11 Birthdays
11 Birthdays
BY WENDY MASS
TO ZOE AND SAGE, WITH LOVE
BIRTHING CENTER
The oddest thing about Angelina D’Angelo was that
no one could remember a time when she didn’t live in Willow Falls. The oldest man in town, Bucky Whitehead, swears Angelina was an old lady when HE was a boy. But when questioned, Angelina just smiled. The person asking would get so distracted by watching the duck-shaped birthmark wiggle on her cheek, they would forget their question altogether.
Angelina, small and swift, was moving even faster than usual because today was the day she had been waiting for. She had been waiting a LONG time. Her volunteer badge securely fastened to her hip pocket, she whooshed down the hall of the Willow Falls Birthing Center and stopped short in front of the nursery window. Pressing her hands
against the cool glass, she searched the faces of the newborn babies until she found the two she was looking for.
First, the boy. Pink cheeks, a mop of black hair, clenched fists. And then, in the next bassinet, the girl. A thin coating of blond fuzz on her head, a sweet smile on her lips. Angelina knew it was just gas, but that smile told her a lot. It told her all she needed to know. She stepped back and waited. A few minutes later, the two mothers appeared from different directions, wheeled up to the window by their happily exhausted husbands. The younger of the two women had her dark curly hair pulled into a loose ponytail. The other, a blonde with a fashionable bob, had already changed out of her hospital gown into a running suit. The men nodded a polite hello to each other.
No one noticed Angelina. She had perfected the art of blending into the background.
“Which one’s yours?” the dark-haired woman asked.
“That one,” the blonde said, pointing to the little girl who was rubbing her closed eyes. “She’s our second. We have a two-year-old at home.”
The other woman smiled. “She’s precious.” Then she pointed to the boy who was now happily sucking his fist. “That one’s ours. He’s our first. But we want lots more
kids, right, honey?” She reached up for her husband’s hand and squeezed it.
“Let’s see how this one goes,” he said, laughing kindly.
A soft, strong voice from behind them asked, “What have you decided to name them?”
The four craned their necks around, surprised to see Angelina. They had thought they were alone in the hallway.
The boy’s mother replied, “Leo. After my husband’s great-grandfather, Leonard Fitzpatrick.”
The girl’s mother said, “That’s funny, we’re naming Amanda after my husband’s great-grand
mother
, Amanda Ellerby.”
The men were suddenly struck with an uneasy feeling, like they were remembering something out of a storybook someone read to them when they were children. But the old woman was talking again, so they shook off the feeling.
“Being born on the same day is very special. I believe Amanda and Leo will be the best of friends.” She said this very confidently. “You will be sure to celebrate this day together every year, no? The day of their birth?”
“Um, sure,” the mothers promised, smiling graciously at each other. Neither really meant it.
“A very wise decision,” Angelina said with a quick nod. “Blessings to all of you.”
A moment later she whooshed back down the hall and out of sight.
“That was strange,” said Amanda’s father.
“Angelina’s an odd one,” said Leo’s father. “But I’m sure you know that. She’s lived in Willow Falls forever.”
Amanda’s parents shook their heads. “We just moved to town a few months ago,” her mom said.
“My family used to live here,” Amanda’s dad added, “but my parents moved away before I was born. We really don’t know anyone.”
So Leo’s parents told them the important things, like where to find the best pizza, who offered the best prices on diapers. And when they parted, neither expected to see the other again.
They were wrong.
MAGIC CASTLE BIRTHDAY PARTY PALACE
Amanda crawled over to the inflatable white castle
that took up half the room and poked it with her finger. She giggled and poked it again. She liked it here. The air smelled like cake. She looked around for her parents. Her father was lifting her older sister, Kylie, onto a big, stuffed pony. Her mother was talking to the man behind the counter, who wore a funny floppy hat.
“What do you mean we have to share the birthday room?” Amanda’s mother said. “Please check again. I booked my daughter’s party months ago.”
The man shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Mistakes happen. The room is plenty big enough to share. You probably won’t even notice the other party.”
Amanda’s mother sighed and drummed her manicured nails on the counter. “Fine. Who’s the other party?”
The man pointed toward the door, which was swinging open with a jingle of bells. “Here they come now.”
A dark-haired woman in a long skirt strolled through the door. The little boy perched on her hip clutched a purple bear. Amanda tilted her head to see both the boy and the bear better. The boy squirmed, and his mother set him down on the floor while she went up to the counter.
Amanda’s mother’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
“You?”
“You?” the boy’s mother echoed, recognition glimmering in her eyes.
Then they laughed.
“Is that Leo?” Amanda’s mother asked, pointing at the little boy who was now crawling toward the castle.
The other woman nodded and then searched the room until she found Amanda. “And that lovely little girl must be Amanda.”
Amanda’s mother nodded. They looked back at each other and laughed again. “I guess we’re celebrating their birthday together after all!” Leo’s mother said, grinning widely.
“Sure looks like it,” said Amanda’s.
As Leo crawled toward Amanda, he dragged his bear on the ground. Amanda watched, curious. Her mother would never let her bring her teddy out in public. Too many germs. Not that Amanda knew what germs were, only that they were bad to put in your mouth.
When Leo reached the castle they stared at each other. Amanda was used to being around other babies at the park and during storytime at the library. But she usually stayed far away from them. Leo felt different somehow. She reached out and tugged on one of the boy’s curls. He laughed and handed her his bear. As a younger sister, Amanda wasn’t used to people simply handing over their toys. She took it, but cautiously. They sat there, watching each other, until their mothers came over and started fussing over them. It wasn’t until later, after cake had been eaten and songs sang, that the two of them were able to escape. They crawled toward each other, and then with some unspoken understanding, both pushed off the floor with their hands and stood. Four parents and many bemused party guests watched as the two babies took their very first steps, crashed into each other, and fell to the floor laughing.
Outside, a small old woman approached the glass window. Behind the counter, Mr. McAllister of the Magic Castle Birthday Party Palace turned and winked at her. She gave a quick, satisfied nod and whooshed away. Yes, everything was going exactly according to plan.
LEO’S 11TH BIRTHDAY
“But what if I land on my head?” I ask. “And then,
you know, all the other body parts?” An image fills my head of broken bones and scraped knees for my party tomorrow. “Maybe I shouldn’t do this.”
“You won’t fall this time,” promises Stephanie. “You need to get this move down before tryouts tomorrow. C’mon, I’m your best friend. I wouldn’t let you fall.”
“If you were really my best friend,” I say with a pout, “you wouldn’t make me try out at all.” I’m stalling and she knows it. What I really want to say is,
If you’re my best friend you’d tell me to try out for the marching band instead.
But we both know that would never happen. Besides the fact that marching band is considered uncool,
I’ve never played my drums anywhere other than my own basement.
“C’mon, Amanda. I keep telling you. If we want to hang out with Mena and Heather and Jess, we need to be on the team. And to be on the team you need to be able to do a back handspring.
Without
falling.”
I stare across my backyard, willing my mom to come out and tell us it’s getting late and Stephanie has to go home. But she’s not back from work yet. I can’t count on Dad, either. He’s inside cleaning up from our usual mom-working-late dinner — macaroni and cheese with salami melted on top. Even if he
was
out here, he’d see my frantic look and just smile and wave. Dad’s a good guy. He just doesn’t pick up on a lot of things. Kylie is my only hope, which means I’m doomed. She and a preppy boy named Dustin from her science class are on the back porch trying to turn lead into gold or some other sciency thing for their final project of the year. Kylie’s twirling her long blond hair around her finger, which is her way of flirting, but Dustin doesn’t seem to notice. He’s the breed of boy whose clothes actually match, and whose hair looks like it was professionally cut in a salon. He doesn’t look like he’s
climbed a tree or built a fort in his entire life. In an alternate universe where my older sister actually paid any sort of attention to me, she might see that I’m scared and come to my rescue. Alas, this is not an alternate universe and she’s more interested in him than me.
I stall some more. “What if I don’t want to be friends with Mena and Heather and Jess?”
Stephanie shakes her head, unwilling to even answer. I sigh. Okay, she’s got me. Of course I want to be friends with them. They’re the most popular girls in the fifth grade. And if we make the team, our status in sixth grade will be secure.
Out of ideas, I point to my midsection. “I think my center of gravity is too low. It might be physically impossible for me to do a back handspring.”
Stephanie tilts her head at me. “Your what is what?”
I open my mouth to explain, but she waves it away. “Don’t make me count to three. At three I go over and tell Kylie you stole her favorite red sweater last winter and left it on the school bus.”
“Okay, okay!” With a final glance behind me to make sure the mat is in place, I take a deep breath, raise my arms
next to my head, then swing them down really fast. Bending my knees, I spring backward before I can change my mind. In a panic, I try to remember what Stephanie taught me. Lean back, tighten abs, keep arms locked, look for a place to land my hands. But time seems to accelerate faster than its normal speed and before I know it, I’m crumpled in a heap, the freshly mown grass tickling the back of my neck. Somehow I’m a good two feet away from the mat. Dazed, I stare up at the dusky sky. “How’d I do?”
