"It's your birthday you have to have cake. How will you make a wish?" Mom asked.
I have to admit the cake thing totally slipped my mind. "Well I guess I'll have to stick a candle in my ice cream. Besides I don't know how to make a cake."7pm. Friday night, August 17th, Benny showed up first and Mom was of course already there. By 7:15 the table was set and I paced around waiting for Dad.
"He'll be here," Mom assured me. "I asked him to stop at the store for me, he must have got hung up.""I hope you're right," I mumbled. Even though Dad had been doing well all summer, it didn't take much for me to worry that he'd slip up by sipping up. At 7:25, I went to my room to fetch the yellow mask. As I dug into the leather pouch I got impatient because sticking my hand inside the psycho ward was as risky as feeding a Venus flytrap and the yellow was at the bottom and my fingers may as well have been dangling, raw hamburger worms. I dumped them on the bed. I saw the blue and red's backs with their B and V looking letters but I knew I had to get 'em all back into the pouch as fast as I could, before they had a chance to activate. I scooped them up, blue, red, green and rusty orange, all tied inside, I barely touched the white one when I heard, "I like that purple one, try that." I'd heard that before, from Dad at the fair. I wheeled around thinking he was behind me. No one was there. I went to the window to see if his car was outside. Nope. I walked back to the bed; staring at me with vacant eyes were the white, purple and yellow masks. I picked up the purple and wondered what the letter meant -- E -- must be for my name. I got the same tingly sensation that it gave me at the fair. "It's just birthday dinner what do I need this for?" I asked myself out loud.
"Eli! Your father is here." Mom shouted from the dining room.
"Come on Eli, don't leave me by myself," Benny came into my room.I grabbed the white mask to put it away and heard, "purple."
"Happy Birthday Mr. Elias James O'Shea," Dad came singing towards my door."Fine," I answered and shoved the yellow and white into the bag.
"Fine what? You invited me." Benny answered."Is this where the party is?" Dad was in my room too.
"No. We were just waiting for you." I pushed Benny and him out and shut the door and slipped the leather tie, with the purple mask over my head.
Once back in the dining room, a giant balloon of Simon Masters' creation Fritzshisenhoffer greeted me."He was calling your name, all the way from the back of the store. I was already in the checkout line so I had to go back and get him," Dad rambled, turning on his best storytelling face. "Then, when I got all the way back there, he was mad at me because I forgot him. Finally after about ten minutes of arguing, the only way I got him to come was to promise him that you'd serve him your hamburger and macaroni and cheese special. I hope you have enough because there'll be hell to pay if he doesn't get any. Anyway that's why I'm late. Sorry."
That's the funniest thing about Dad -- even when he knows there is no way in the world any one could believe him -- he keeps on jibber-jabbering these stories. And, you eventually end up believing him."Let's do presents first," Dad begged like the spokesperson for every twelve year old's party.
"Robert, Eli's dinner is getting cold enough," Mom set the adult standard and at the same time gave Dad a dig for being late."Okay, just one before dinner, like Christmas eve," he insisted and handed me an envelope.
"What, did Fritzshisenhoffer steal my present?" I found myself still annoyed with Dad when the honesty of the purple power took over my speech."Don't forget, you challenged me to be on my toes," he shot back.
We all took our seats, with me at the head of the table, Benny to my right and Mom to my left. Dad was next to Benny and Fritzshisenhoffer sat silently at the other end.
"I don't know why a card with money can't wait a half an hour," I tore at the dull gold envelope."I'll open it," Benny offered.
"A father's greatest treasure is his son," I read the front of the card. "I hope you treasure this as much as I do you, Always my love, Daddy O." A smaller envelope fell on my lap. It wasn't sealed so it practically opened itself. Inside was what looked like a single ticket -- no cash. "How thoughtful, a gift certificate." It's a wonder he didn't smack me. I pulled it out and slowly read the electronic type.Thank you for your patronage as a season ticket holder
I read it again, "Dad, is this what I think it is?"
He was literally bouncing in his chair. "That's right E. You and two guests of your choice have season tickets to every Lakers' home game this season." The only time
I'd ever seen his eyes beam with so much pride was when he told me he was dating Jeana."This is so totally awesome! Thanks Dad!" I jumped up and gave him a hug and even patted Fritzshisenhoffer on the head so he bopped up and down in his chair.
Just then, we all turned towards the ringing doorbell."You made the invite list, perhaps you should get it." Dad chimed in.
I knew Dad's interest in who got it meant he knew whom it was, but I played along and went to answer it. "Perhaps you should…" my head was directing my purply -honest sarcasm at Dad so I had the door partially open before I actually looked at the mysterious doorbell ringer. I was certain I was hallucinating. I felt the mask, swallowed, and tried not to fart fudge in the doorway…"You must be Eli," Simon peeked around the door's edge as he batted at the moths that blindly dive-bombed him and the porch light.
My mouth fell so wide open, the moths could have been coming from some dusty neglected compartment in my brain. At least that would have explained my inability to speak."Hello? Is it your birthday?" A moth drilled one of Simon's turquoise eyes.
I nodded, mouth still wide, still no sound."Okay, well can you at least let me escape these winged larvae long enough to call my driver?"
"No need to call anyone Mike, come in." Dad made the conversation a two-way."Mike?" I managed to spit out.
"Mike is my given name -- but you can call me Simon, a lot do."
"You're just in time for dinner, can I get you a water, soda, tea?" Mom joined in.
"Tea would be perfection." Simon followed my in shock, bag of bones to the dining room."No way!" Benny screamed and brought me to the moment. Mom clearly knew Simon was coming; she smiled and pulled out the empty chair on the other side of Fritzshisenhoffer.
"Let's eat," Dad started dishing out the burgers. "They're still plenty warm," he insisted on pointing out that he didn't ruin dinner.I love to put my mac and cheese right on the burger -- that way it's like a deluxe cheeseburger. Mom still insisted on being the only adult at the table and didn't copy my invention, but Dad and Benny were more than happy to. I love the way the orange cheese oozes through the noodles and mixes with the grease of the meat. Simon's preparation copied ours but he squished it out the other end before taking a bite, as if he believed I wouldn't be watching his every move. But it did make for a really big mouthful. I was so nervous, I swallowed and broke the stuffed mouth silence first.
"Dad, Benny and me finished a draft of our Hollywood Variety article. Can you take a look at it? His mouth was still packed with gluey orange goo so he simply noddedyes. I think he has a hard time with certain foods because of his tooth veneers. "If you think it's okay, can you get a copy to Mr. Monroe and V.W.?" I added.
"Who's V.W.?" Mom asked while Benny laughed so hard he sprayed greasy cheese.
"That's what Benny and me call Vivian Weaver -- you know because she bugged us." I explained.
Simon barked a short laugh.That was all the encouragement I needed, "Maybe you could look at it too, Mr. Masters."
"Oh, man that would be the best," Benny chimed in.By then Dad's sticky situation had cleared up, "You got to admit, he has a knack," he directed to Mom, not Simon.
"I never said he wasn't talented, you know…" just like old time, O'Shea family moments. Mom and Dad were clearly in their own conversation. I didn't want to be a part of it and neither did Simon, or at least, he recognized the aroma."I would love to see your article, it'll be refreshing to read one that was arranged based on truth and not a publicist." Simon announced.
Mom and Dad punctuated their conversation with laser pointed pupils."Who wants cake to go with their reading?" Mom came back to the party.
"What do mean Mr. Masters?" Benny asked."Hey Benny, wanna help me get it?" I asked and pulled him up, he followed.
"What? Do you know what he meant about publicity? Cool cake!" Benny screamed as soon as we entered the kitchen, so I was saved from admitting that I wanted to know too, I just thought it was too early to question our guest of honor. You couldn't miss the huge cake sitting on the counter. It was a giant rectangle; at the top short end 'Happy #12 Eli' was written in purple and gold icing. Under that was a giant pair of masks made out of the same purple and gold."Wow, Dad did you get this?" I disturbed their adult conference.
"I just picked it up, it was your mom's idea."
"Thanks, Mom.""Your welcome, I told you that you needed a cake. And I always see you wearing that necklace with the faces, so it just worked out. I guess that's why your dad was so late," that small giving comment, was enough to shelve whatever they may have had simmering. "I'll take care of the candles, you just do your ice cream thing," she joined Benny and me in the kitchen.
When we took the bowls, overloaded with vanilla and chocolate caramel heaven, to the table, Benny and me found Simon instructing the Fritzshisenhoffer balloon on how to sing happy birthday. Mom and Dad joined in, like it was rehearsed. She carried the cake blazing with twelve fat red candles; I think they were leftover from some Christmas decoration. The flames were so big they lit up the whole room so Dad dimmed the lights. All attention was on me as everyone sang and Dad danced with our new blow up friend. I was feeling tremendous pressure not only to blow out all twelve candles but to also come up with a good wish, I knew somehow that I had to make this one count.…"happy birthday to you," the song wound down. I was out of time, it's very important to close your eyes and concentrate on your wish before blowing out the candles.
"Make a wish E," Mom pressured me even more."Okay, okay, just let me get the wording figured out." The wax started to turn the yellow icing orange and the purple, black.
"Aw come on Eli, the fire department is going to show up if you don't hurry," Benny threw in his two cents.I don't know if it was the heat of all the candles or the pressure I was under but I was feeling the sweat form under my bangs -- usually a good sign. "I got it," I closed my eyes so hard I'm surprised that they didn't go backwards into my brain.
"Don't hurt yourself," Dad broke my concentration."Shhh," I finished in a hurry, took a deep breath, filling my lungs with all of the air surrounding my end of the table. I let it out with the wild force of a popped balloon, that first blast missed the cake entirely. What good was a finely focused wish if all the candles don't go out in one blow? Luckily, I recovered the rest of my wind and aimed it directly at each candle. I barely made it to the last one when I felt myself pulling air from as far down as my toes. Who'd of thought toes held so much air? I did it. Wish asked for and all flames out. Everyone clapped as if they knew what I had gone through.
I was glad that Simon didn't use that prime opportunity to crack a joke at my expense, I figured he was being polite."Presents!" Dad bellowed. Proving once again, he just couldn't stand it when un-opened gifts were around, whether they were from him or not.
"First, I want to make a little speech." I announced. Dad started clanging the side of his glass with his ice cream spoon. I really had nothing planned to say. It just crossed my mind that I should tell these select few why I wanted to have my birthday dinner with them, and to do the Hollywood thing with our new guest and all. "Well, first thanks for coming. You three are my family -- and Simon, I take back all of my thoughts of mass destruction from when you didn’t show the other day." He got a rolled eye, smirk, the kind I get when someone asks Dad for an autograph. What did I have to bring that up for? I was trying to joke about it, and all I did was make him mad, I quickly went back to those who had no choice but to be with me, "I know we don't live as a normal family -- maybe there's no such thing. But thanks. I can't tell you my wish, let's just say if I get it, we will all be very happy. Dad, we can do the presents.""I'd love to see your story first, in case my driver comes before long." Simon interjected.
"Oh sure, sorry. Benny, can you run up to my room and get it?" I was back pedaling for approval, mad at myself for not being entertaining enough to keep him.
"Don't you have a car?" Benny, as usual, pedaled down a steep grade.
"Oh, I lost my driving privileges years ago." Simon shook it off. "You got yours back, fairly quick Bob, how did you arrange that?" he asked Dad.Dad saw my mind churn and burn, he puckered up, started to answer, then jumped back to the presents, "Your Grandfather O'Shea gave me an intriguing gift to pass along."
"I'm going to go with Benny, I forget where in my room the story is."I plopped onto my sulking spot at the end of my bed. "Is everyone in this town an addict?"
"I guess I missed something. Why won't Simon answer any of my questions? He's not very funny tonight." Benny reported the obvious."His license was taken away, D.U.I." I explained.
"Well I guess he could use a good laugh then. Huh?" Benny grabbed the story.By the time we returned to the dining room table, it was clear of everything except a small arrangement of presents.
I wasn't expecting much, Mom would probably give me clothes. Dad already gave me the coolest thing in the world and Benny couldn't afford anything.A small package wrapped in brown paper, like is done with schoolbooks, sat on top. Scribbled with in Gramps' writing was 'great memories make great stories'.
"I hope I'm here to see what's in that one," Simon pointed to the mysterious package.Benny handed Simon our article.
Still dying to please Simon, I ripped into the grocery bag present and found a small case and a book. Inside the case was one of those old style fountain pens with the body made out of a feather and a bottle of ink. It wasn't until I opened the book that I put it all together. It was a nice brown leather journal, and on each facing page was a quote from Ben Franklin. "Aw, cool. Benny get a look at this."Immediately, Benny heisted the journal and started reading all of Ben's quotes, so I reached for the next present, it was from Benny. I was more excited about this one than any other; after all it was from my best friend. He wrapped it in an old skateboard magazine cover. It actually looked like it could be a magazine it was just the right size and thickness, only stiffer. I tore into it with no clue what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised, and happy, that he didn't spend too much. Benny had framed his copy of our original Updated Spectator. "Thanks, dude. I'll hang it in my room."
"Well I know it's a little late but I figured it would help to keep on track with new stories so we don't get hung up like we did this week," Benny explained and then went straight back to Ben's quotes. "Uh oh Eli, this one says 'if a man could have half his wishes, he would double his troubles'. I hope whatever you wished for doesn't cause any more trouble for you."
"I'll second that," Mom handed me her present. I was curious about it when I saw that it was definitely too small to be clothes. Dad picked up the journal and started skimming the pages of quotes."What are you waiting for E, open it up," Mom prodded.
Hers was by far the most nicely wrapped; the paper was all soccer themed with a black and white curly bow to match. I opened it carefully until I got a glimpse of the box; then the paper became confetti. I soared out of my chair and almost knocked Mom out of hers, "You're the best Mom! I never thought you'd get me one of these.""I didn't want you to have to wait for Santa," she smiled with warmth in her eyes I hadn't seen in years.
"Yeah, that'd be a long wait -- like I'd have to be born again. Hey maybe that's why all those religious fanatics claim to be born again. So they can believe in Santa," all of this excitement -- helped by the purple mask and a dose of sugar -- made my thoughts go off on twisting trails.
My strange statements made Simon bark again, and Dad came out the book of quotes long enough to see what was going on, "What did you get?"
"An mp3 player!" I ran over and showed it to him."There's more," Mom got up to show me. "I took the liberty of downloading my demo tracks onto it. I've been so intensely focused on completing them I've been a little short with you lately Eli. So, I wanted you to have them."
"Music and an apology, can we all hear?" Dad poked."Let me listen first then I'll pass it around," I took ownership. "Can you read the draft please?"
Dad leaned over Simon's shoulder while I got wired. Mom's music was pretty good. I'd never heard it with the whole band mixed in professionally. "Wow, Mom. This is cool. What are you going to do with it?" I was so into the music that I didn't notice Dad and Simon laughing."That's the best part," she started. "The label in New York really likes it so far. So if everything goes well… I think I have a deal."
"Really?" Dad seemed shocked."You're not the only one in this family that's trying to get their life back on track," her answer to Dad had the bite of small dog. Not critically wounding, but enough to sting and infect. I was impressed that she still considered him to be part of the family.
Benny on the other hand, did notice the reaction to our article. "What parts made you guys laugh?"
"Oh," Dad switched his focus from Mom's remark back to the draft. "This part where it says 'Mr. Monroe's private sector cannot be trusted to hold a secret', Dad was referring to the accusation that Mr. Monroe had fathered a child with some lady in Vermont. "Did he really say that?""Oh my God," Benny jumped up. "What didn't he say?"
"Yeah, Benny actually fed him with your favorite -- fries and hot fudge, just to get him to shut up."Mom looked over Simon's other shoulder and read. "What's this? '…take it from these reporters; Mrs. Weaver could never have been a transvestite because she cannot keep anything about herself to herself. She talks about her life as if she's radio broadcasting a golf tournament. In fact, if you are anywhere within earshot of her you will instantly know everyone of her thoughts in mind roasting detail.'
Dad chuckled and Simon barked, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his flashing mobile device.
"I don't think these boys should be exposed to people accused of having affairs and sex changes," Mom was back to her Dachshund attitude with Dad.
"What's done is done," Dad kept calm. "It's like what old Ben Franklin said," he picked up the journal and looked for the page he was trying to quote. 'Hide not your talents; they for use were made. What use is a sundial in the shade?'""I couldn't agree more, my ride is here so I must scoot -- Eli, I'm afraid I wasn't prepared enough to bring something for you, but if I may, I'd love to add a quote to your book." Simon stood. He came and was going with no more comedy than a pizza delivery boy.
"Absolutely," I gave him the journal.He borrowed a pen from Mom's piano, and wrote. 'Eli, anyone can be famous, even a murderer. The key is to make a difference. Many Happy Returns, Mike Kelly a.k.a. Simon Masters.'
"Can I ask you about something before you go?" Benny butt in.Simon nodded without much enthusiasm.
Benny didn't care, "Earlier when you said publicists put stuff in the tabloids, what did you mean? Can celebrities control what the press says?"Benny is my best friend, but this was one of those times I just want to flush his head down the toilet. He was to the point, but that point made each of us very uncomfortable, for different reasons of course.
"It's just business baby, some manage theirs on the up and up, some don't. You're being asked to help those that do. He closed the book and handed it to me, I wanted to study what he wrote. Then he handed me the pen, and I realized; I was on the edge of bonkers because he wrote in my book, and signed it. I had become an autograph seeker of a celebrity, with an addiction, without even knowing it, until it was done. I blindly handed the book off,I think Dad took it, I walked Simon to the door, shook his hand and watched him walk down the stairs to the waiting sedan. It wasn't until a moth dive-bombed my mud-colored eye, that I came back to the party.
I returned to what was left of my party, wanting to cry. "Are we done here?"
Dad had put the book down and was back to debating my future with Mom. "These boys have a knack, they earned a few bucks, and that's it. I think the story is great guys. I'll get it to Bruce and V.W. in the morning. You know, you should come up with a catchy masthead.""What's that?" Benny asked.
"Like the Celebrity Spectator has those binoculars as part of their name and it's printed at the top of the cover. That's a masthead," Dad explained. "Only yours can just run over your story like a title. Remember, no reference to the Spectator," Dad had Benny in a trance.My chest was hot, "Hey how about we use the mask -- the purple one." Little did I know it may have been the heartburn that frequents old age.
"Yeah, that's cool," Benny and Dad, agreed while Mom cleared the wrappings. Acting like a Dachshund with a bunch of Labradors only gets you so far."What about the title?" I added.
"Hollywood Unmasked." Dad blurted out like he had it planned all along."That'll work," I nodded.
"Awesome!" Benny made up for my lack of enthusiasm."I'll see if the art department at the magazine can do me a favor and work something up."
"Thanks, Dad.""Yeah, thanks Mr. O'Shea."
"I'll be glad when this whole saga is over," Mom gave us all one last nip."Speaking of which, I'll pick everyone up Wednesday morning eight a.m. sharp. We'll have a driver because I'm sure Faldrane has already alerted all of his papa-rat-zi." Dad reminded us of the up-coming hearing. He knew however, that he couldn't let the party come to an end with a reminder of a stress filled day, so he grabbed my new mp3 player and danced around the living room with Fritzshisenhoffer. Benny and I retreated to the Nintendo while Mom laughed adoringly at Dad. Happy Birthday to me.
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