Monday, July 15, 2019





—ALWAYS ON THE OUTSIDE LOOKING IN


                                                      The Gift

I thought about it for a frozen second.  Flicked the pocket knife open and ran a blade.  But it was just as dull as time.
I may have been a ghost, because no one noticed me that day either.  From a corner, I saw their mouths make laughter.  I watched boys my own age shift like scarecrows filled with the clear smoke of happiness.  I heard the husks of dead sound boomerang off walls and box me on both ears like my father did when he thought I was being dumber than usual.
Paul’s mom, my mom and dad--there’d been something.  Now they never talked, which was fine with me.
Paul’s mom waddled into the room, holding the cake like wedding flowers balanced on her swollen belly, as if she wanted the baby inside her to have a smell.
Someone counted ten candles to be sure, and when they were, Paul pounded two fork-ends on the table top.
I watched his mouth shout We Want Cake! on repeat.
I watched his friends do the same.
Paul’s mom said something to me over the trestle of broken voices, above the heads of a thousand boys like, and not like, me.  Her face resembled a mannequin made for selling precious items on the cheap.
Outside, by the street corner, everything still itched.  The sun fingered my eyes.  A bruising wind belched up stink.
The birthday sign was crooked, but the lettering was bright and cheerful looking.
          I watched the tethered balloons stagger, bump and rub, their baby-blue strands glittering like sea glass in the glare.
I snapped open the knife then and took out each balloon with a muffled pop.
Afterward, I sat on the curb staring at the shreds strewn like rubber shrapnel.  I picked up a few scraps and cupped them in my palm because they weren’t going anywhere, and neither was I.
The bow sat smashed in my back pocket, along with the matted wrapping paper.  When I pulled it out, it looked like the shattered shell of a colorful sea creature. 
I fitted the knife back inside and tried my best to make the tape and bow stick like they had before.  Uncertain, I held the gift in my palm, felt it beat like the heart of something on the move. 


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