dead.
* * *
There was a pregnant silence.
It was Tara who finally laughed nervously. “You’re joking!”
“No.” Jen shook her head. “I wished that she would die, and she did. Five seconds later.”
“Coincidence,” Gloria whispered, then repeated the word louder, with more certainty. “Coincidence.”
“Sure,” agreed Tara. “Yes, of course it was.”
“They said it was an aneurysm. A ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. No one could have known, and there were no symptoms.” Jen shook her head and looked down into her wine glass.
Silence again. Then Tara cleared her throat. “Why did Debbie trip you?”
“Who can say? Children do things without thinking. They have flashes of meanness, same as adults. We’d always been good friends. For that matter, why did I wish her dead? Same reason, I guess.”
“And all these years…” Tara trailed off.
Jen took up the line. “I’ve kind of blamed myself. At first, consciously. Then, as the years passed and I came to recognize how unlikely it all was, I knew on a rational level that I wasn’t to blame, but I still felt guilty. Because deep down, I still believed I’d caused it to happen. Knowing and feeling are two different things, you see.”
Gloria exhaled audibly. “Wow. What a story! No wonder. It must have been very hard, living with that. So no more parties, no more celebrations.”
“Not since I was seven. Not a single one.” Jen’s lower lip quivered almost imperceptibly, then stilled. “But you know, I’m glad you brought it up, I really am.”
Gloria arched her eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yes. I think talking about it made me realize how silly it is. And it would be a good, healing experience, to have a birthday party again… to help me put it behind me once and for all. Don’t you think?”
“Oh, absolutely!” said Tara. “Sure it would!”
“Yes,” agreed Gloria more quietly. “Yes, I agree.”
“I can plan the whole thing,” said Tara. “I’ll get the cake, send out invitations. We can make it as large or small a party as you’d like! And I’ll figure out who can bring what, and we’ll throw you a ‘Welcome back to Birthday Parties’ birthday party. Oh, it’ll be great!”
“That’s so sweet of you,” Jen said. “It really will help me put all this behind me. Of course,” she added, almost as an afterthought, “it’s hard to destroy every doubt. I think there will probably always be some small part of me that will wonder if I really had something to do with… no, but enough of that!” She sipped her wine and swallowed, enjoying the dry taste that somehow complimented the great spray of autumn colors that surged around them.
“What should I bring?” Gloria said. She didn’t look at Jen as she spoke.
Tara opened her mouth to say something, but Jen beat her to it. “You’ve already done so much, Gloria. You made this possible by talking about it, even when you knew I didn’t want you to. But it was for the best, and I thank you for that.”
She pursed her lips, thinking.
“The candles ,” she said at last, snapping her fingers. “Gloria, you just bring the candles. That’ll be plenty.”
“Yes! A cake has to have candles,” said Tara brightly.
Gloria fixed her gaze on Jen, who met it without blinking. “That… that will be fine,” she murmured.
“Great! And I know just what to wish for,” Jen said, taking another sip of wine before reaching out and patting Gloria’s cold, cold hand.
To Be
His name was Allan Eden, and he moved about in darkness absolute except for the stars.
As far as he could tell, the land before him had once supported his home. It was desolate now; charred, hard earth indistinguishable from the rest of the wasteland that extended for miles in every direction. He could see little in the blackness save the glint of mica chips and the outline of rough-hewn rock, but thought nothing of waiting the long hours until daybreak. He had plenty of time.
Allen