Birthday Blues

by Karen English

  Miss Ida gets up to answer it and, quickly, before Deja can stop herself, she is spooning half of her own turnips onto Miss Ida's plate. She mixes them around, then looks at them carefully. Miss Ida finishes up with her niece, who is calling just to say "Hey."

  "That Lilly is a real doll. Always calling to check up on her old aunt."

  Deja says nothing. Miss Ida takes her seat across from Deja, and Deja waits to see if Miss Ida is going to say anything about her turnips. She doesn't.

  In fact, that's just what she dives into first: a heaping spoonful of mushy turnips.

  Deja takes a tiny spoonful of what is left of the turnips on her plate. She holds it in her mouth. She can't bring herself to swallow. She tries to, but feels a gag rising at the same time. Quickly, she takes a sip of milk. That's what she'll do. She will get the nasty turnips down with a sip of milk after each bite. But she has to rest first. She can't just dive in. She has to wait. She takes a bite of fried chicken. That helps get the yucky turnip taste out of her mouth. When she has her courage up, she does the turnip-milk thing again. It could work. She just has to go slow.

  "I knew I forgot something," Miss Ida says suddenly. "I put up some pickled beets last fall. Delicious. I meant to dish you out some. But you know what? We can have some of those tomorrow." She smiles over at Deja as if she's waiting for her to look happy about beets.

  "Oh, yummy," Deja says. She hates beets almost as much as turnips.

  "Miss Ida?" Deja ventures after helping with the dishes. (By hand. Miss Ida doesn't have a dishwasher. She's even swept the floor, since Miss Ida says a floor should be swept every day.) "Can I watch television?"

  There are certain shows Deja watches on Monday night that she doesn't want to miss. Just because Auntie Dee had to go and leave her doesn't mean she shouldn't be able to watch her favorite shows.

  "Well, Miss Deja ... that depends."

  Deja wonders what it depends on.

  "That's kind of a temperamental television. I never know if it's going to work good or not. Sometimes I get to see my stories, and sometimes I can only hear them."

  Stories? Oh, Deja knows what stories are. Soap operas.

  Deja feels a moment of panic. No TV? What about all her favorite programs?

  "Come on," Miss Ida takes Deja by the hand. "Let's see what we can do."

  The television does come on. After a lot of snow, the reception clears to show a news program in black and white. Black and white! Miss Ida is adjusting the rabbit-ears antenna sitting on top of the TV (Auntie Dee explained what it was on their first visit to Miss Ida's), but Deja is losing interest. She's seen old TV programs in black and white, and they just don't look right.

  "What do you want to see?" Miss Ida asks.

  "My favorite show is on Channel Ten."

  Miss Ida turns to Channel Ten, but the screen goes all snowy again.

  "Looks like we don't get Ten." Miss Ida turns to another channel. "How about some music?" She sits on the couch and pats the place beside her.

  Deja is going to be stuck watching Miss Ida's boring old music program on Miss Ida's old black-and-white television. Someone is playing the accordion and two women in funny-looking clothes are singing a song that Deja doesn't even like.

  "Everyone loves music," Miss Ida says.

  Later, Miss Ida shows Deja the room where she'll sleep. It is small and drafty and has a single bed with a nightstand and a dresser. She shows her the bathroom with the tub on legs and the basin with no cabinet or counter. Everything is strange and doesn't feel right. Nothing is the way it is at home. Deja doesn't like being at Miss Ida's.

  Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. That's four whole days. It's going to be like being in jail or something.

  Auntie calls before bedtime, and Deja has to answer her questions nicely, since Miss Ida is standing right there.

  "Are you having fun?"

  "Yes, Auntie Dee."

  "Are you being good?"

  "Yes, Auntie." Auntie Dee asks to speak to Miss Ida, and Deja hands her the telephone.

  "Don't you worry about a thing," Miss Ida says. "We're having a ball over here. You can take your time getting back."

  Deja's eyes get big hearing that. She remembers Auntie Dee saying she'd be back before Deja knew it. What if she did decide to take her time? How could Deja bear it?

  6. A Party, Just Because

  "I put most of my turnips on her plate when she wasn't looking," Deja says to Nikki on the way to school on Tuesday.

  "Turnips? Who eats turnips? My mom never cooks turnips."

  "I bet you all Miss Ida's friends eat turnips."

  "Maybe it's something only old people eat."

  Deja thinks about this. It sounds right to her.

  "Are you going to be at Miss Ida's on your birthday?"

  "No! Auntie Dee's coming back on Friday. And my birthday is Saturday. You know that."

  Nikki had been with Deja when she picked out her invitations at the stationery store in the mall. She liked that they were in the shape of a big pink birthday cake. She thinks about how much fun it's going to be when she hands them out to each girl in her class, even Antonia. Who will probably be surprised, but Auntie Dee is making her invite all the girls. Maybe she should just put the invitations in their cubbies. That way, everyone will be surprised.

  Auntie had told her to give them out last week, but she kept forgetting. Anyway, Deja didn't think it mattered all that much. She'd been talking about her upcoming party for weeks.

  As soon as they walk through the school gates, they stop. Across the yard, a group of girls are clustered around Antonia. She is handing out small white envelopes to each reaching hand. All the girls from Room Ten, from Mr. Beaumont's class, and from Mrs. Miller's are there.

  The first bell rings, and everyone freezes. Beatriz holds her hand in the air in mid-reach. Antonia grins as she holds the white envelope inches from Beatriz's hand. The bell rings again, and everyone bursts into laughter. Antonia hands Beatriz the envelope, then skips to the line where Ms. Shelby is already waiting for the class.

  "They're for my party," Antonia whispers to Deja as she passes by. "I was going to invite you, but I know you're already having your own party."

  "What's in those envelopes?" Nikki whispers to Deja as they take their places.

  "They're for her party," Deja whispers back.

  The class marches into the school in line order. At the cubbies, while everyone is getting things out of their backpacks before they put them away, Antonia reaches over Deja and hands one of the small envelopes to Rosario.

  Rosario slips an invitation out of the envelope, and she and Deja and Nikki look at it together.

  Just Because...

  Come to my Just Because party on Saturday at 2:00 p.m.

  ...Just because.

  There's going to be a roller rink, a trampoline, and a tetherball (in the ground).

  We're going to decorate our own cupcakes and make our own sundaes.

  It's going to be fun, fun, fun and you're invited!

  Please come.

  Deja stares at the invitation.

  "I don't believe it," Nikki says.

  "What?" Rosario asks.

  Deja reaches into her backpack and pulls out one of her birthday-cake invitations.

  "Look."

  Rosario opens the invitation and reads it. "Ohhh," she says. She looks at Deja and raises her eyebrows. "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm having my birthday party. What do you think?"

  Suddenly, they hear Ms. Shelby say, "I'd like all those holding conferences at the cubbies to wrap it up and get to their desks."

  They quickly put away their lunches and backpacks, scoot to their desks, and pull out their morning journals. Deja decides to write about Antonia being a copycat. On purpose.

  Tuesday

  The worst Tuesday ever, Antonia is having a party the same day I'm having mine. On purpose. It's called a "Just Because" party and she says she's having it just becaus
e but she's really having it to ruin my party. Because she knew I was having one and she probably didn't think that I was going to invite her but Auntie Dee was making me anyway. She's going to have a bunch of fun stuff and now I bet everyone's going to go to hers and not mine.

  Deja thinks of her invitations. They looked so festive just that morning when she put them in her backpack. She remembers thinking about how much fun she was going to have as she bestowed one on each girl in her classroom. Now they seem sad and pathetic.

  "Help me put my invitations in the cubbies," Deja tells Nikki after everyone has filed out to recess and Ms. Shelby has dashed out of the classroom to heat up her mug of water for tea. Deja knew this would be the best time, because Ms. Shelby heads to the teachers' lounge to heat a mug of water every recess unless she's holding kids in for not doing their homework. She hands half of the envelopes to Nikki.

  After they've put one in each girl's cubby, they walk out onto the yard to survey where things stand. Everything looks normal. Kids jumping, kids running, kids socking balls or kicking them.... But nothing's normal. A terrible wrench has been thrown into Deja's big plans.

  They settle on a bench to watch some girls from their class jump rope until the freeze bell rings. Nikki knows what Deja is thinking, and Deja knows what Nikki is thinking. Of all those girls, who is going to come to Deja's party now?

  7. Nemesissis

  After recess, Deja listens to Mr.Shelby going on and on about a field trip that's coming up. How "certain people" might not be able to participate because "certain people" haven't been doing their homework and have been getting into trouble on the yard and are having a hard time staying on task when it's time to work. Deja ticks off each thing. She does her homework, she doesn't get in trouble on the yard, and she generally stays on task. So she's definitely not "certain people."

  Deja looks over at Antonia. Unfortunately, Antonia's not "certain people," either. She usually does what she's supposed to do—at least in front of the teacher's face. Now Antonia is sitting with her hands folded, staring at Ms. Shelby. She has a little, serene smile on her face, which makes her look somewhere between happy and satisfied.

  Next Ms. Shelby talks about sack lunches and what they can and cannot bring on the field trip. Fruit is good, but sodas are a no-no, as are candy and gum. Also, they are to bring a pad and pencil to the boring natural history museum, because they will be expected to take notes.

  Deja's mind drifts to the invitations sitting in the cubbies. Her heart sinks at the thought of them winding up at the bottom of everyone's book bag, forgotten until it is time to clean out backpacks at the end of the school year. She thinks of how carefully she'd filled them out in her best handwriting in purple, because it's close to her favorite color, lavender, and it goes so well with her second favorite color, pink.

  After all that trouble, who is going to want to come to her party? There is no roller rink planned. No trampoline. No decorate your own cupcake. No make your own sundae. Just a cake and favors and chips and punch and vegetarian pizza and videos and double dutch and games. All she can picture, now, is her and Nikki sitting at the table with party hats on their heads—by themselves.

  ***

  Miss Ida is in the kitchen cooking dinner when Deja comes in through the side door. Nikki follows close behind. "Hi, Miss Ida," Deja says.

  "Hello, Miss Deja," she says, looking up with a smile. "And you brought your little friend, Nikki."

  "Hello, Miss Ida," Nikki says.

  "Is it okay if Nikki visits a while?" Deja asks.

  "Why, sure, sweetie."

  Deja nudges Nikki, and they both look at the bubbling pots on the stove. Nikki gives Deja a sympathetic look.

  Deja leads the way to the living room. "We can watch TV, but it's in black and white."

  "Black and white? Let's go out on the porch," Nikki suggests.

  "Offer your little friend a piece of candy," Miss Ida calls from the kitchen.

  Nikki's eyes widen, and she immediately looks at the dish of peppermints on the coffee table. She smiles broadly.

  Deja can't help but giggle as she holds the dish out to Nikki.

  "What's so funny?" Nikki asks, plucking a peppermint from the bowl.

  "Nothing."

  Nikki pops the candy in her mouth and tries to suck on it, then begins to chew slowly.

  Deja bursts out laughing, watching the look on Nikki's face go from anticipation to confusion. Nikki chews and chews and finally swallows. "What's wrong with this candy?"

  "It's kind of old." Deja's giggle turns into a laugh. "You should have seen your face! You want another piece?"

  "That's not even funny," Nikki says. She wanders over to peer at the old black-and-white photographs on Miss Ida's mantle. There is a picture of a man and a woman standing in front of a barn. The woman is holding a baby in a bonnet. Babies don't wear bonnets anymore.

  "That's Miss Ida's mother and father," Deja tells Nikki. "And that baby is Miss Ida."

  Nikki's eyes get big. "That's Miss Ida?" The baby looks happy and plump. She looks as if she's just getting ready to laugh out loud. Miss Ida is like her baby self, Deja realizes. She is still happy and plump. Her old black-and-white TV and funny telephone are just fine with her. She's never had any kids, and that seems to be just fine as well.

  Out on the porch, after Nikki has gone home, Deja's mood changes. Now she feels stuck at Miss Ida's, and no one is going to come to her party, not even her "far-away" daddy, probably. And she has to worry if Miss Ida is making those nasty beets for dinner.

  Deja goes back into the kitchen to watch Miss Ida cook.

  "You gonna spoil my surprise," Miss Ida says as Deja sits down at the kitchen table. "I'm making you a before-the-birthday birthday cake. Something to hold you over until you can eat your real birthday cake."

  "You're making me a cake?"

  "If that's all right with you. We'll have it when it's closer to your birthday."

  Deja is quiet for a moment. Then, before she knows it, she blurts, "This girl—at school—she's having a party on the same day as my birthday party."

  "Oh? You two have the same birthday?"

  "No, Miss Ida. She's having a 'just because' party."

  "Well, what on earth is that?" Miss Ida is stirring the cake batter by hand. The fat under her upper arm jiggles with each stroke.

  "It's a party just because. That's why she's calling it a 'just because' party."

  Miss Ida stops stirring and squints her eyes. "Is this little girl your friend?"

  "Not really," Deja says.

  "Did she know about your party?"

  "Everybody knew. They were just waiting for me to give out the invitations."

  "Hmm. Sounds like this girl might be your nemesis."

  "What's a nemesissis?"

  "Nemesis. Kind of like a competitor. Someone who competes with you. Now, there are other meanings—stronger meanings—but I think the one I'm thinking of is the one for you."

  "Nemesissis," Deja says.

  "No, nem-e-sis," Miss Ida says. "Don't worry. They usually get what they deserve."

  8. All This Party Talk

  Again, when Deja wakes up the next morning, it takes a minute to realize where she is. Then she remembers. Miss Ida's. She sits up and looks around. It's different from her own bedroom at home. The furniture is dark and heavy. On top of the dresser there's a white lace runner, and more pictures. Someone in a cap and gown, someone leaning against an old-fashioned-looking car with pointy fenders. Someone sitting on a porch, waving at the camera. These are all Miss Ida's people.

  I have people, too, Deja thinks. I don't have a mama anymore, since she died and went to heaven, but there is Auntie Dee and my daddy (Auntie's baby brother), and there is Great-Aunt Minerva, and my granddad Paw Paw (Auntie Dee's daddy), and Uncle Bill and Aunt Mildred. There are cousins, some close to Deja's age, some far from Deja's age. She has plenty of people.

  "Plenty of people," Deja says, standing on the bed so she can see mo
st of herself in the mirror.

  Miss Ida is stirring oatmeal when Deja enters the kitchen. The birthday cake is hidden. "Well, there you are," Miss Ida says. "Did you sleep well?"

  Deja thinks about this. She doesn't know if she slept well, because she was asleep when she was sleeping. "I might have slept well, Miss Ida."

  "I certainly hope you did, because we got work to do today."

  "Work?"

  "After school. Wednesday is my dinner-delivery day. I make dinners for the shut-ins."

  "What's a shut-in, Miss Ida?"

  "Someone who just can't get out. Maybe they're too sick or handicapped or too old. I could use an extra set of hands this day. When you get back here, I'm gonna dish my chili into these Styrofoam containers." She points at the stack of containers and plastic lids on the table. "And you're gonna snap those plastic lids on top."

  Assembly line, Deja thinks. They'd learned about that in Social Studies. She remembers how Ms. Shelby had them line up in three groups of eight. Then she gave each team captain a plain piece of cardboard. Everyone had a task to do when the card came to them. Each person had stuff to decorate their team's card. Those cards looked so funny when they reached the end of the line. Glitter, sequins, bits of ribbon, clumps of confetti. Deja liked that. She's looking forward to coming back to Miss Ida's and getting started.

  Later, when she heads down the front porch steps to join Nikki for the walk to school, she thinks of what Miss Ida told her: Nemesissis. She's got a nemesissis.