The Deflated Birthday
Duke celebrated his birthday. He turned 12 and relished the opportunity of having a whole day when attention would be focused on him.
The day began with The Little Sister singing “Happy Birthday” to him while he was eating his cold cereal at the breakfast table. Before the last “…to you” had faded, The Mother appeared by his side with a fresh doughnut from the neighborhood bakery and it had a single candle stuck in it. Duke smiled, said, “Thanks!” and devoured the doughnut in just a few bites.
He put on his jacket and headed out the door for school.
Monte joined him on his walk as he went past his house and Jimmy, Mike, and Ricky joined them a half block later. Even though it was his birthday, Duke tried to contain any excitement and pretended to be nonchalant.
“ Who got that math homework done?”
“I did. It wasn’t hard.”
“I couldn’t do it so I’m gonna ask Mr. Beach about it before class starts.”
“Mike, we’ve been in school for three months. His name is Mr. Veach. Veach.”
“I know. I was just funnin’ ya.”
“Did anyone watch ‘Dragnet’ on TV last night?”
Duke couldn’t believe it. No one was saying a thing about today being his birthday. Maybe when he got to school, someone would say something.
Homer and Larry and Jerry were waiting by the door when Duke and the guys walked up.
“Has the warning bell rung yet?”
“No, do you want to wait or go on up?”
“Let’s go on up. Mike has a math question for Mr. Beach.”
“I know it’s Mr. Veach. I said I was just funnin’ ya.”
The boys started their school day and Duke spent the rest of the day waiting for someone — anyone — to acknowledge his birthday. During every lesson, at every recess, during lunch: not a word about Duke’s birthday.
He had one opportunity at the last recess. They were playing “Red Rover” — .the popular recess game where two teams of kids stood in two lines facing each other on opposite sides of the playground, having joined hands with their teammates. The captain of one team summoned a player from the other team to run across the playground at top speed and attempt to break through the joined hands in the opponent’s line.
Homer was on Duke’s team and had shouted, “Red Rover, Red Rover, send Tank McShurley over!” Tank was named “Tank” because he was a HUGE kid from the other sixth grade classroom, and when he lumbered across the playground, he headed straight for Duke’s position, thinking that was where the hand grip was weakest. If Tank didn’t break through, he would have to join Homer and Duke’s team. If he DID break through the line, he could return to his own team, taking one of those two weak players back with him. Tank didn’t break through. Instead, he collided with Duke and fell to the ground on top of him. As Tank stood up, he looked down at Duke and said, “What do you think this is? Your birthday?”
It was almost as though no one had heard him because when they returned to the classroom after recess, it was back to the normal school routine. As the clock edged to dismissal, Duke regretted having a birthday during the school year. His birthday may as well have been during summer vacation. In fact, that would have been more fun.
Just before the bell for dismissal, Mr. Veach reviewed the next day’s assignments and made some announcements. The last announcement was: “And today is Duke’s birthday. He is 12.”
His classmates started singing “Happy Birthday” to him and just as they sang “…dear Duke…” the dismissal bell rang. They got up to leave and finished the birthday song for Duke as they walked through the door and into the hall.
Duke’s cheeks were still red as he joined his buddies for the walk home.
According to Monte, “We knew it was your birthday all along. We even passed the word at school but told everybody not to say anything until the end of the day.”
Mike said, “We were just funnin’ with ya!”
“You’re 12 already? I won’t be twelve until next spring,”
“Me either! Geez, Duke you’re the old man of our class.”
Homer pointed out that he was twelve in September. As they neared their neighborhood, and began to split up to go to their separate homes, Monte said “Happy birthday, Duke” and Homer added “Yeah, happy birthday, old man!”
That night, at dinner, Duke told the family about his birthday experience at school. He showed them the scrapes on his elbows from the tackle by Tank. The Mother brought out a homemade chocolate cake with twelve lit candles. They all sang “Happy Birthday” to him and he blew out the candles. The Little Sister pointed out, “You didn’t make a wish!” and Duke just presented an exaggerated, fake smile in her direction.
The Little Sister gave him a homemade birthday card. The Mother gave him two wrapped presents. Duke unwrapped them slowly and carefully, to build suspense for the onlookers. The first gift contained a dress shirt.
“A shirt? That’s nice.”
“You needed a nice dress shirt,” The Mother added, “so there you go.”
Duke opened the second present. It was a plastic model kit of a stagecoach.
The Mother continued, “We knew how much you liked to build models and how much you liked western movies and western TV shows, so we — your father and I — thought this would be the perfect gift.”
She sensed disappointment in Duke’s reaction. “You can glue it together and paint it up and you will have a unique model for your collection. I’ll bet no one else around here has anything like that.”
“Georgie, maybe” Duke suggested.
The Mother turned and retrieved something from the sewing machine cabinet. She placed a third gift — unwrapped — on the table at Duke’s place.
“It’s deodorant,” she said. “You’re coming of an age when you’re starting to stink.”