It is unbelievable how many birthday parties the Evil Sister got, while I had none, or very few that I remember. And though I scoured the collection of old family photos for even one picture of the celebration of my coming into the world; there were none.
Is it because I had no friends that would dare to share my celebration, or perhaps it was the sinister revenge of my parents, punishing me still because of my poor behavior at my one and only party, when I was two.
Still on Redwood. And though I appear to be enjoying the same jocularity as my cousins and Evil Sister, you can see that I have neither a party hat or birthday cake. Perhaps I was invited into the picture just for show, the pretense of a happy life, enjoying extended family. At least I didn’t have to hide behind cousin Susie, as cousin Jeff is doing, or wear a knee length bib, like cousin Dave. Lil is conceding her smile, while cousin Eileen is skeptical, and cousin Christine remains wisely in the shadows.
As always, it is the Sister, playing us like her party puppets. Little doubt the only reason we are laughing is because she has commanded it by saying “It’s my party and you’ll laugh if I want you to.”
But I was determined not to be her supplicant. I have found a hand made party hat, in the shape of a crown (rightfully so), as I refused to wear the dunce cap, forced upon the others. Cousin Jeff wonders if I’ll break and force a smile in the presence of the cake, but I will not give up my sulk, even as cousin Eileen grabs at my butt. Cousin Dave can’t seem to find the camera to focus on, perhaps a result of being run over by the car.
Meanwhile, the Angel Monster, Terence, is in the other room filling his pants with milk poop and planning his revenge for not even being invited to the party.
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Wade Harold Johnson - Canadian Novelist/Poet 