Free One Man Show by John J. Bonk

through the doorway, it felt as if everything were going in slow motion, as if this couldn’t actually
     be happening. But there he was, in the flesh, standing in my house with his black leather pants and his shiny black hair.
    “Everybody, this is my friend Jeremy Jason Wilder.” My stomach jolted when I heard myself say that. “Jeremy, this is everybody.”
    He’d barely taken off his jacket before he was drowning in a clump of distant relatives.
    “Okay, clear the way,” Granny said, trotting toward Jeremy. “Don’t smother the child before the birthday girl gets a hug.”
    The lights went out.
    “Oh, good Lord,” Granny said. “It’s happened.”
    “What’s happened?” I asked.
    “I’ve gone completely blind!”
    “Happy birthday to you,”
Aunt Olive warbled.
    Everyone gradually joined in the singing and switched attention from Jeremy to Mom, who paraded out of the kitchen carrying
     the cake. It had a pink 7 candle and a blue 5 candle glowing on top.
    Aunt Olive took the last
“to yooou!”
up an octave, drowning out everyone else with her wobbly soprano.
    “Give it a rest, Olive,” Granny said. “You’ll drive all the dogs out of the neighborhood.”
    Jeremy and I joined the guests gathering around the dining-room table, where Mom placed the cake. Granny hovered over it with
     her eyelids fluttering, as if she was having a hard time settling on a wish. For a split second the candlelight on her face
     made her look eighteen.
    “Don’t tell your wish, Ma,” Aunt Birdie said, “or it won’t come true.”
    “Oh, darn it anyway, Birdie! Now I forgot what I was wishing.”
    “It’s okay, Gran,” I said. “You’ll think of another one.”
    “I hate to squander the few good wishes I have left. I’m not long for this world, you know.”
    “Just blow them out already,” Aunt Birdie insisted.
    “Okay, on the count of three,” Mom said. “One…” - everyone joined in - “two…
three!”
    Granny took another minute. Finally her cheeks puffed out as if she were hitting the high note in a trumpet solo. Agust of air exploded from her that made the Happy Birthday banner flutter and the candle wax splatter. Everyone applauded,
     and the lights came back on.
    Suddenly the cake didn’t look so irresistible: sitting in the middle of it, gleaming white against the chocolate frosting,
     were Granny’s false teeth.
    “Lost your uppers!” Aunt Birdie said, and snapped a picture.
    Granny snatched her teeth and sucked them back into her mouth, like if she did it fast enough, no one would even notice that
     they had flown out.
    Fat chance. The whole room was bent over in hysterics. I thought Jeremy would split his pants from laughing so hard. It wasn’t
     exactly the scene I was hoping for, but at least he looked as if he was having a good time.
    Next thing I knew, Great-Aunt Iris asked Aunt Birdie to take a picture of her with Jeremy, and suddenly everyone wanted a
     picture taken with the big TV star. A line formed.
    “Watch the birdie!” Aunt Birdie said, snickering. She was changing positions like a fashion photographer, snapping away so
     fast, her camera was smoking. “Just strike a pose, say cheese, and keep on moving, people. Ooh, with that swanky red blouse
     he has on, these’ll make stunning Christmas cards!”
    I wouldn’t have blamed Jeremy if he’d done an about-face and headed for the hills. But he smiled through shot after shot.
     Finally I grabbed him and led him into the kitchen, where he could have a chance to catch his breath.
    “Your family sure is - friendly,” he said.
    “You mean crazy. You can say it. Sorry they ambushed you like that.”
    “No prob. I’m used to it,” he said, reaching into an open bag of potato chips on the kitchen counter.
    “You hungry?” I asked. “All the good food is in the other room, but we could eat it out on the back porch, where it’s safe.”
    He nodded, stuffing his face with chips.
    “Okay, I’ll go and get it,” I told