All the Birthdays

by Chris Clemens

After the exhausted bunnies and deflated bouncy-castle are discarded from Janie Ratzinger’s party, it’s time for cake. A pink monstrosity piled with melting Barbies drips in the summer sunlight, topped with eight crooked candles. Make your wish, my perfect darling. Janie narrows her flat green eyes (at ME? because I scored three goals??). Then she blows out the candles very carefully, with a scary smile. The next day mom says we’re not going to Happy Kingdom with my friends this weekend, but I’m invited to Janie’s birthday - isn’t that nice? I say it was supposed to be MY birthday, but apparently not. I check the calendar. It’s blank. At Janie’s next party she totally ignores me, bullies the clown nobody asked for, criticises the gift-wrapping, and spills Coke on Olivia’s dress, making her cry. The cake is even bigger, wobblier, with goops of plastic-looking frosting. As she extinguishes the candles, Janie stares hard at sniffling Olivia. Then she whispers her wish, eyes squeezed tight like fists. I watch real close, try to figure out how she stole away my birthday, but Janie’s mother tells me not to be greedy. Thank you so much for coming, she coos, hovering by the open door with Disney gift bags full of Dollarama trinkets. We’ll see you soon.

Chris Clemens lives and teaches in Toronto, surrounded by raccoons.