Happy Birthday to You (Birthday Trilogy, Book 3) (4 page)

Known more as
Coach than as Theodore around the high school campus, he always thought of
himself as a misunderstood man who many believed to be nothing more than an
egotistical
jerk
. He had a tough personality to deal
with; he knew that. On the court, he was the scariest man on the planet, not
only because of his booming voice and sheer height, but because of his will to
win, every time out. He now had enjoyed two straight years of winning the State
Championship, and he was ready for a third. He had been coaching basketball for
nearly sixteen years, and
this
had been
his first time enjoying two straight wins in a row
. He
didn’t want the momentum to stop.

As he started
running down Kietzke, he thought about how much flack he would receive if any
of his students found out about his true love—writing poetry. He didn’t
get much of his writing published, and when he did, he published it under his
pen name—Thomas Winters—but it was something that gave him creative
and mental clarity every morning before his busy day began. He would often wake
up as early as 4 A.M., read poetry for an hour or so, and then sit down at his
desk in the corner of his bedroom and write. A lot of his material he threw
away in the trash. Some of it he put away in a folder to come back to later.
There were pieces he had been working on for weeks, months, even years—in
fact, he had been working for over five years on a piece about his nephew Joey,
who had died in the early 2000’s in a tragic car wreck. He loved the work, and
it gave him a chance to distance himself from the stress of his job.

Theodore was
lost in thought as he started running across an intersection, not recognizing
that he had just missed the light to cross. A truck started speeding toward
him.

“Whoa!” Theodore
shouted as the truck driver slammed on his brakes and promptly stopped just a
few feet from his face. Theodore gasped and tried to catch his breath.

“Watch where
you’re going, you
jerk
!” the driver shouted,
as he backed up a few yards, and then swerved around him.

Theodore found a
bench to sit on at the other side of the intersection. His heart was racing,
and he could feel his head pounding. He’d only been running for fifteen
minutes, but he could tell his sixty-five-year-old heart couldn’t take all of
this arduous exercise any longer. He stood up, headed back toward the
intersection, and decided he would just walk home.

“You’ve got a
busy week ahead,” he said to himself. “Let’s not tire yourself out, Coach.”

This time he
made sure it was safe to cross before he started walking, and he was happy to
reach the other side of the intersection without facing a premature death.

He allowed
himself to complete a half jog in the last mile home, and when he arrived at
his house, he had sweat stains on his forehead, his cheeks, under his armpits,
and down his back. His dog Eddie greeted him at the door, and he made his way
into the shower for a quick rinse.

At 6:00 Theodore
made himself a light dinner—half a barbecued chicken breast with some
buttered broccoli. He sipped on some of his favorite beer—the strong and
rich Imperial Stout—and enjoyed the newest issue of
Poets & Writers Magazine
.
 

At 6:30 he sat
down on his couch and turned on the TV. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to watch a
movie or the local news. He decided on the news for now, and then maybe at 7:00
he’d start a movie. He wanted a comedy. Something with Will Ferrell, or Jim
Carrey maybe. He didn’t hate Ben Stiller, but he preferred Will or Jim. He saw
that something goofy with Will Ferrell was starting at 7:15 on HBO, so he
decided he’d check that one out.

Before he
changed the channel, he noticed that the reporter on the local Channel 2 news
was saying something about babies growing at a rapid rate around Reno. But
Theodore didn’t pay much attention to it. By the time he had settled in on the
couch, his eyelids had already started shutting tight.

By 6:45 Theodore
Welsh was asleep.

His heart gave
out five minutes later.

3.

The house was
ominously dark when we returned a few minutes after midnight. The alarm hadn’t
been set, which agitated my dad, but everyone mostly kept to
themselves
as they brought all the luggage into their appropriate bedrooms.

Kimber looked
about ready to pass out as she headed downstairs to her bedroom. My mom started
checking messages on the answering machine as my dad yawned and headed
upstairs. It had been a long day for everybody. It was time to get some sleep.

But
not for Liesel and me.
While I had assumed we’d be taking off in the morning, to wherever Liesel
thought we should go, she told me we had to leave as soon as my family headed
to bed. There was no time to rest and relax. She said we had a long drive ahead
of us, and that it was best to leave now. I was barely able to keep my eyes
open, but thankfully Liesel had gotten plenty of sleep on the plane and looked
wired enough to skip sleep for a whole week.
 

Liesel and I
left our luggage in the car, telling my mom we would bring it in in the morning.
We had to take in our cosmetic bags just so no one would suspect we were
skipping town, but we both decided it illogical to have to bring in our heavy
suitcases and then bring them right back out again a half hour later.

As Liesel sat
down on my bed and tried calling her grandfather, I headed back upstairs. I
knew my parents would be asleep within minutes. I knew that my time with them
was limited.

“You guys need
any help unpacking up here?” I asked, entering their bedroom. My mom was
already in bed, while I could hear my dad urinating in the bathroom. I sat down
on the end of the bed and started petting our dog Cinder, who looked overjoyed
to see me.

“Well that’s
really sweet of you, Cam,” my mom said, sitting up in bed and smiling at me.
“No, we can handle it. We didn’t have that much.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, of
course.”

“OK.”

I stood up but
didn’t leave the room yet. I needed to say good-bye. But I didn’t know how to
do it in a way that wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

“Anything else?”
my mom asked. “You should get to bed. It’s late.”

“Yeah, I know…”
I stood there for another few seconds. “Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“I just… I just
wanted to say…”

“What?”

“I love you.”

My mom scooted
toward me, a frown appearing on her face. “Oh my God… Cam…
are
you OK?”

“I’m fine.”

“Cuz if
something’s happening again…”

I shook my head.
“It’s not. I promise. I swear a thousand times. You don’t have to worry about
me.”

You just have to worry about you. And
Dad. And Kimber.

“Then what…” my
mom trailed off.

“I just… thanks
for everything, really. I’m so lucky to have you and Dad around to help me, to
support me. You guys are just… you’re the best.”

“What’s going
on?” my dad asked, entering the bedroom and taking a seat on the bed. He had
his back turned to me, as he was focused on removing his dirty socks.

“Nothing,” my
mom said. “Cameron’s just being the sweetest son a mother could ever ask for.”

“What?” my dad
asked, finally turning my direction. “What’s he saying?”

I’m saying good-bye.

“I’m saying I
just really love you both.” I could feel tears coming on. I had to fight them.
If I started crying, they would know something was up. And I didn’t want that.
“You guys have been really great, and I’m gonna…”
I’m
gonna
miss you.
“I’m never gonna
forget how much you guys have sacrificed for me, how much you’ve… you know… put
up with me. Kimber and I are so very lucky.”

My mom looked
about ready to cry, but my dad appeared suspicious. “What’s this all about,
Cam?” he asked.

I shrugged. “A
sentimental moment. That’s all.”

I walked up to
my mom and gave her a big hug. “I love you, Cam,” she said. “Thanks for coming
this weekend.”

“Of course,” I
said. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”

I thought I
could see a smile on my dad’s face. That gave me enough reason to give him a hug,
too. I couldn’t remember a time I had hugged my dad when I wasn’t near death. I
put my arms out.

“What are you
doing?” he asked.

“Trying to hug
my father,” I said.

It took him a
few seconds, but he warmed up to my hug. He slapped me on the back a few times
and nodded.

“OK,” he said.
“Better get to bed now.”

“Of course,” I
said. “Good night.”

As I exited the
room, I turned around one last time. Before my dad turned out the overhead
light, I could see the remnants of a tear on his cheek.

I smiled, closed
the door behind me, and headed downstairs.

I would never
see them alive again.

---

When I stepped
into my bedroom, I caught Liesel standing in the corner, ominously silent. As I
made my way up to her, I could start to hear her crying.

“Leese?”

She turned
around and wiped tears from her eyes. She tried to act like she hadn’t been
sobbing, but it was too late for that. “Hey. Sorry.”

“What is it?”

I looked over
her shoulder to see that she had been staring at a framed photograph on the
edge of my desk of me and my family, taken two years ago on a vacation in Cabo
San Lucas. We looked like the happiest family in the world, a family who would
never be broken apart by anything or anyone.

“I’m sorry,” she
said. “I forgot about that photo.” She walked over to the bedroom door and
turned to me. “Are you ready?”

I didn’t answer
her right away. I too stared at the photo for a moment, trying to remember
those joyous, less complicated times. I licked my lips and cracked my neck.

Don’t cry, Cam. Please don’t cry.

“Almost,” I
said, taking a deep breath and turning around. Liesel and I shared eye contact
for a few seconds. She knew what I still had to do.

She reached her
hand out for mine and I embraced it, briefly. I entered the hallway and knocked
on Kimber’s door. I didn’t hear a response, but the light was on so I slowly
opened it.

I looked in to
see her bed unmade, but Kimber nowhere to be found.

“Cam?” Her voice
echoed down the hallway. I turned around to see her in the bathroom brushing
her teeth.

I nodded and
smiled. “Oh, there you are.”

“What is it?”
she asked nonchalantly, not having a clue that it was unlikely we would ever
see each other again. Liesel tried to infuse in me the positive thinking that
we’d be slaying the evil Hannah within a few days, with nobody in the world
having to suffer at all. But that seemed pretty far-fetched, especially since I
just discovered Liesel crying over a freaking photo. I could tell she knew the
odds of us winning this fight were slim to none. But I remained hopeful. If I
didn’t have hope, there’d be nothing left.

“I just wanted
to say goodnight,” I said to Kimber as I reached the doorway.

She finished
brushing her teeth and started wiping her mouth with a towel. “Well… that’s
kind of weird.”

“And I wanted to
say how amazing you were in D.C.
You
’ve really made me
a proud older brother.”

She set her
hands on her hips and squinted her eyes at me. “OK, what’s really going on?”

“Huh?”

“You rarely go
out of your way to say goodnight to me, let alone complement me. What’s up? Please
don’t tell me you have another aging problem, Cam. You’ve gone forward and
backward. There’s nowhere else for you to go. Except…”

“Sideways.”
   

“Sideways.
Exactly.” She paused, chuckled, and said, “What would sideways aging be?”

“Maybe I could
jump back and forth. Like wake up seventy tomorrow, then twenty-two the next
day, then three the day after that, then 119 the day after that.”

“You’d have some
aches and pains.”

“It’d be
awkward,” I said.

“It’d be Hell.
Hella funny, that is!”

She started
laughing, and even though her little quip was pretty lame, I laughed along with
her. She looked so cute right now, smiling and guffawing in the bright bathroom
with the fierce overhead fluorescents shining down on her.

“Anyway,” she
said, “was that all?”

“That was all.”

I knew it’d be
less suspicious to turn around and head back to my bedroom, but I couldn’t
resist. I took a step inside the bathroom and gave Kimber a big, unexpected
hug.

Before I could
even recognize my sadness, a tear rolled down my cheek.