Local Lit

Claudia placed a pointed paper hat decorated with stars on her head and kissed her on the lips. Startled by the public display of affection, Rita Jane pulled away, then felt guilty and kissed her back.
“What was that about?” Claudia asked.

“Nothing. I’m sorry. I’ve just been in a funk lately.” She didn’t feel like talking about it, in part because she wasn’t sure what “it” was. “Look at the cakes,” she said, changing the subject.

Two gigantic cakes – one chocolate, one vanilla, each with thick, gooey layers of frosting – rested on a table covered with a plastic birthday table cloth.

“They’re vegan,” Dan announced proudly. “And there’s plenty of Soy Delicious ice cream for everyone. No animals were harmed in the preparation of this birthday celebration.”

Once a sufficient crowd had assembled, Dan declared it was time to light the candles, and then the crowd broke into a rousing chorus of happy birthday. When it was over, the four birthday people blew them out collectively.

“That is so unhygienic,” Dan remarked. “No one ever says so, but really shouldn’t we end this tradition of having people spit all over the cake?”

“You’re such a wet blanket,” Claudia said. “What do you think, Dave, is it okay to blow out birthday candles?”

“Dan’s right. It’s not a hygienic tradition.”

“You’d just agree with anything he said because you’re so in love,” she said. She turned her attention back to Rita Jane. “You have to make a wish,” she said, handing her a piece of paper. “It’s a tradition. We collect the birthday wishes and read them on New Year’s Eve.”

Rita Jane wavered between wishing for a healthy baby and wishing that the U.S. didn’t go to war. She decided to wish for both.

She took a bite of the chocolate cake, suspicious of a cake made without eggs, butter, or milk, but was surprised at how delicious and moist it was. She was on her second piece when Aimee announced that it was time to put the wishes in the time capsule. Rita Jane handed her slip of paper to Aimee.

Simon had a piece of chocolate cake in one hand and a handful of chocolate soy ice cream in the other, and chocolate covered his face, hair, and clothes. Rita Jane reached over with a napkin and attempted to clean him up before he joined the other toddlers who were already running around the room. “Come play me,” he said to Rita Jane, grabbing her hand and leading her into the children’s room.

Simon sat her next to a play kitchen set. He handed her a plastic plate with a piece of plastic food, “Hamburger,” he said. “Chicken,” he said, handing her another one. She wondered how a young vegetarian could identify these meat products that were barely identifiable to a carnivore.

“Thank you,” she said, picking up the hamburger and pretending to take a bite. Simon smiled and ran after his sister who was throwing a ball and chasing after it. Three-year-old Adrian was drawing on a blackboard with a thick piece of pink chalk. She grabbed a piece of yellow chalk and sketched out a scene of a little boy holding a piece of chalk. “That’s me,” he said, pointing to the picture.

“That’s right,” Rita Jane said. “Good job.”

Simon saw the picture and yelled, “Do me, do a picture of me,” and soon, a half dozen children were sitting at her feet, begging Rita Jane to draw pictures of them.

She noticed that the wall next to the black board was completely bare, and the idea occurred to her that she should paint a mural with the kids. She’d have to ask Claudia what committee that would go through. It would probably involve many meetings and discussions, which she had no interest in doing. She imagined sneaking into the children’s room in the middle of the night and painting it and imagined peoples’ reactions. She couldn’t imagine that anyone would make her paint over it once the project was actually done.

Through the glass window that separated the children’s room from the main room of the Common House, Rita Jane saw Claudia and Dan talking together, gesturing in her direction. She was glad to see them getting along better now. She wondered what they were talking about, but not enough to go find out.

When she had drawn all the kids, they lost interest in the blackboard and turned to other games. Simon poured her a cup of tea from his plastic teapot into a pink plastic mug and she pretended to drink it. “Delicious. It needs sugar. Could I have some sugar, please?”

“We don’t eat sugar,” Simon said. “You can have honey.” He handed her a small plastic container, whose purpose was unclear. Sydney grabbed it out of his hand and clutched it tightly. Simon wailed, “Give it me. Mine.”

“That wasn’t nice,” Rita Jane said to Sydney, unsure how much she should discipline a three-year-old.

One of the twins’ mothers intervened making Sydney give the fake honey container back to Simon.
It was hard to believe that she would soon be a parent herself. Would she know how to handle squabbles then? How did parents learn to do things like referee disputes with children? In her family, it had been simple. Her father had been the disciplinarian, which wasn’t much of an issue because Rita Jane rarely got into trouble. How would she and Claudia sort through these roles? Would Dan be involved? If so, how? There were so many details to figure out – would they live together, if so, where? Rita Jane made herself a mental note to put those questions in her God box.

She smelled her wild patchouli and lavender before she felt her hand. “A penny for your thoughts,” Claudia asked her.

Rita Jane smiled. “I’m thinking about the future. A dangerous thing to do, I know.”

“Birthdays do that to you. They always put me in a reflective mood. Have I done what I wanted to this past year, what are my goals for the coming year, that kind of thing,” Claudia let the thought trail off.
“I can’t wait to see what your baby will look like,” Rita Jane said. “It’s going to be gorgeous, of course, with you and Dan for parents.”

Claudia took Rita Jane’s hand and placed it on her belly. “It’s not my baby, it’s our baby. Can you feel it kicking?” Claudia moved her hand. “There it is, feel it? This kid is going to be a soccer player.”

Claudia placed her hand over Rita Jane’s hand. “It’s our baby,” she repeated.

“Our baby,” Rita Jane repeated softly, wishing she felt that it were true.