on the hardwood floor.

  I laughed, looked at the stack of papers, and then turned my attention back to Liesel. “Did you just move that?”

  She nodded. “Mmm hmm.”

  “Am I supposed to believe you moved all those papers into the hallway, too?”

  “Yes. I did it so you’d come in here.”

  I was astonished how much she believed her ridiculous lies. “Oh, really? It wasn’t just… I don’t know… the wind?”

  “Do you see a window open in here, Cameron?”

  I looked around. She was right. Every window was sealed shut in the biology room. In fact it was pretty stuffy inside.

  I leaned back against the biology chalkboard and decided I would partake in this nonsense. I mean, it wasn’t like I had any other leads on how to improve my bizarre condition.

  It might as well be a spell that did this to me.

  “OK, fine,” I said, crossing my arms, trying not to laugh. “I’ll give you thirty seconds to prove it to me. Move something in this room with your mind and I’ll do anything you want.”

  “It’s not that simple,” she said. “I haven’t developed the discipline—”

  “Here.” I put a pencil on the desk. “Move that.”

  “OK,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll give it a try.”

  She bit down on her lower lip and stared at the pencil.

  If it weren’t for the weird circumstance of our meeting today, I would’ve paid more attention to how lovely Liesel looked. She wore a yellow t-shirt with a tight pair of black jeans, and her dark shade of lipstick made her look a bit edgier than usual.

  “Time’s a ticking,” I said, a cunning smile on my face, so sure of myself that her little charade was completely bogus.

  “Just another minute,” she said. “I can do it. I’ve never had someone watch me before, though, so I’m having trouble concentrating.”

  “Fine. I’ll turn around.” I did as I said. “Just tell me when.”

  I waited for what felt like an eternity.

  “OK,” she said.

  “Now?”

  “Now.”

  I turned around just in time to see the pencil drop to the floor.

  I shook my head with frustration. “Nope. I’m not falling for that trick. You just tossed it on the floor when I wasn’t looking.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m trying, OK? Don’t you understand…” Liesel turned away from me. I watched with astonishment as she tried to fight back tears. “I had so much rage that night, so much hatred toward you, Cameron. I just… I’d always had such a big crush on you, and it was getting hard to have you never acknowledge me, always look at me like you were seeing me for the first time. And then the condescending way you treated me that night. I don’t know, I just… snapped. I found a place inside myself that I never want to see again, a place of complete madness and despair. And when I was at my darkest hour, when I couldn’t take it any longer, I placed that awful spell on you. I never thought it was going to work, I really didn’t. But voila.”

  I walked up to her and placed my right hand on her chin, tilting her head back so I could look in her eyes.

  “Why are you making this up?” I asked.

  “I’m not. I swear.”

  She looked so helpless, so vulnerable.

  I sighed and continued to stare into her warm, inviting eyes. “I’m starting to believe that you believe that you did this to me. And I’m starting to feel really sorry for you. Instead of blaming yourself for something you have nothing to do with, why can’t you just be a person I care about, who cares about me in return?”

  “I care about you,” she said, bringing her face closer to mind. “You’re the one person I’ve always cared about, Cameron.”

  She started stroking my left chin with her fingers, and I closed my eyes for a short moment. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No.” I opened my eyes. “But you need to. I’m old, Liesel. I’m… well… ugly.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I was always attracted to you, Cameron. But deep down, I doubted you were capable of ever being as beautiful on the inside as you were on the outside.” She brushed her index finger against my lips. “It’s taken a long time. But now… I think I can finally see it.”

  Liesel brought her right hand to my cheek, and I did the same for her. For a moment, time stood still, and I stopped breathing. This lovely girl, for whatever reason, wasn’t charging out of the room in terror at my aging face. She was studying it, understanding it, loving it.

  I leaned in, letting the outside world fade away.

  Please don’t run the other way. Please don’t leave me.

  I kissed her on the lips.

  She seemed stunned at first, but then, without warning, she grabbed both of my cheeks, pulled me closer, and continued kissing me on the mouth with the strength of ten women. The kissing went on and on, and the seventy-plus-year-old on the outside started feeling very much like the seventeen-year-old on the inside.

  Finally, I pulled away. And only one word stood at the tip of my tongue. “Whoa.”

  S
he still had her eyes closed. She settled back against the door, a smile slowly forming on her glowing face.

  That’s when I felt the oddest sensation. Something is happening.

  I noticed my backpack, which before had been weighed down with two or three textbooks, was now not feeling heavy at all. I tried to move, but I felt stuck.

  “What the hell?”

  I removed my arms from the straps and took a step back.

  What I saw was something I couldn’t explain.

  It’s a miracle.

  First, I saw my backpack, packed with books, as heavy as can be, levitating ten feet up in the air.

  Second, I saw that pencil, stuck to the floor only a minute ago, levitating even higher.

  And third, as I started scanning the room, I blinked more than a dozen times, just to make sure I was seeing things correctly and that my old age hadn’t corrupted my eyesight to the point of absurdity.

  It was true. It had to be. Everything in the room was levitating.

  “Oh… my…”

  “Ribbit.”

  In the corner of my eye I watched with awe as a large frog started performing somersaults in mid-air as it floated across the room straight for my face.

  My mouth opened so wide I could feel warm drool rolling down my lips. “Liesel…”

  I watched as the frog floated so close to me its lips started brushing against mine.

  Is this a nightmare or a fairy tale?

  “Yes?” she asked, breathing heavily, her eyes just now starting to open following our incredible kiss.

  I brushed my right cheek against the frog’s lips as I turned to look Liesel in the eye. “I think I’m starting to believe you.”

  ---

  We tried to recreate the night, albeit with only the two of us, no Charisma, Ryan, or the rest of my teammates in sight. I sat alone at the same table I had previously lounged in, drunk and obnoxious, just weeks ago. Loud, cranky patrons of all ages sat around me, all clearly assuming I was just some old widower counting the days to his death.