All fingers and thumbs

No one showed up?

Not to boast or anything, but I am a very popular guy at my school and beyond. It’s not so much that I care or do a lot to accomplish popularity but I am. People find me a nice and friendly guy, which I think I am, and they like me for it.

As I am a poet and very busy on social media like Facebook and Twitter I have 500 followers, which is a lot in my book. I also have a lot of close friends at school, I am a lucky guy I guess.

This time I was in the library all afternoon and a girl caught my eye. She was tanned, with beautiful long black hair and a really nice face. I was watching her, wondering why I hadn’t noticed her before.

She looked kind of sad, which caught my attention.

So, when she left her books and stuff at the desk to leave for a short break to go to the toilet, I silently went over to her desk to figure out what’s she’d be doing, which books she was interested in, mainly to satisfy my curiosity.

There was an open journal on the table. It said: Today was my birthday. No one showed up.

I looked at it again, it shook me to the core.

I slowly found the first page of her journal that gave away her name and address: Joyce Birkensale, Road 1455, New Haven.

Because I saw her coming back and I didn’t want to intrude I quickly made myself scarce.

That evening I was still thinking about this mysterious girl in the library when suddenly I came up with a plan. Why not invite everybody I knew to give her a birthday party at her house? I had plenty of friends and followers on social media that could do the trick.

So I posted this message: Everybody, Joyce is having a birthday party at Road 1455, New Haven. Bring your own booze and birthday presents at 20.00 p.m.

I went early to see where she lived and I was glad to find out there was a good sized garden in front of the house if by any chance lots of people showed up there was plenty of room for them to hang out.

She was obviously a girl from a wealthy family, but with no friends at all, how sad.

At 7.55 the road became crowded. From everywhere people showed up, by foot or by car and parked near the house.

When they saw me standing in front of a tree near the mansion everybody waved and greeted me.

“Hey what’s up bro, who’s this girl..how old is she anyway?”
“Nice touch, we hope to have a lovely party…”

With two bottles of champagne and almost forty people behind me, I rang the doorbell, praying by God she was home.

When the door opened, I was yet again surprised by her looks, she was stunning.

She looked surprised.

“Hey there, Joyce,” I said with a blush on my face, “I am Ken and I brought some people over to celebrate your birthday. Hope you don’t mind?”

She looked at me with great surprise in her eyes, her face glowing.

Suddenly a woman's voice from the back of the house: “Who’s at the door, Joyce?”

She stuttered: “It’s ... It’s Ken, mother, he brought some friends over for my birthday.”

“That’s wonderful, dear, please let them in.”

I gestured to the people behind me and answered quickly to Joyce: “We are with too many, we will stay in your front garden. I brought some balloons, shall we put them on the bushes and hang them in the trees to brighten up the place?”

A big smile broke through and her face was even more lovely. “I would like to,” she said with a grin.

The next ten minutes we were busy decorating the place, while the guests sat onto the grass.

There was talking, chattering and laughter. Within minutes there was a lively party going on.

My friends Pete and Chris and Steve showed up with their instruments and soon there was music as well.

“How did you know?” Joyce asked me

“I saw your journal entry in the library,” I explained. “I couldn’t resist to throw you a party. Everybody should have one at their birthday. How old are you anyway?”

“Twenty-one,” she said with a soft smile.

“Well, Joyce, may this be the first of many to come,” I said in a jokingly manner, but I meant every word. She was lovely, and I wanted to know her better.

We set up a small table at the entrance of the garden, where people could put their presents. Soon there were stacks of books, dvds and bunches of flowers.

Joyce looked at it with tears in her eyes.

“I have only been here for three weeks,” she told me in a small voice. “We’ve moved here from Singapore. I had to leave all my friends behind because of my father’s work back in the States.”

"That must have been hard for you, you must have been lonely out here," I answered.

“It was, and yes, I am.” She responded. “But this is great. I love big parties. Tell me who your friends are, please?”

So, I introduced her to the rest of the gang.

Everybody had a good time and a few hours later I saw Joyce had made a lot of new friends.

“Come and sit with me for a while, I insisted. I want to know you better."

For the next hour, we talked to each other while the moon was hovering over us in the big black sky.

I was feeling wonderfully excited about this girl, and I made a promise to myself to keep an eye on her from now on.

It was the beginning of a new found love that lasted. That next year she and I were on holiday at her birthday. We visited some of her friends in Singapore.

After that, we stayed together and she never had a lonely birthday ever again.

WC: 1020

House of B & W: #39. An open journal sits on the desk... Today was my birthday. No one showed up.