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The Birthday Party

Natalie van Dyk

    The black envelope sat on the table invitingly in front of Ransford, yet he could not bring himself to open it. He had been expecting the invitation; the news of the child’s birth had spread like wildfire. Ransford specifically remembered that it was a boy. However, now that the news was tangible, he was even more nervous for the upcoming ritual. His party clothes hung, ready, over the chair beside him and he knew he could delay no longer. After all, the birthday party was this afternoon. With a sigh, Ransford lifted his weary body from the kitchen chair and started getting dressed as Ella came bustling into the room, wearing her own dark garments.
    “You really must hurry up,” she scolded, “the party is due to begin in less than an hour.” Ransford nodded reluctantly as Ella fluttered busily around him, watering the lilies on the kitchen table and wrapping their gift. She seemed oblivious to Ransford’s unenthusiastic mood but as she bent down to fix his tie, Ransford could see worry etched across her forehead. Ella quickly smiled when she noticed Ransford’s troubled expression and busied herself with trivial tasks to pass the time.
    Summer was dead, but the sun was still struggling to shine behind the clouds on the afternoon of the birthday party. Ransford and Ella closed their front door and walked slowly down the pavement sidewalk toward the park. Ella’s wrinkled hand clasped Ransford’s tightly as they passed the stylish boutiques of the main square. In the near distance, the sound of a hammer thumping dangerously against a piece of wood seemed to keep the pace of their afternoon march. Every so often, a familiar face would wave cheerfully at Ransford, and he would dutifully return the gesture. A blue streamer tied tightly around a park bench caught Ransford’s eye and he pointed in its direction.
    “Almost there now,” Ransford stated stiffly. Ella nodded silently in agreement.
    “Don’t know why they even bother with that thing,” Ransford continued, disgruntled. He signaled in the direction of a large green sign that read “Temsville, Population 367.” “It doesn’t ever change.”
    “I suppose it’s just tradition,” Ella proposed.
    “I still think it ought to be taken down. Like I said, the number doesn’t ever change.” The couple was silent as they continued up the hill towards the park.
    Ransford and Ella’s walk stopped abruptly at the entrance of the park as they gazed at its transformation. Streamers were lodged into maple trees, balloons bobbled in the afternoon wind and sunlight glinted off the rows of chairs set up before the stage. In contrast, the stage looked dark and gloomy, its dark wood seeming to soak in the few feeble rays of sun and hide it in the shadows. Ransford shivered as a cool wind chased him from behind, and he pulled his sweater tighter around his frail frame. A cluck from behind made Ransford turn around to see Ella looking sternly at him, motioning to follow her as she headed in the direction of a large mound of presents. Ransford followed, noticing a young couple gently cradling an armful of blankets, standing beside the pile of gifts.
    “Congratulations,” Ella said to the couple, her smile tight. They smiled happily, gazing down at the tiny figure.
    “Thank you. We couldn’t be happier.” They looked to Ransford and saw the black invitation protruding from his side pocket and smiled even more widely.
    “We are truly grateful that you could share this special day with us,” the young man finished. Ransford smiled, the joy not reaching to his eyes.
    “Of course, it’s tradition,” he stated simply. The two couples stood silent for a few moments, awkwardness settling in around Ransford and Ella. Finally, Ransford cleared his throat and said, “Well I suppose we’ll see you at the gift opening.” The young couple nodded slowly in unison, cradling their bundle of joy even tighter. With one last appreciative smile at the eldest member of the community, the young couple turned their attention towards the next individuals ready to give their well wishes for the infant boy.
    Ella steered Ransford away from the newest addition to the community towards a nearby bench. The couple sat down gratefully and Ransford tightened the laces on his white walking shoes, disregarding the nearby friendly faces trying to catch his eye. It seemed like the final lingering members of the town had finally arrived to the party. A professionally dressed middle-aged man emerged from the crowd and walked into the center of the gathering with his arms exalted towards the sky.
    “Welcome!” He boomed, smiling widely. Everyone stopped their conversations to look in his direction. He waited a few moments for total silence, and then continued. “We are gathered today to celebrate the birth of Jim and Moira’s baby boy.” He stopped again for dramatic effect, smiling warmly at the young couple standing near the growing pile of gifts. A ripple of conversation spread throughout the crowd as people craned their necks to get a better look at the baby. Ransford noticed that an elderly woman standing close to him looked especially pleased at what she saw, and nodded to herself as she stuffed her own pink invitation deep into her purse.
    “As the Town Director, I would personally like to congratulate Jim and Moira on the newest addition to their family,” the man continued. Applause encircled Ransford, and he joined in half-heartedly. Jim and Moira grinned, waving appreciatively at the waiting crowd. The Town Director continued.
    “It is on days like these that we celebrate the gift of life.” Cliff, the Town Director, looked around superiorly and puffed his chest.
    “We are ever-so-fortunate to be able to enjoy the benefits of communal cooperation and are thankful for the children in our community who will ensure our continued way of life. Here, we understand that with life comes the responsibility to contribute to the success of the town.” The onlookers seemed transfixed, taking in every word of Cliff’s speech with reverence. Cliff smiled widely, turning in a circle to address every community member. “I hope that you will laugh, eat and celebrate on this day of thanks.” A murmur of excitement passed throughout the group and a child’s tiny laugh was heard deep in crowd. Cliff seemed amused, and continued his speech.
    “Like the Cliff before myself, the Cliff before that Cliff and so on, I welcome you to today’s celebration.” Applause erupted at Cliff’s conclusion, and Ransford and Ella clapped along politely with the rest of the town.
    Cliff waved at his audience, and then hustled towards the cake display. Ransford and Ella watched from the safety of their bench as he and the town bakers fussed with the candles during their lighting. It was common knowledge in the town that following Cliff’s opening speech, the birthday celebration would begin with the customary singing of “Happy Birthday” and the cutting of the cake. So, as residents of the town made their way over to the cake display, Ransford and Ella followed closely behind the crowd. Ransford noticed the overwhelmingly dangerous amount of blue candles covering the top of the cake and cleared his throat before reluctantly joining in the ritualistic singing of “Happy Birthday.” Ella’s wobbly voice seemed crystal clear to Ransford among the tide of voices that echoed throughout the park. He squeezed her hand tightly for support. When the singing came to a halt, the members of the town gazed attentively at the new baby boy. His parents stood proud by his side, each grasping one of his tiny hands. Ransford noticed their faces contorting to inhale a large breath of air and the sudden puff of the candles extinguishing. One lone candle remained on fire and Ransford had an odd urge to reach out and protect it but he was too late. The boy’s father quenched the flame with a severe breath, earning another round of applause from the crowd.
    People started to shuffle close together, waiting in line expectantly for their slice of birthday cake. Ransford noticed that Ella’s expression was stony in the feeble sunlight, and his throat became dry as he was handed his piece. Ransford looked up in surprise at the new parents when he realized that there was a candle still lodged in his slice of cake. The wick was burnt and crusty, and Ransford noticed that a few small drops of wax had landed on his cake. He took out the candle and presented it to the new parents, who looked at him with excitement.
    Ransford and Ella retreated back to their bench to eat their cake. A cool wind blew throughout the park as clouds choked the few rays of sun which had previously illuminated the birthday party. Shouts of laughter pierced the silent air as Ransford and Ella turned to see children thrashing a wooden bat violently against a piñata. An older child took his turn to bat, his face determined. Ransford inhaled sharply as the bat split open the piñata, its contents spilling wildly onto the parched grass. Children darted without caution to retrieve the waiting candy, their mouths salivating.
    Ella nudged Ransford in his side, pointing towards the stage; a large number of the town had already taken their seats. Ransford took a shaky breath, and nodded.
    “Let’s go,” he said simply. Ransford and Ella stood up and headed slowly towards the stage as a group of young children crossed their path, giggling as they chased a family of monarch butterflies. Ransford and Ella sat in the back row, the stage looming ominously up ahead. The pile of presents had been moved onto the stage, and Cliff suddenly appeared front and center. Ransford twitched uncomfortably beside Ella.
    “Ladies, gentlemen, and children of all ages,” he boomed; he was still smiling. “If you would all be so kind as to take your seats, we will begin the gift-opening ritual momentarily.” Ella squeezed Ransford’s hand tightly as the new parents and their baby boy took to the stage. The parents sat in hard, metal chairs and held their new child tenderly, shielding his face from the cooling temperature. Ransford’s foot thumped the ground faster and faster as the last of the town took their seats. He noticed the town carpenter leaning against a pine box beside the stage and realized that the hammering sound he had heard in the morning had stopped long ago. Cliff appeared once again on the stage. He beamed at his audience.
    “The time has finally come,” he began, “to present this young boy with his first present.” Ransford’s breathing became quicker, and Ella looked worried. Cliff motioned for the new parents to stand and present their child to the crowd.
    “As per usual, the first and most important gift that this child will receive is that of his name,” Cliff announced. The new parents waited, expectantly. “The name given to this child, and that which he will pass on in the future, is Ransford.” The town suddenly erupted into applause and Ella tugged at Ransford’s arm. Tears peaked out of the corners of her eyes as she motioned for Ransford to stay sitting. Ransford sadly took out his black invitation and opened it for the first time, fully knowing what its contents said. His name stood out in bold print and he passed it morosely to Ella, who stuffed it into her purse with a shaky hand.
    “It is time for the official exchange of names,” Ransford heard in the distance. The town waited anxiously. Ransford began to stand when Ella whimpered beside him, tugging on his sleeve and motioning for him to sit.
    “It’s my turn,” Ransford whispered to her before standing up. The faces of his friends and neighbours turned to face him as he walked slowly towards the stage, hiking with difficultly up its steep steps. He stood motionless in the middle of the stage as Cliff walked towards him and shook his hand. The new parents also approached him excitedly, holding out their baby for Ransford to hold. Ransford took the tiny bundle into his arms, alarmed at how small it was. He looked with hesitation towards the sea of faces in front of him, concentrating on the tears streaming down Ella’s face. Those same tears seemed to fall from the sky as the clouds opened up and began to cry. Cliff cleared his throat, wanting to speed up the process as the town began to shuffle impatiently in their seats.
    “It is a tradition in this town that with the birth of a new life comes the death of the eldest,” Cliff announced to the waiting audience. “This ritual has served our small community well, ensuring our continued success and prosperity.” Cliff paused for a breath before continuing his well-rehearsed speech. “We celebrate Ransford today, both the new and the old. May the youngest Ransford live up to the expectations set before him by his forbearer,” Cliff finished dramatically. He turned to Ransford expectantly, and Ransford handed the baby boy back to his parents. Cliff held out his hand for support and Ransford took it gratefully as he walked up a steep plank. The rain dampened his face and hid his tears as he stepped out into the unknown, the rope tightening around his neck to create a spot in the town for the newest birthday boy.

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