Positively Negative [Rewrite]

Nov08: Three Little Birds, Don't Worry

JOEY

Happy Birthday.

It hadn't really been one of those when I'd woken up, but it had been the first thing I saw. Heard. Mum was singing it to rouse me, and when my eyes struggled open, I saw she'd been holding—and begun waving—one of those cheap, garish banners, a crude silver colour with the boldly capitalised thirteen letters.

Happy birthday.

I offered mum a smile anyway as I pushed myself up blearily. She let the banner fall onto me and chuckled as I smacked it away, wrapping her weary robe tighter around herself as she pulled an envelope out of one of its pockets and presented it to me.

"How do you feel?"

"Like a troll," I mumbled thickly through the punctured lip that seemed to have swollen three times larger than it had been the day before. Boy, must I have looked attractive. I took the proffered birthday card from her grudgingly and subtly weighed it for its possible contents as my mother laughed (and, noticing, all the more) then settled beside me, and I felt her automatically begin to smooth the sheets. Her smile grew fonder as her head tilted, and the hair that had been pulled into a loose pony-tail followed the movement. I squeezed when her hand came to find mine, and she winked mischievously.

"So, not far from how you look, then."

"Ouch. That hurt more than the one on my hip, I teased, and her expression turned a little sour with concern.

"I hate that whoever the idiot was did this to you the day before your birthday." And that was where it all began to go a little down hill. Because Freddie hadn't been the idiot. The idiot was all me. Mum hummed playfully, misunderstanding my silence. "Don't worry, Joe. We can figure out ways to make the ugly go away."

"Yeah," I smiled. "I'm going to open it now." She nodded me on, so I slit the envelope open and gently pulled out the card.

'You're a big boy, now, but you look so small' was printed in blue, letters, the word 'big' unsurprisingly big, and the word 'small' just so. The images reminded me of the Cyanide and Happiness comics, with a rectangular and very bald boy on one side looking up at a similarly drawn woman (though with what, I supposed, was hair), apparently his mother, sitting on a heart labelled: my love for you. It was stupid, and cute, and it made a corner of my lips curve upwards without my consent.

"You like it?"

"I do."

"Cute, right?"

"It is."

I opened up. Happy Birthday, son.

Mum's message said everything it did every year. Something along the lines of how much she loved me, another about how proud she was. She would always tell me how she hoped I had a wonderful day, and how she wished I'd continue to grow into the beautiful boy I was becoming (even though I'd already complained several times about her use of that adjective - and the noun, but she'd always replied with something about alliteration and how boys deserved to be called beautiful just as much as girls did, whatever). Then she'd sign off; Burning love, from dad and mum, tiny little picture of Stitch, from the Disney movies, and a guitar beside it.

My friends all tended to find it odd that she did that, considering how my father, having been a fireman, died in a burning building. As if it was mocking that fact, or something. But I'd never seen it like that. When my dad had died I'd been seven years old. I was pretty upset about it, but I hadn't seen him all that often because of his job. I think I was mostly cut up about the fact that I'd never be taken to see his big, red fire trucks anymore, though, in all fairness, seeing them had been so special because he was the one showing the amazing vehicles to me, and they were where he'd been all the time he couldn't be home. Thus, to a six/seven year old me, it was tolerable.

Anyway, soon after I was introduced to Lilo & Stitch, and I became obsessed with it. When mum and I watched it in the cinema for the first time, I remember being completely enthralled. Its probably impossible for a kid to love something more than I did that Hawaiian girl and her epic blue alien. Still love it. Not going to lie. But as I was falling deeper and deeper in love with the film, the Burning Love montage came on at the end.

Mum started crying.

I didn't notice at first, or take the shaking of her shoulders to mean something negative anyway. But there came a point where her cries were aloud, and the crowd swivelled their eyes, and she left the cinema. So I did too.

Turned out it had been his favourite song, and they'd played it at their wedding. Not their first dance song, but a close second. We left the cinema –though she did tell me we'd definitely come see it again, so I had no reason to complain- and we watched the wedding video. Loved the idea of weddings since then too.

And when we went back to watch Lilo and Stitch and the scene came to the screen again, well I saw my mother and my father. And I saw them dancing, and laughing, with cake and cutting, eyes open and shutting to kiss with such longing, and I saw, what I deemed to be, "Burning Love". Very different to Lilo and Stitch's, but I loved it all the same. And just as I'd wanted to be part of it—part Lilo and Stitch's world, I wanted to be in the world of my parents to. A world that burned with love.

Well.

Fuck; that was gay.

I replied that way I always did, moaning, "I'm not beautiful."

"Joey, did you even learn alliteration in school? You really don't appreciate it as much as you should. And, you know, boys should be called beautiful just as much as girls. Can do a heck of a lot for the self-esteem."

Ah, yes. And she often said something or other about self-esteem.

"Ready to come down? Or breakfast in bed is available today of all days if you're feeling too rough."

I shook my head. The action usually chased away thoughts that taste a little sour or memories I'd rather not remember, but this time the memory of Freddie's face and the thought - the knowledge - that I'd said something about his ill father floated in instead.

[Date: November 8th Word Count: 10,181 Target: 13,333. Not reached. I literally had the worst day on earth, but it was okay because I finally got all this written. Whoops.]