Chapter 16: Birthday Declarations

“I’ll be your daughter for you, any time you want me, Tom.”

Tom burst into tears, ashamed and mortified for reliving such abomination. He ran into the fields, away from home, but he can’t run away from himself.

Tom tried. Tried to divorce himself. When it was discovered Skeet was pregnant, Tom was so remorseful, he contemplated suicide, but his responsibilities to his family wouldn’t permit taking the cowards way out. His wife suggested religious counseling. The concept of dying to the world, metaphorically destroying your old-self, was attractive. Being reborn again, clean slate, pure conscience, forgiven of all sins, appealed to a fundamental need in him. Tom wanted to completely, totally reject what he’d done. Finding God made it possible. He is eternally grateful. Now, he’s returned to gulp his own vomit, as the scriptures portray apostates.

Eventually, Tom finds himself by the water fall pool. Air felt and smelt clean here. Tom stripped, and dived into the icy cold pool. Washed himself clean. Cleared his head. Cooled off. At least, he’d rid himself of his rage. His conscience successfully resisted laundering. The stain is his burden to bear. His responsibilities to family are priority. Best he get on home and resume the everyday obligations of his life. His happiness and contentment, his peace with himself is destroyed. So be-it. Slim triggered his rage, thus his sin and guilt, and discontent. Slim now has much to answer for.

Stephanie is astounded. A surprise birthday cake, with thirteen flaming candles, and Happy Birthday Stephanie scripted on top. For her! How did they know? She’d been feeling glum for several days, pondering how she might celebrate her pending birthday by herself alone. She’d resigned herself to the Franklin family remaining unaware of her birthday arriving and passing. She couldn’t blurt it out. To announce without some naturally occurring cue, “My birthday is an approaching date” was childish behavior too immature, uncouth and self-serving, for her to contemplate.

“How did you find out it’s my birthday?”

“Skeet asked me when it was, and I told her. Shouldn’t I have? Are you upset I did?” Alma isn’t really worried.

“It’s wonderful!”

All are joyous in celebration with her. She feels like family.

“We have presents for you, too!” Morgan enjoys her joy at hearing there are presents. “This is from me. It’s just a friendship ring. Nothing special. I made it out of an old quarter Skeet collected. It’s real silver though.”

“I don’t know what to say, Morgan. It’s so unexpected. I’m not sure I should accept such a ... valuable gift, from a strange boy.”

“Well, if you don’t want it?”

Skeet hurriedly averted an imminent social disaster.

“Morgan certainly is a strange boy. Don’t you think so too, Dad?” Skeet teased.

Mrs. Franklin looks at Morgan with love and sympathy.

Phil and Stevie start laughing, punching, and wrestling with each other.

“You’re even stranger, Stevie” Phil laughs.

“No, I like it. I want to keep it, if I know what it means.” Stephanie is sorry Morgan’s feelings are hurt.

“Explain what you mean giving Stephanie a ring, Morgan. A ring is a rather significant gift. What does it signify?”

Tom instructs Morgan in being careful with ring tokens.

“I mean ... I want to be friends. I mean ... we’re friendly with each other already, see each other daily. I mean ... I’d like to see you alone sometimes. Just the two of us. Just friends.”

“Stephanie has a boyfriend. Phil’s jealous!” Stevie teases.

“I would like that, Morgan. When I said you were strange, I meant, strange and wonderful.”

Hoot, hoot, hoot!

“I think Stephanie should blow out the candles and cut the cake.”

“Stevie cut the mustard.”

“I DID NOT!”

“Settle down boys. Have some birthday cake.”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Everyone! Hey, what’s this?”

“You’re wearing too many clothes Daddy. It’s a birthday party. You’re supposed to wear your birthday suit! Get naked like the rest of us.”

“Sorry, Grandma. That beautiful cake you baked and decorated is eclipsed by all this sumptuous cheesecake.”

“What do we do first? Open presents?”

“Sing happy birthday to us?”

“EAT?”

“BE NAUGHTY!”

“Kiss the brides?”

“Doesn’t that happen after the wedding?”

“Special kisses? Daddy taught us special kisses last night.”

“While we were being naughty.”

“No special kisses today. Not in public anyway.”

“This isn’t public, it’s just family.”

The mafia arrives out front, in style. A fabulously polished and gleaming big tail finned limo. I thought tail fins are out of style, but this beautiful classic car will always be a desirable possession.

“It’s Aunt Linda and Uncle Warren!” My twins shriek in perfect unison. Literally jumping for joy.

A well dressed prosperous and powerful looking man, is accompanied by Sammy’s prototype, gorgeously gowned. The original model, or one of the first double struck proofs, original impressions, of Sammy’s antecedent, is outside our front door on the verandahed porch. Four identical looking burly young toughs, wearing identical expensive suits, are offloading a profusion of flowers overfilling and spilling over, from the limousine’s opened cavernous trunk.

I dress in sixty seconds flat. Cutoffs and a teeshirt are fast off and fast on. Getting zipped was the hardest part, because I’m hard.

“Come in, come in.” I invite, putting out my hand in welcome.

Uncle Warren greets my naked daughters with hugs and kisses, ignores me. Linda takes my hand, and thanks me for the welcome. The perfume she wears smells expensive.

“Don’t you look yummy!” Warren pats my daughters asses and moves on to greet naked Sammy and Grandma with similar enthusiasm. Not to be out done, I remark to Linda.