Free Junonia by Kevin Henkes

face. Alice stared at the flames until she saw through them, and then her eyes seemed only to register the candlelight and the bursts of light from the camera flash. Nothing else in the world existed.
    â€œHappy birthday, dear Alice, happy birthday to you!”
    With one big breath, Alice blew out all ten candles. She felt like a deflated balloon, but she’d done it. And she hoped that her wish to find a real junonia would come true. And she sensed once again that she was a different person than the one she’d been yesterday.
    Gasping, she marveled at her cake; it was almost too beautiful to eat.
    â€œCan you tell what it’s supposed to be?” asked her mother.
    â€œOf course,” whispered Alice.
    â€œI can’t,” said Mallory. “What is it?”
    â€œA junonia,” said Alice.
    â€œI thought it was an alien or something,” said Mallory. “A monster with lots of spots.” She cocked her eyebrows and wagged her head from side to side. “Oh, now I see it!”
    The lights were back on. Alice’s mother was cutting the cake, Alice’s father was cutting the pie, and Kate was taking orders for ice cream. Mallory made sure that she had the blue gelato spoon at her place, and she’d gotten the orange one for Munchkitty.
    â€œWell,” said Mr. Wishmeier, “no matter what happens, you can truthfully say you got a junonia on your tenth birthday.”
    Alice smiled at him.
    â€œTen,” said Mr. Barden. “I’m so old, if you lined up all my birthday cakes they’d reach from here to the middle of the Gulf of Mexico.”
    Alice’s father turned on the coffeemaker and poured milk for Alice and Mallory. Everyone was cheerful and talkative. There wasn’t room for all of them at the table, so Alice’s father and Ted stood to the side, leaning against the kitchen counter.
    Alice swelled with happiness. She settled back contentedly in her chair. All of the pieces of this particular day had come together to make her birthday. As an attempt to prolong that feeling, Alice took small, dainty cat bites of her cake. When she dipped forward and used her pink gelato spoon to taste the ice cream, she thought of Helen Blair.
    While the adults complimented Alice’s mother’s baking, Alice was wondering how many people in the world shared her birthday. How many people were celebrating at this very moment.
    Barely audibly at first, and quickly growing louder, Mallory started humming “Happy Birthday.” Munchkitty was her chosen audience. Taking a gelato spoon in each hand, Mallory imitated a conductor—her version, with two batons.
    Ted’s cell phone rang, and Alice jumped. It almost sounded like an accompaniment to Mallory’s humming. The room went quiet.
    â€œHello?” said Ted, turning away from everyone. “Tricia?”
    â€œMama?” said Mallory. “Mama?” Her anxious intonation made the word feel terribly huge.
    â€œBe quiet, Mallory. I can’t hear,” Ted said harshly.
    â€œIs it Mama?”
    Ted nodded as he walked out of the room toward the front door.
    Mrs. Wishmeier brought her hand up to her mouth in a gesture of sincere concern. “Isn’t she in France?” she asked, directing her question vaguely at Kate. “And isn’t it the middle of the night there?”
    Mallory’s face was a blur as she shot up to follow her father. She accidentally bumped the table. The sudden movement knocked over her glass of milk, and Alice’s, too. The milk from one glass splashed across the table, the other spilled all over Mr. Barden, pooling on his pants. The glasses rolled but remained on the table.
    There was a silence, and then Mr. Barden’s voice seared it. “Oh, bloody hell!” he rasped. He fixed his eyes on his lap and clutched himself with nervous hands. “It looks like I wet my pants.” He kept moistening his lips and blinking. “I hate