Chapter Two

A Birthday Party

Als scrubbed a third round of shampoo into her scalp and tilted her head back beneath the spray. When all the suds were rinsed out and the hair squeaked beneath her fingers, she lifted a sopping lock and sniffed it. Alas, even after three furious washings the smell of Italian seasoning and tomato still lingered. Als sighed and turned off the waters anyways: she had more pressing problems.

No parent likes to discover their child has been out defending the world without adult supervision. Als had tried to conceal her early morning exploits, not wanting to worry her parents, but no sooner had she snuck back into her room than Mom was in the doorway wearing a housecoat and a puzzled frown.

"Alysse," she said, the very picture of calm," where have you been, and why do I smell basil and garlic?" Her eyebrows began to twitch in motherly exasperation. "And why is there a trail of tomato pulp on my nice clean carpet?"

Dad joined them, still blinking sleep from his eyes, as Als tried to explain that it had been a mission of "vital importance to the continued liberty and existence of human kind, and probably animal and plant kind too!" They were not impressed.

In most instances, as you will doubtless agree, children are much more imaginative than adults. However, while very few parents are frightened of monsters in their closets, there is no one more creative, more imaginative than a parent envisioning all the horrible things which might possibly happen to their child.

Als had known that her parents would be hysterical, and believed it would be better for all of them if she just let them work it out of their system. She stood quietly and listened to an ever more outlandish list of scenarios. It began with the obvious "bad men could get you" and "what if you had fallen and broken a leg," continued on through the "sudden earthquake or terrorist attack," before finishing with "asteroid strike" and "mutant-carnivorous-kid-eating-plants."

At the end, Mom was almost in tears and Dad's mouth was set in a hard thin line. Als felt as small as a speck of dust and wished that she could disappear. Next would come the punishment, which she knew would be equal to the fright she had given her parents.

"No television and no computer," said Dad.

"Clean the entire upstairs and downstairs bathrooms," Mom added," and if you can't find something useful to do after that, I have plenty of walls for you to wash."

"You can also do the dishes for a week," continued Dad," and your laundry."

"We're punishing you so that next time you'll think twice before going off by yourself," Mom said. Large tears glistened in her eyes. "We don't want to lose you."

That might have been true, but it did not make Als feel any better. She no longer felt quite so lucky for surviving the meatloaf. "Nothing happened," she thought, frowning in resentment. "I was almost killed, but a miss is as good as a mile."

"However," Dad put in," if you behave yourself, we'll let you go to Kristen's birthday party next Saturday."

The universe, which had been whirling on it's happy way, jerked to a complete and total hard stop. Als had completely forgotten about Kristen's birthday. The panic must have shown on her face because her parents finally released her to the showers.

"What do I wear?" Als wailed silently as she grabbed a towel. "What if I'm late? What if I spit cake all over the other guests? What if I offend someone? What do I get her!?"

This last one was the real question because, while Als had been known to occasionally spray cake crumbs or spill tea all over someone's best party dress or blurt out something she shouldn't, it was the present that made or broke a party.

"For Kristen," Als thought," no cheap little bauble will do. It must be exciting! Spectacular! Something she will always treasure! Something she will never forget!"

While she dressed, Als fretted about what to get, proposing and rejecting idea after idea. Finally, frustrated and still smelling faintly of tomatoes, she picked up her sauce stained clothes and headed back to her room. There, while gathering up her laundry, she explained the problem to Rezul.

"'Something she'll never forget,' hm?" He stroked his chin thoughtfully, leaning up against the bed. Als noted with a twinge of resentment that he certainly appeared none the worse for the meatloaf, with not a speck of tomato on his armor-like skin. "I have heard that elephants never forget."

Als shot him a pointed glare. "Kristen is not an elephant," she said in a tone which broached no disagreement. "She does not look like an elephant at all." This was very important for him to understand.

"You're missing the point entirely," Rezul said, waving a dismissive hand. "In any case, we must take care of these chores first. Since it is, perhaps, partly my fault, I shall help you."

Als did not think he would help her, and not for lack of trying. In fact, she spent so much time keeping Rezul from being too helpful, (particularly while dish doing, as he had some very strange ideas about the aerial capabilities of bowls), that the looming problem of the gift was pushed aside and forgotten until Als woke early Saturday morning.

Strangely, she remembered very little of that morning. There was just a cataclysmic surge of panic, and then the vague impression of running and the inside of some store. She found herself at the end of Kristen's flower lined walk, blinking in the afternoon sunlight with little memory of having gotten out of bed or gotten dressed. Rezul pushed a box wrapped in pink and silver tissue paper into her hands.

"It will be alright," he was saying in a soothing voice. He produced a think pink envelope and added it atop the box. "Everything has been taken care of, so just go on and try to enjoy yourself."

Like many an ultimately fatal action, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Since it was also the only idea, Als accepted the present and allowed Rezul to give her a little push up the walk.

It occurred to Als as she approached the front door, over which hung a banner proclaiming "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" in foot high multi-color letters, that she did not know what was in the present. She held it up in front of her, turning it this way and that. Where had it come from? She shook it, but it made no threatening noises. A quick sniff revealed nothing but a faintly pleasant smell. Als continued to regard it with what, in her mind, was a judicious degree suspicion. What could an alien, who also happened to be a guy, possibly know about what girls wanted?

Als contemplated dumping the present behind some bushes, but reconsidered as she pictured the ultimate embarrassment of arriving giftless to a birthday party. The only other option was to run, but Kristen had already seen her out the window. The birthday girl rushed out the door to give her a huge, and then it was too late.

"I'm so glad you could come!" Kristen exclaimed, and hugged Als again before pulling her inside.

Kristen, who Als knew would grow up to be a Nobel winning doctor or an actress on Broadway, always had the best parties. Last year it had been horse themed, with models for them to pain and cake shaped like a Lipizzaner preforming a capriole. The year before that, they had gone camping in the woods behind her house, and it had been puppies the year before that. This year, it was a tea party, and the house smelled like English Breakfast and scones.

Clearly the Frenely's had spent all morning decorating. The house was festooned with pink and white streamers and balloons. The dining room table was set with lace, silver, and china. A large vase of red roses at on the table and a smaller one on the wide window sill behind it.

"Presents over here," said Kristen's mother, lifting the box from Als's nervous fingers and setting it among piles of colorfully wrapped gifts festooned with yards of curling ribbon and enormous bows. "There are cucumber sandwiches and tea in the kitchen, dear, with the other girls. You're the last guest, so we will be starting the scavenger hunt soon."

"Thank you, Mrs. Frenely," said Als politely. She spared a last look for the present, now hopelessly lost among all the others.

"You're welcome, Alysse. You look very nice today." She smiled and touched Als's skirt. "This shade of green brings out the red in your hair."

"Oh, thank you!"Als looked down at herself as she followed Kristen to the kitchen, surprised to be wearing such a nice blouse, lovely flounced skirt, and shoes which, (she was disgusted to admit), were adorable. She had no memory of picking this outfit, though she recognized the clothes as some of those her mother had bought in an attempt to tempt Als into becoming more "lady like."

Als had not succumbed, but not it appeared that girlyness had been foisted upon her. Probably by her mother, and with the help of hypnosis, as Rezul had developed a clothes-phobia. (Not that Als could blame him. If she had been stuffed in a small space with dozens of shirts and skirts and dresses and pants, she would not like them very much either. He had refused to help her with the laundry.)

In the kitchen, the crowd of chattering, giggling girls all dressed in pretty blouses and swishy skirts turned to greet them. The way the other guests oohed and ahhed over her skirt and exclaimed over her green velvet slip-ons almost made up for being foisted upon. All the attention, however, was only a momentary distraction. The mystery gift was a much bigger problem and the more Als thought about, the more uneasy she became.

Mrs. Frenely split them up into teams of three before handing out lists and bags for the items. One of the first items listed was a four-leaf clover, and they headed outside.

While Kristen and the other girl on their team searched through a dense patch of clover, Als looked around for Rezul. Her imaginary friend was nowhere to be found. In her view, this was ridiculous: if he was a figment of her imagination, he ought to have the decency to appear when she needed him. She found a clover with four leaves instead, and the team moved on to the next item.

Back inside, Als's gift anxiety continued to grow. Through Pin-the-Petal-on-the-Rose, she tried to imagine what Rezul could have possible put in that box. Charades and a few rounds of Old Maid passed in a blur as Als started to think, with a sinking stomach, that whatever was in the present might be dangerous.

All too soon, it was time to open presents. Sitting with the rest of the guests as Kristen began unwrapping presents and reading cards, Als began to wish she had followed her gut instinct and thrown the present in the bushes. Arriving presentless to a party, no matter utterly humiliating, would be easer to explain than whatever was beneath that seemingly innocent silver and pink tissue paper. Als hoped that "it" was not terribly dangerous, and would not maim her best friend too badly.

"Should I open yours next, Als?" Kristen asked, picking up the box.

Als hesitated as everyone turned to look at her. "Um," she said," if you'd like." She cringed, expecting an explosion or a scream or even an eerie gurgle as the wrapping came off.

"Oh!" Kristen exclaimed. "It's the white jasmine tea! Mom looked everywhere for it! Als, where did you find it?" She lifted out the container. "But, why is it shaped like an elephant?"

"Because everybody likes elephants!" Als said quickly, feeling light-headed with relief.

Kristen nodded sagely. "Yes," she agreed.

Als let out a quiet sigh as Kristen set the tea aside. Perhaps she had been too hard on Rezul, who was not really that bad. A little crazy sometimes, but who wasn't?

"Can I read the card aloud?" Kristen was asking. "Thought, it looks more like a letter."

Als felt relieve enough to agree to anything.

"'Dear Kristen,'" the birthday girl read," 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY!'" That was nice enough, Als approved. Simple and to the point. "'Rezul here.'"

Als almost swallowed her tongue and turned such a violent shade of red that Mrs. Frenely looked at her with concern. Kristen, however, continued reading.

"'Due to certain events, which I shall shortly relate to you, it has fallen to me to wish you a most happy birthday. I take up my duty gladly and hitherto say from the very depths of my soul, have the amazing, fantastic, wonderful and unforgettable birthday you deserve as the most kind, most gentle, most brave, and most glorious of all Kristens! May it be filled with laughter, rainbows, and cute little puppies, or else a fat hamster or two. I say it thrice again: HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

"'But now, fair Kristen, I must relate grave happenings and pray that you shall forgive me for casting a shadow over these rightfully joyful proceedings. This very morning, I received confirmation of the dire condition which I had come to suspect afflicts our mutually beloved Als.

"'She woke this morning at precisely four fifty-two and sat bolt upright in bed screaming about pachyderms. Before I could stop her, she leapt from the bed, race from the room, down the stairs and out the front door. She did this in her pajamas, and without opening the door first. After patching the hole I, the ever devoted imaginary friend and compassionate citizen unwilling to release Als upon society in her deranged state, quickly gave chase.

"'For hours under a hot sun and across many grueling, mini-van infested miles the pursuit led on. Exhausted, sweating from the exertion, still I forged ahead. Nothing could keep me from aiding my dearly distressed friend! At long last, just as I had begun to wish I had brought along a snack, I found her. She was hiding under an SUV, gibbering as she wrapped cold french fries in newspaper.

"'The trials of an imaginary friend, wise Kristen, are terrible indeed.

"'I attempted to explain that, though I was merely a humble figment, I did not believe that cold french fries would be an appropriate token of her affections. Als did not want to listen and so, in the end, I was forced to drag her out. It was quite embarrassing, Kristen. Als is almost grown up, and she really ought to know better. After restraining her properly, I went in search of a suitable gift. It is a humble offering, I know, but no thing could possibly return in itself the magnificence of your friendship.

"'As I write this note Als's desk, she is happily chatting away to some invisible person. I fear for her sanity. Something must be done, courageous Kristen. I fear this ailment is beyond any aid I can render. However, I am confident that with your help, Als is not yet beyond our reach. I shall be in touch and, in the mean time, enjoy your birthday!!

"It's signed: 'Hope insanity isn't contagious, Rezul.'"

Als forced a sheepish smile while the rest of the guests laughed, but it hurt. Kristen got up and came to give her a hug. "Thank you, Als," she said, and then dropped her voice to a whisper. "Please thank Rezul for me too, and tell him he can email any time he wants."

"I will," Als said, giving her friend a squeeze. She would certainly tell Rezul many things.

As Kristen moved back to the couch and the still huge pile of presents, one of the other guests leaned over to Als. "That was really funny," she giggled. "You're so imaginative."

"Thank you."

The girl did not seem to notice Als's clenched teeth. "'Rezul' is such a strange name. Where did you come up with it?"

"Oh, it's. . . Polish."