Birthday Wishes

Summer

Richard Hartigan was lying on top of his bed, more bored than he could ever remember. He had already played his Playstation 3 for two hours until he got stuck on a level in his game, and decided that he needed a break. He had read each of the comic books in his collection at least twice. It was summer, and for a young boy like Richard, summer was a time where he could spend days on end doing just about nothing.

But he was bored. What to do?

Oh, yes!

Richard sprang up from his bed, walked over to his TV cabinet and opened the middle drawer. He searched through a mess of computer games and DVDs until he found what he was looking for. He took it back to his bed and lay down with it.

It was a small book, white but for a few blots of colour, as if little bits of paint had beeen dropped onto it by accident. At the side was a little pocket in which Richard opened, withdrew the pen inside, and began to write.

'3rd July 2009 - Friday
My birthday is exactly four weeks away today! And I'm only beginning to write in this diary that I got for my birthday LAST year!
This is achually my first diary ever. Am I sposed to speak to you and call you diary? Okay, I think I might do that. So I'll introjuice myself.
My name is Richard and I'm nine and a half years old. I live in a house with my mum and my dad and my little sister and my dog. My dog's name is Spot, and he's a white boxer.
Oh, and my sister's name is Lucy.
Well, that's all for now, I'll write in here again soon Diary. Sorry I haven't used you yet.
I can't wait for my birthday!!
Bye!'

Richard replaced the pen and put the diary back in the drawer where he found it. He returned to his bed to consider what he could do for the rest of the day. From downstairs he heard the front door open and close; he shot off his bed and raced to the top of the staircase.

‘Dad!’

‘Hi Ricky-boy!’

Richard laughed at the comment. His father had always called him "Ricky-boy" ever since he could remember.

‘How's the game going?’ Richard’s father asked.

‘I'm stuck on level four, can you help?’

Richard's father began to make his way up the stairs. ‘Stuck on level four? I finished that one the day your mum bought you that game!’

Richard laughed. ‘No you didn't, you couldn't even beat Mario on the Nintendo!’

‘Oh, I couldn’t, could I? Well that's funny, 'cause I found that all you have to do is...’ He seized Richard, flung him over his shoulder and carried him into his bedroom, swinging him towards the bed. ‘Throw the mushrooms on the floor and JUMP ON THEM!’

Richard laughed hard with pure delight as his father pretended to jump on top of him. His father turned his attention to the games console, and switched it on.

‘Let me show you how the professionals do it. I was around when these game thingymacjigs were invented!’

Richard played the game with his father for the next while until his mother called them down for dinner. They raced down the stairs, his father claiming whoever reached the bottom last was to do the dishes. Richard won, and made a face at his father.

Hero

'12th July 2009 - Sunday.
Hi Diary, I thought I wood put up my birthday list of all the presents I've asked for: Playstation games, Batman DVDs, Comics, and sweeties!
I only ever ask for small things. My mum and dad always have something big planned that I don't know about, so I'll leave that to them!
Dad achually helped me complete my new game yesterday! I was stuck on the last boss, and he took about ten (which is how old I'll be soon!) goes and he BEAT him! I need to try it myself now.
Anyway, I'll right again soon, bye!'

***

Anthony was walking back home from work. He usually drove, but today his wife needed the car. He wanted to get home quickly, so that his son didn't need to be alone for long.

It was a bright, warm and sunny day, and the gorgeous street Anthony was walking along was quiet except for a few kids here and there out playing, and enjoying the sun. Some of them had miniature blow up pools outside their houses, and they looked as though they were having fun. Enjoying the few weeks they have before they have to go back to school, thought Anthony.

Outside one of the houses were a mother, her daughter, and their dog. The girl, who looked to be in her early teens, was throwing a toy of some sort for the dog to go and fetch. Anthony smiled; it reminded him of Spot.

On the road in the distance there was a car which Anthony noticed was quite loud. It was a grey sporty looking car with a couple of white racing stripes. Anthony rolled his eyes. Boy racer eh? It won't be that fun when you're caught by the police. The car zoomed closer to Anthony. So close now that he could see that the teenager behind the wheel was driving the thing at a ridiculous speed. The mother on Anthony's side of the road held the dog on a lead as the car neared them. But as quickly as the speeding car had appeared, another incident occurred beside the road.

Anthony didn't know if it was a cat or some food, or another dog that caught the canine's attention, but the dog sped towards the road. The driver of the sports car spotted it and slammed on the breaks hard, but his speed has been too much.

The car smashed into the dog with such a horrible smack that was as loud to Anthony as an explosion. It was the thud the car sounded when it hit the dog coupled with the poor animal's yelp that sent a shiver down the spine of Anthony. He immediately rushed towards the scene of the incident.

‘You idiot!’ The mother shouted. Her daughter had screamed, and now she was sobbing. The driver looked shocked and scared. For a moment it looked to Anthony as though he was going to get out of the car, but he didn't. He drove away instead.

‘Hey!’ Anthony shouted. ‘Come back here! Stop!’

But the driver didn't stop. He sped away even faster than he had arrived. Anthony crouched beside the dog as the mother raced forwards, crying tears of her own.

‘Cassie! Oh, Cassie!’

‘We need to get him to the vet right now,’ Anthony said. 'Do you have a car?'

‘No ... I ... I can't drive. Oh God, is she okay? Cassie?’

Anthony whipped out his mobile phone. Do vets have ambulances? What happens in these situations? He dialed his wife's number and she answered.

‘Hey baby,’ Anthony began. ‘Where are you?’

‘I'm home early, I’m just taking a bath.’

No!

‘What's the matter?’

‘Nothing - Don't worry. I'll explain later, I need to come and get the car.’ He ended the call, and turned to the dog's owner. ‘Listen, wait here, and make sure Cassie is okay. Phone the vets and tell them you need an emergancy appointment. I'm gonna run and get my car and I'll drive you there.’

The woman was astonished. ‘You - You'll do that?’

‘Just wait here’ Anthony said and ran forwards.

He heard the woman shout thanks to her while he sped off as fast as he could towards his house. It was a twenty minute walk from there but if he ran he could get there sooner. Anthony rushed through the hot summer's sun, adrenaline pouring through him. It wasn't long before he reached the house, grabbed the spare key from under one of the ornaments on the coffee table, and started his car.

***

At the police station, Anthony explained everything to the chief and even managed to recall the license plate of the car. Knocking down a dog wouldn't go against the driver too much, as the dog had thankfully survived, but speeding and fleeing from the scene of the crime would definitely warrant a serious penalty.

Anthony found out that the woman's name was Susan, and that she was hugely thankful for what he had done. When they parted she embraced him, and thanked him once more. A couple of weeks later, Anthony received a very nice letter from Susan telling him that Cassie was doing fine. He smiled at the letter, and a small tear filled his proud eye.

***

'27th July 2009 - Monday. Dear Diary, My dad is a hero...'

Accident

The crowd of people moved closer to the incident that had just taken place on the busy road. Most were startled and could not believe what had just happened. A few were visibly horrified, hands over mouth, wide eyed, and glaring. Through the smoke, the two vehicles could just be seen. The grey car with the racing stripes, the one that had caused the accident, had gotten off fairly unscathed compared to the other one. Its bumper had been knocked clean off, and its back wheels had slumped to the ground, causing the body to take much damage. This however, was nothing compared to what had happened to the blue car.

This car, containing the poor driver who had been a cautious and careful one, was flipped upside down. Three of its wheels were missing. The windscreen was smashed, the side windows were cracked. The bonnet was smashed open, its contents spewing out. The driver was not moving.

The driver of the grey car got out with a panicked and painful expression on his face. He was clutching his left arm, and limping. He staggered towards the blue car's driver as others simply looked on in shock. He didn't make it three steps before he fell to the floor and screamed out in pain and agony. In the distance, blue lights flashed through the smoke.

***

'30th July 2009 - Thursday
Diary, My dad has been taken to hospital. Mum says he was in a car-crash. It wasn't his falt. I'm waiting in the house with my sister, and granny has come over to look after us. Mum got a fone call from someone and she was really worryed. Granny came over really fast, and she's been really upset all night. Mum's not foned us yet, but it's bed time now, and I need to sleep, because it's the big day tomorrow... Dad says he has a big surprise.
Is he gonna be OK? I want to cry.'

Sorrow

Richard's eyes opened and he found himself in his bedroom. The room was dimly lighted by the summer's hot sunlight peeking its way through the gap in the closed curtains. For a moment, Richard forgot about everything. He didn't remember what day or even what month it was, and he couldn't recall anything about the events of the previous night. Then he remembered, sprang out of bed and got dressed.

Dad had to be alright, he thought to himself. It was his tenth birthday today, and nothing could go wrong, especially not that wrong. They would go to the hospital to see Dad today and he would make some big joke about the whole thing. Maybe he was already home?

He made his way down the stairs quietly because he didn't know if anyone else was up yet. He approached the living room door and slowly pushed it open, finding nothing there but his mother sitting on the sofa and staring up at him.

The television wasn't on. The radio was off. The only sound in the room was the ticking clock on the far wall.

‘Richard,’ His mother began. ‘Come in. Sit down.’

Richard said nothing, but shoved the door shut behind him as he made his way towards his mother and sat on the sofa next to her. Confusion was beginning to take control of him. His mother took a few seconds to say anything, until her words came out like water spilling from a glass.

‘Your father died last night.’

She threw herself on him and pulled him tightly against her as she wept uncontrollably. She caressed his hair as she made the most horrible, and heartbreaking noises that a human being was
capable of making.

Richard did nothing. Said nothing. He didn't cry. He didn't hug his mother back. He just sat there, not quite knowing what was happening.

How could his father be dead if the sun had risen? If the birds were singing? If the post had been delivered? The news would still be broadcast that day with no mention of Richard's father, and the radio would still play music. People would still go to work, cars would still drive outside, shops and restaurants and theatres and bars would be open, and yet Richard was supposed to believe that his father had died? The world would continue to spin and no one would notice.

After his mother had finished weeping, she kissed Richard and left him for a moment. Where did she go? Is she going to wake up Lucy? Richard didn't know what to do but just sit there, half-expecting his father to walk through the door and greet him with a huge smile on his face.

He heard someone coming down the stairs, and thought – no, knew – that is was his father, but in came his grandmother instead. She must have stayed in the guest room last night he thought. She looked at him with a worried face for a moment, before sitting on the chair opposite him. Richard's mother appeared at the doorway behind her.

‘I hope your father's going to be okay...’ His grandmother began.

His mother walked into her view and sat beside her, and repeated what she had told Richard. What followed wasn't as much of a cry than a scream. Richard thought for a moment that his grandmother was having a heart attack, until she finally calmed herself, and gently wept instead, with her head in her hands.

***

Richard didn't say much for the rest of the day. He spent most of his time pondering, and wondering what had really happened. He hardly felt sad at first but cried later on in the day, although he didn't really know why he was crying. His father was gone, and he wasn't here on his birthday. Richard felt guilty for feeling a little angry.

Mid-day, his mother presented him with his birthday gifts. She couldn't hold back a little tear as he opened them. She saved the gifts from his father till last and as he finished opening them, Richard finally allowed himself to weep for his father. His mother hugged him and they mourned together, as his grandmother watched on with her arms around Richard's little sister, who understood what was happening even less than Richard did.

‘Your dad was on his way to pick up your birthday cake when the accident happened honey,’ His mother said. ‘So I'm really sorry, but you don't have one yet but I'll buy you one soon.’

‘It’s okay mum.’ Richard said. He didn’t care about the cake. He didn’t even care about any of his presents. They were what he had asked for but he didn’t want them, he wanted his father. Couldn’t he have his father in place of all these things?

In the coming days, Richard would spend a lot of sleepless nights feeling nauseous. Sometimes he would go downstairs with his mother just for her company, which made him feel a little better. He would cry each and every night. Some nights he would feel intense anger, and he would punch his pillows and kick items in his room. But it would always end in tears, and it would never accomplish anything. Mostly, he would only be confused. He tried to guess where his dad was, if he was watching him, and if he knew how he felt about him. He would feel his father's presence in every hour of every day and would try to please him by looking after his mother and his sister. Some nights he would speak to his father, pleading with him to show himself, to speak to him, to communicate with him in any way. But it would never happen.

The one thing that would tear away at Richard most for the rest of his life wasn’t the fact that he would never see his father again, and it wasn't that he didn't know where his father was. Richard's only wish was that he had had the chance to say goodbye and I love you to his father the last time he saw him.

‘11th August 2009 – Tuesday
Dear Dad, If you can read this I want you to know that I miss you allredy and I love you so much.
We had your funeral today. Everyone cryed. I cryed.
The lady who had that dog you saved came and she called you a hero. I bet that if youre up in heaven you ARE a superhero. Flying about the clouds.
Mum has been speeking to you. Can you hear her?
I’ll right to you again Dad.
You were the best dad ever and if you dont come back I’ll never forget you.
I love you.
Bye.'