Can’t it wait until after this damn party?
Yeah, but make it soon okay? I’m getting sick of Depressed Otter.
You really think it’ll make that big of a difference?
I think it will. I think you need it too.
What do you mean? I had asked, slightly annoyed.
You might be the only one Otter will listen to, but I know for a fact he’s the only one you listen to.
I hadn’t asked him to elaborate.
So there I stood, waving my arms frantically, wondering why in the hell I had seen fit to invite so many children, being absolutely sure one of them had spilled the beans. I heard Anna and the Kid walking up the front path to the door. I heard Ty preaching to Anna about something, and I ran, trying to find a spot to hunker down. I was running past when a hand reached out and snatched mine, pulling me down. Otter almost pulled me down in his lap.
“Oof,” I grunted.
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.
He didn’t let go of my arm, and I only had two seconds to wonder when his hands had gotten so big when the door opened and the house erupted in screaming and chaos. I jumped up, shouting incoherent babble, and noticed the exact second when Otter’s arm left mine, and he roared next to me.
Have you ever had that many people yell at you at one time? No?
It’s loud.
I saw Ty and Anna both reel back, and she told me later it was like hearing a sonic boom pass overhead when you’re least expecting it. Ty almost leapt from his skin, and I knew we’d pulled it off when he went slack-jawed and stared out at everyone. Creed rushed forward and threw him up in the air. Even in mid-throw, I could see him looking around for me, so I went and stood next to Creed, who set him down. The Kid put his hand on the exact spot where Otter had. He tugged at my arm and pulled me down to whisper in my ear above the noise.
“Bear,” he said, “is this all for me?”
I ruffled his hair and said, “You bet your ass it is.”
Then he grinned, and the past four months of scrimping every cent I could was worth it.
WE’RE sitting in the backyard, kids all spread across the grass, watching the Amazing What’s-His-Name pull a rabbit out of his top hat. The kids shriek with laughter, and the parents clap politely, and Creed leans over and hisses, “How is this better than a clown?”
“At least I won’t have to count all the children when he leaves to make sure he didn’t take one with him,” I hiss back.
He looks at me incredulously. “Did you not see the van he rolled up in? And that fake mustache he’s wearing? For God’s sake, Bear, you should probably count regardless.” I punch him in the arm.
The magician takes a bow and promises to be back in a little bit. The kids disperse, and my Kid comes running up to me and launches himself into my arms, talking about a billion things at once. He then wiggles out of my arms and runs with some boys from his class to a jumping castle that Creed had randomly rented. I told him I would pay him back for it. He told me to shut the fuck up.
Anna appears at my arm. “Hey,” I say, putting my arm around her shoulders.
“Hey, yourself,” she says back. “I can’t believe you really pulled this
off.”
I snort. “You mean we pulled this off.”
She looks over at Ty, who is bouncing off the walls of the castle. “Did you see the look on his face? I thought he was going to pass out.” We all laugh as Ty attempts to do a somersault and fails miserably. “I’ve never seen him like this before,” she says.
I know what she means. Since the party started, he had been running up and down the backyard, a state of perpetual ecstasy etched across his face. He had come up to me every now and then, but only to tell me about what he’d just done before taking off in the opposite direction. He hadn’t been at my side for more than a few seconds. I grin as I feel kind of sad at this.
“It’s been a while,” I say.
Creed chokes on his drink next to me. I look over as he points to Otter, who is surrounded by kids, all who seem to be trying to climb up on him at once. We can hear him yelling from where we stand as he collapses under a sea of tiny ankles.
“It’s too bad,” Anna says.