Sally's Birthday
Chapter 14: Sally's Birthday
Sally bounced into Perks and held up her mug. It was the shorthand she’d developed with Karl, who swung by and filled it up. “Bore da. You seem particularly peppy today.”
“Bore da,” Sally returned. Karl had been teaching her Welsh and she was doing beautifully if she did say so herself… which she did. “I am officially fifteen as of,” she twisted to check the café’s clock, “six hours ago.”
“Happy birthday,” Karl said, “pen-blwydd hapus.”
“Diolch,” Sally said as she sipped her coffee. “Nectar of the gods, I swear, Karl.” She dug a card out of her tote bag. “This is for you. Is Taylor in the back? I’ve got one for her and Ryan and John as well.”
Karl stared at the invitation. “I…”
“You have to come,” Sally said, waving Taylor over as the woman exited the kitchen. “You haven’t been to a birthday party until you’ve been to a Madison birthday party. My favourite was my ninth. Country music themed. Innocent fun, you’re thinking. But when the cops heard a bunch of fourth graders singing Hank Williams Jr. songs about classic country debauchery, they shut us down. We were called indecent; it was fantastic. Good times.”
“Cops shut down a nine year old’s birthday party?”
“Where?” Taylor asked as she joined the conversation.
Sally beamed. “My birthday party is tonight and you have to be there.”
Taylor clapped her hands. “Oh, I love parties. We had some great parties back in Newport. Drama-filled, but great.” She hugged the younger girl. “Happy birthday, Sally. I love birthday parties the most. You get all your friends to pretend you’re marvelous.”
“Did you say pretend?” Sally adopted a hurt expression and a timid voice.
“Oh no,” Taylor flailed her arms. “I meant, you are marvelous.”
Sally laughed. “No worries. I was just joshing. Now your family and Karl have to come. You can hang out with my Dad and my English teacher and all complain about us young’uns and our loud music. Oh,” Sally brightened as she thought, “could you ask John to please, please bring his AC/DC CDs? All I’ve got is cassettes and, while they’re great for sibling jam sessions when Cody would pick me up from school, we can’t make the tape deck loud enough.” With a cheery wave, Sally bounced off again.
That night Karl arrived to a modestly large house. He knocked politely on the door, the Brit in him surfacing.
“Who the hell knocks at a party? C’mon in, open house!” Ben’s voice called from inside.
Karl laughed and opened the unlocked door, holding up his gift.
Ben smiled back and pointed to a nearby table, where an assortment of presents was already grouped.
Setting down his gift, Karl took off his coat and draped it over a chair with all the rest. Heading into the densely crowded living room, he heard a guitar melody he’d recognise anywhere. Sure enough, Gentry was the night’s entertainment and the décor seemed structured around classic rock. Tiny silver basses were strung around as streamers, posters of bands were plastered on every available wall space, and nearly everyone was sporting a band’s logo on their shirt.
Sally, for her part, was wearing an AC/DC shirt and whistling when Gentry finished his song. Leading her school chums in applause she whooped.
Gentry smiled at the crowd and pointed at the teenager. “This is for the birthday girl.”
As the first chords of “Happy Birthday, Darling” began, Karl observed the two young people. Gentry was entrenched in the music, deepening his voice to imitate Conway Twitty and Sally looked like she was in thrall. When the song ended, she ever started just a bit, as if she’d been daydreaming.
Sidling up to her, Karl said, “He asked your Dad about what song you’d most like.”
Sally blushed. “That was considerate of him. Not very thematic, but considerate.” She smiled. “I just love watching him play. Not just because he’s gorgeous, though that doesn’t hurt. But… it’s like listening to beauty made into sound. Like watching him roll away a stone, like his whole family is up there with him. Do you know what I mean, Karl?”
“Hardly ever,” the man replied.
A loud crash came from the vicinity of the kitchen, along with Ben’s voice saying, “Taylor, we’re all for punk rock style state smashing. After all, that’s basically the whole reason why Texas exists.”
“I heard that!” Gentry, born and raised in Texas thank you very much, shouted back with a grin.
Karl headed off to see if what mayhem his employee was wreaking.
Taylor was daintily turning over an angel food cake and Ben was collecting the serving plates off the floor. “See, this is why we don’t have nice things,” he chuckled.
Karl hooked a thumb at the scene behind him. “Sally’s popular.”
Ben beamed. “Popular? She’s beloved. That’s pretty much the entirety of the town in there. That’s why the parties are so legendary; both my kids are favourites of everyone. Sally’s spent her whole life here and we’ve been in Castle Rock a good portion of Cody’s as well. After… I couldn’t handle another city. So I found a map of New England and told Cody to point anywhere. He pointed to Castle Rock, Vermont and that’s how we got here.”
Karl smiled. “I did something similar. Only I tossed a very sharp pencil.”
“Huh,” Ben said, “maybe the place is magic.”
“Magic seems as good an explanation as any for this.”
Sally bounced into Perks and held up her mug. It was the shorthand she’d developed with Karl, who swung by and filled it up. “Bore da. You seem particularly peppy today.”
“Bore da,” Sally returned. Karl had been teaching her Welsh and she was doing beautifully if she did say so herself… which she did. “I am officially fifteen as of,” she twisted to check the café’s clock, “six hours ago.”
“Happy birthday,” Karl said, “pen-blwydd hapus.”
“Diolch,” Sally said as she sipped her coffee. “Nectar of the gods, I swear, Karl.” She dug a card out of her tote bag. “This is for you. Is Taylor in the back? I’ve got one for her and Ryan and John as well.”
Karl stared at the invitation. “I…”
“You have to come,” Sally said, waving Taylor over as the woman exited the kitchen. “You haven’t been to a birthday party until you’ve been to a Madison birthday party. My favourite was my ninth. Country music themed. Innocent fun, you’re thinking. But when the cops heard a bunch of fourth graders singing Hank Williams Jr. songs about classic country debauchery, they shut us down. We were called indecent; it was fantastic. Good times.”
“Cops shut down a nine year old’s birthday party?”
“Where?” Taylor asked as she joined the conversation.
Sally beamed. “My birthday party is tonight and you have to be there.”
Taylor clapped her hands. “Oh, I love parties. We had some great parties back in Newport. Drama-filled, but great.” She hugged the younger girl. “Happy birthday, Sally. I love birthday parties the most. You get all your friends to pretend you’re marvelous.”
“Did you say pretend?” Sally adopted a hurt expression and a timid voice.
“Oh no,” Taylor flailed her arms. “I meant, you are marvelous.”
Sally laughed. “No worries. I was just joshing. Now your family and Karl have to come. You can hang out with my Dad and my English teacher and all complain about us young’uns and our loud music. Oh,” Sally brightened as she thought, “could you ask John to please, please bring his AC/DC CDs? All I’ve got is cassettes and, while they’re great for sibling jam sessions when Cody would pick me up from school, we can’t make the tape deck loud enough.” With a cheery wave, Sally bounced off again.
That night Karl arrived to a modestly large house. He knocked politely on the door, the Brit in him surfacing.
“Who the hell knocks at a party? C’mon in, open house!” Ben’s voice called from inside.
Karl laughed and opened the unlocked door, holding up his gift.
Ben smiled back and pointed to a nearby table, where an assortment of presents was already grouped.
Setting down his gift, Karl took off his coat and draped it over a chair with all the rest. Heading into the densely crowded living room, he heard a guitar melody he’d recognise anywhere. Sure enough, Gentry was the night’s entertainment and the décor seemed structured around classic rock. Tiny silver basses were strung around as streamers, posters of bands were plastered on every available wall space, and nearly everyone was sporting a band’s logo on their shirt.
Sally, for her part, was wearing an AC/DC shirt and whistling when Gentry finished his song. Leading her school chums in applause she whooped.
Gentry smiled at the crowd and pointed at the teenager. “This is for the birthday girl.”
As the first chords of “Happy Birthday, Darling” began, Karl observed the two young people. Gentry was entrenched in the music, deepening his voice to imitate Conway Twitty and Sally looked like she was in thrall. When the song ended, she ever started just a bit, as if she’d been daydreaming.
Sidling up to her, Karl said, “He asked your Dad about what song you’d most like.”
Sally blushed. “That was considerate of him. Not very thematic, but considerate.” She smiled. “I just love watching him play. Not just because he’s gorgeous, though that doesn’t hurt. But… it’s like listening to beauty made into sound. Like watching him roll away a stone, like his whole family is up there with him. Do you know what I mean, Karl?”
“Hardly ever,” the man replied.
A loud crash came from the vicinity of the kitchen, along with Ben’s voice saying, “Taylor, we’re all for punk rock style state smashing. After all, that’s basically the whole reason why Texas exists.”
“I heard that!” Gentry, born and raised in Texas thank you very much, shouted back with a grin.
Karl headed off to see if what mayhem his employee was wreaking.
Taylor was daintily turning over an angel food cake and Ben was collecting the serving plates off the floor. “See, this is why we don’t have nice things,” he chuckled.
Karl hooked a thumb at the scene behind him. “Sally’s popular.”
Ben beamed. “Popular? She’s beloved. That’s pretty much the entirety of the town in there. That’s why the parties are so legendary; both my kids are favourites of everyone. Sally’s spent her whole life here and we’ve been in Castle Rock a good portion of Cody’s as well. After… I couldn’t handle another city. So I found a map of New England and told Cody to point anywhere. He pointed to Castle Rock, Vermont and that’s how we got here.”
Karl smiled. “I did something similar. Only I tossed a very sharp pencil.”
“Huh,” Ben said, “maybe the place is magic.”
“Magic seems as good an explanation as any for this.”