“Hey, Zip,” Frankie said after school that day. “Can you meet in my apartment at four o’clock?”
“Why?” I asked him. “What are you going to do, throw me a party?”
“Have you forgotten, dude? I love chopped liver,” Frankie said.
“No, you don’t. As a matter of fact, last time we had it, you said it looks like the stuff that collects between your toes.”
“No, Zip. It’s your grandfather’s bowling team celebration on Monday. Remember? February 8. And we’re…”
“Oh right, doing magic. I forgot. What trick are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the biting the quarter in half trick. Or possibly pulling Cheerio out of my top hat. But I haven’t done that in a really long time, which is why we need to rehearse this afternoon.”
“Well, Frankie, I’m afraid you’re going to have to start without me. I’m going to be a little late. But you can pick up Cheerio. I don’t think he has a playdate.”
“Where are you going to be?”
“I got stuff to do.”
“Stuff, as in?”
“Balloons and hats. Cool party favors. That kind of stuff. I’d get you some, but oh right, you’re going to be in New Jersey.”
We had reached the corner of 78th and Amsterdam Avenue. To get to our apartment, Frankie was going to continue straight down 78th for another half a block. Me, I was planning to take a right up Amsterdam. I was heading for the 99-cent store. Now that I’m in the fifth grade, I’m allowed to walk home by myself because our apartment is only two blocks away. Technically, walking home doesn’t really include the 99-cent store, but the store is within the two-block limit, even though it’s in another direction. So I made the decision that I wasn’t really breaking the rules, I was just bending them a little. Well, I really wasn’t bending them, I was twisting them. Maybe not even a twist. Maybe a tweak. Yeah, I was tweaking the rules. Surely my parents couldn’t be angry about that. A bend I understand, but a tweak? Come on.
“So I’ll see you in a little while, then?” Frankie said.
“Whenever.”
“Not whenever, Zip. Get there as soon as you can. Or did you forget that you are my all-important assistant? If you don’t hand me the quarter, I can’t bite it in half.”
“Ashley can do it.”
“She’s our business manager, Hank. Between you and me, she doesn’t have your dramatic flare. You’re the best assistant a magician could ask for, dude.”
He must’ve felt really bad for flaking out on my party, because now he was really buttering me up. He used so much butter that I felt like I was sliding down the sidewalk.
Frankie headed home and I turned right up Amsterdam Avenue. I passed the Silver Star Café, where people were sitting sipping coffee in the window. I saw Mrs. Fink. She must have been stirring her coffee, because she waved to me with her spoon still in her hand. I wondered if she’d like to come to my party.
Hank, get ahold of yourself. She’d make you dance the cha-cha and eat her cherry strudel.
When I reached the 99-cent store, I went in and found the birthday party section. It was full of paper plates and cups and party hats and noisemakers and little bags of toys that would make fun party favors.
“May I help you?” a clerk said. She was a tall woman with a big smile and a pin that said her name. In case you’re interested, it was Vivian.
“Well, ma’am…”
“Call me Vivian, honey. Everyone does.”
“Well, Vivian, I’m throwing myself a birthday party, and I notice that all these supplies seem to be in packs of eight. My party is a little bit smaller than that.”
“How many are coming, honey?”
“I believe that would be one and a half.”
“A half?”
“I’m the one, and my tarantula is the half.”
“You’re inviting a spider to your party?”
“As a matter of fact, she’s the guest of honor. And pretty excited about it.”
“So none of your other friends are coming?”
“Funny you should ask. They’re actually going to be in New Jersey that day, so I figured, I can entertain myself and have a great party without them.”
“Good for you,” Vivian said, giving me a big smile. “You sound like a very independent and resourceful kid.”
Well, finally, here was someone who appreciated me.
“So, I couldn’t help but notice that you don’t seem to have any hats small enough to fit a large spider,” I said.
“To tell you the truth, you’re the first kid I’ve ever met who’s made that request,” Vivian said. “Let’s see what else you need.”
Vivian was really nice. We picked out a pack of blue party hats and a silver balloon. They were out of the Happy Birthday balloons, but I really wanted a silver one, so I picked one that said, “Get Well Soon.” Why not? Everyone wants to be well. The only other silver balloon they had said, “Welcome New Baby,” and you can understand why that one stayed in the store.
The good thing about having a party for one is that you can get a party favor you really want. None of those paddles with elastic string and bouncy rubber balls that break the first time you use them, sending the ball shooting across the room. No mini Rubik’s cube on a key chain. I once turned that thing for a month and never got even one color all solid. No little bags of jelly beans where once you throw out all the purple ones that taste like the way my mom’s perfume smells, you’re left with mostly banana-flavored ones, which are even worse because there’s nothing banana about them.
I picked the large-size whoopee cushion, which never fails to crack me up. And for Rosa, I picked a rubbery slimy spider that sticks when you throw it against the wall. Not only that, it glows in the dark. I thought she’d get a kick out of that.
When it came time to check out, Vivian was really, really nice. She gave me a twenty-percent discount.
“Anyone who throws himself his own birthday party deserves a gift,” she said. And the discount was her gift to me.
I have no idea how much twenty percent of five dollars and fifty-three cents is. But let me put it this way. I handed her a five-dollar bill and I got some change. I have no idea how much change I got back. I can’t do that kind of math in my head. But if you wait until I get home, I can let you know.
When I left the store, I was feeling pretty darn good.
The plans were in action. The supplies were bought. The guest list was short and sweet. And the only thing left to do was to party like a madman.