Lakewood(40)

A boy was standing alone in a corner, holding a soccer ball and whispering to it, “I hate you, Dad. I hate you, Dad.”

Two girls were holding dolls. The dolls and the girls were wearing name tags: Madison F. and Madison T. The girls were whispering to the dolls. The girl on the left with eyes like polished brown stones looked up at Lena. She waved. Made her doll wave too.





16


Charlie turned 26 and threw a party to celebrate. His house was small—even before the party had officially started, it felt filled with the friends who had come to help push furniture against the walls or set up the bar and desserts. Lena was used to college parties: If it started at 10, you got there around 11:30 when everyone was buzzed enough to have fun. Here the party started at 8:30 and people were almost perfectly on time. A small crowd was already formed around Charlie. They were telling jokes and asking him what he was going to do during this 27th year.

A woman with curly red hair pushed through to say, “No wonder you’re this way. Cancer.” The woman burped and walked away. Charlie looked upset for a moment, then shrugged.

Everyone resumed talking quickly to smooth the moment away. Lena looked from talking mouth to talking mouth. She couldn’t believe all these people could pretend something so weird hadn’t happened. Lena pulled out her phone to text Tanya, knew Tanya would think everyone’s reaction was just as weird as the thing the girl had said. One of the pleasures of going to parties with Tanya was they equally enjoyed people-watching. They could spend hours afterward talking about the way a girl danced using her scarf as a prop, the guy who was trying so hard to be deep, the couple who were obviously fighting but thought they were being convincingly in love. Lena overheard the redheaded woman saying, “Well, it could be worse. He could be a Virgo. Nothing is worse than a Virgo man.”

Lena put her phone in her pocket. She didn’t want to spend the rest of the night worrying about whether or not Tanya would text her.

The doorbell rang. It was Charlie’s parents stopping by with a cake from the grocery store. The royal-blue cake frosting read HBD FROM DINOSAUR LORD!!! A toy raptor wearing armor and a black coat was sitting on the cake next to the message.

“Someone somehow got your cake,” Charlie’s dad said. He kept looking at Charlie, the cake, his wife, the people gathered around to celebrate. He touched the side of Charlie’s head, his shoulder, and said, “I’m so proud of you.”

Lena felt emotional watching Charlie’s dad’s reactions and went to get another drink.

“God, Charlie better hope he ages like his dad,” a woman was saying.

“Black don’t crack,” another white woman said with a pleased look on her face.

Lena spoke a little to Mr. and Mrs. Graham. They were very polite and they, too, said, The longer you’re here, the easier it gets. When Lena walked away to get a beer, she overheard some of Charlie’s friends talking about how formal his parents were. It’s forever middle school with Josie and Andre. They acted like it was a bad thing, but Lena thought it was nice. A woman handed Lena a shot. It tasted like watery coffee and grain alcohol. “We’re calling it a Charlie,” the woman yelled in Lena’s ear.

“Rude,” Lena said, but the woman didn’t hear her.

Mariah grabbed Lena’s arm and told her a person’s soul is completely formed by the time they turn 24. She was drinking a cup of tea out of a mug. “I don’t mean someone can’t change.” She blew at the steam. “But all the margins for change are fully formed.”

Lena had no idea what that meant. “Cool.”

“You have so much soul-growing left. I’m jealous.” Mariah showed Lena the long piece of cedar she was going to give Charlie as a birthday gift. A note taped to it had meditation and mindfulness instructions. A reminder that depending on what he wanted the coming year to focus on, he needed to choose between a full moon burning and a new moon burning.

“That’s a lovely piece of wood,” Lena said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She owed Charlie $20 now; he had bet Mariah was going to give him something to burn: sage, or a piece of wood, or an unsettling doll. Lena had said it was going to be crystals or some sort of jewelry that incorporated power stones.

Ian and his boyfriend, Mark, looked like they regretted coming, or maybe like they were pretending not to be fighting. They were huddled in a corner, whispering to each other. Ian held a small plate of cornichons and cheese cubes. It seemed like he was refusing to share them. He kept shifting the plate between his hands whenever his boyfriend reached for one. Behind them was Pancake Butt, sipping a beer.

Lena put her drink down, deciding that if an observer was here, it was better to slow down. The cake was served; it was marble, chocolate and yellow. Charlie’s parents took photos of their son with his cake, then told them all to make smart choices tonight. When they were out the door, Charlie grabbed two glasses filled with the shots named after him and double-fisted them. “Now it’s my birthday.”

He beckoned Lena closer. A Chuck Berry song was playing, and two white kids started break-dancing to it. Their movements were so out of sync with the rhythm and mood of the song it made them seem more like they were on the verge of a medical crisis than people enjoying and responding to music.

“Lena, listen to me, your elder.” Charlie’s breath smelled like cheap liquor and fruit punch. “Dinosaur Lord is a defender of space and time. By day he’s a man. By night he’s a raptor who beats ass.”