text: “Rawr! I'm a tiger!” the little girl squealed, chasing her playmates around the large suburban backyard. The face paint, or rather warpaint, on her nose and cheeks shone those familiar orange, white and black stripes with whiskers. “Roaarrr!” the six-year-old giggled as she gently smacked one of her friends on the back. “Not so hard, Kaley,” her mother scolded the birthday girl. “She’s fine,” her dad said, bringing out the cups and plasticware from the kitchen. “They’re just playing around, babe.” A soft kiss on warm cheek. One of the mother’s hairs stuck to his lips. “I just don’t want her to get it in her head that it’s okay to hit people.” “I hear ya. But I don’t think that qualifies as hitting. They’re basically playing tag.” He put the cups and spoons down, then began spreading them out over the large picnic table. “You did a great job on the face paint,” the mom said, setting out the paper plates for the cake. “What can I say? I'm a true artist at heart.” “Uh-huh. Sure thing, Mr. Artist.” A giggle. Kaley roared her triumphant roar, much to the delight of her friends. Their faces held similar markings of rabbits, mice, cats, and even a turtle--nothing capable of withstanding a tiger, however. So, they ran. Kaley’s favorite stuffed animal, a little monkey in tan shorts and white t-shirt, dangled with its arms wrapped around her waist using a hook and loop grip. “Raawwrrr!” “I got juice for you guys if you get thirsty!” Dad called out, half-filling cups with orange, apple and grape juice. “My mommy says you should smoothie juice, not squeeze it,” the mouse yelled, running circles around the playset. “And your ‘mommy’ also believes rocks cure IBS...” Dad muttered under his breath. “Shush. And its crystals, duh.” Mom poked him in the ribs with a playful grin. “Ow, who’s being violent now?” he snickered, planting another kiss on her cheek. That was when Mom paused for a brief moment. “Oh, I put down ten plates. We only need nine. Silly me.” Dad looked at her with soft eyes. “Yeah, just nine, babe. But might want to leave out extras in case they want more cake and destroy their plates.” “Like they always do, heheh.” “Little monsters.” “Mommy, Daddy!” Kaley yelled out from behind the slide. “When do we get cake? I want cake!” “In a bit, baby. Your Mom and I still have to set up the table. Quick, one of the rabbits is getting away!” Dad pointed to the little boy who was attempting to hide behind the outdoor toy bin. “Rarrr!!” Kaley exposed her teeth and held up her claws, stalking over to the unsuspecting rabbit. More happy squeals. Tiger and rabbit came running from around the bin, joyous laughter abound. “Should we wait for the ice cream when I come out with the cake, or you want me to bring it out now?” Dad asked his wife, scratching his head as he looked over the large table they bought for this specific purpose. “We got plenty of room for all the boogers, at least.” “Guess we can wait. Pretty warm out here, don’t want it melting. Not sure if I should’ve bought it in the first place. Think that cake is enough sugar to last a lifetime.” “Every once in a while won't hurt. Besides, we get the benefit of the sugar crash, leaving sweet silence for all to enjoy,” Dad grinned maliciously. “Oh god. Leave it to you to drug all the kids.” “Just doing my job ma’am; just doing my job. Okay, I'm gonna go put the candles on the cake. Would you gather up all the barn animals, please?” “Not sure tigers are barn animals.” “Fair enough.” He squeezed her hips before heading back into the kitchen. “Okay everybody!” Mom yelled to the bundles of perpetual energy. “Come and sit down for cake. Yay!” A bout of merry shouts erupted amongst the young animals as they herded to the table. But suddenly Kaley stopped running and stood in place, a look of confusion on her whiskered face. “Mommy?” “Yes sweety?” Mom replied, now placing napkins at each plate. “Where’s my pony?” “Your what?” “My pony.” Her eyes stared at the ground. One of the mice was holding her hand, trying to coax her along. “What pony, honey?” “My pink pony.” Mom froze again, holding napkin in hand over the table. “Sweety--you don’t like ponies.” Kaley stayed focused on the ground, unblinking, before blurting out a hearty, “Oh!” Then she giggled and ran to her spot at the head of the table. Mom sniffed, and finished placing the napkins down at each seat. Then came that familiar orange hue from inside the shadows of their home. It illuminated the bearded face of Dad, who was now wearing a sparkly blue party hat. “Happy birthday to you...” and the rest joined in, each with their own party hat and horn. Kaley’s smile was wide and bubbly. Her eyes growing bright at the six candles melting before them. Then, when the song’s climax dissipated, she closed them, making her wish before blowing out the candles in a triumphant gust of breath. Dad pursed his lips a bit upon seeing the spittle accompanying said breath. “All right, good job kiddo!” he clapped with the others. The party horns danced and filled the warm evening air with their wailing. Then the cutting of the cake commenced. Naturally, the birthday girl received the first slice. But upon seeing the dark cake, she became confused. “Why is it chocolate? I don’t like chocolate! Yuck!” Kaley screamed, pushing her plate away. “Huh? Honey, chocolate is your favorite. It’s always been your favorite.” Dad continued cutting pieces for the other kids. “No! I want white cake!” “Sweety,” Mom joined in, “you’ve always liked chocolate. Last year we had chocolate too.” “No, last year we had white cake! I want white cake!” “Well,” Dad spoke to Mom now, “we did have white cake last year too.” “I know,” Mom replied. “But she didn’t eat the white, only the chocolate like she always does. The white was for...” “I know, babe. I know.” Dad scooped some ice cream onto a plate. “You just want ice cream then, hun?” When he turned back to Kaley, she was already scarfing down the chocolate cake with big smiles and damp eyes. “I want ice cream!” “Uh, okay. Here you go, kiddo.” Dad plopped the ice cream down on her plate. The cake crumbs latched onto it like ants to honey. Dad leaned over to Mom. “Crisis averted.” The rest of the kids got their share, and soon the table was filled with a bunch of messy faces and hands covered in smears of chocolate frosting and various flavors of ice cream. “Funny thing happened earlier too. When you were inside,” Mom said, resting her chin on her knuckles. “She asked for her pink pony.” “Really? She hates pink.” “And she never cared for ponies either.” “Oh man. Could it be...” “I think so. This is the first birthday party since then.” Mom’s eyes began welling up a bit. She had to turn from the children, not wanting to frighten them. “It’s okay babe. You can go inside for a bit. I’ll take over here.” “No, I'm fine. It’s just...all those memories come rushing back at times, ya know?” “Yeah, I get that too sometimes.” The couple stood there quietly for a moment, reminiscing of days past. But then a splatter of ice cream landed at Dad’s feet. He looked up to see Kaley using her spoon as a catapult, sending chunks of ice cream across the table. “Rawr!” “Oh god,” he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Kaley, don’t--” “Come on now, babe. Let her have some fun. It’s her birthday. Here...” Dad picked up his own scoop of ice cream and catapulted it at his daughter. It landed directly on her shirt, bringing involuntary laughter from the birthday girl. “Have at thee!” “Oh geeze. Look at the mess!” Mom couldn’t help but laugh, despite squeezing her forehead with her hand. “It’s fine, babe. I’ll just hose them off later, heh.” Another spoonful flew across the table, hitting turtle boy in the cheek. “Oh! Hahaha!” the green-faced tike laughed as well, picking up a small handful of cake and throwing it at rabbit girl. Chaos ensued. Cake and ice cream became instruments of war. The battlefield a deluge of sugared flour, iced dairy and fruit nectar; a massacre of just desserts. The carnage of treats left those involved in a stupor, succumbing to the inevitable energy crash. “Okay guys, why don’t we get you all cleaned up.” Dad began piling the paper plates and napkins in the middle of the table. The exhausted kids, veterans of the Battle of Sweets, slowly began wiping themselves clean to the best of their abilities. The giggling never stopped. “Whoa. Good thing I told your parents to dress you in something they wouldn’t mind getting dirty. Look at you guys!” Some of the kids headed to the playset, attempting to have more fun with what little energy they had. Some stayed to help with the cleaning, much to Mom and Dad’s praise. Kaley was one such helper, despite the party being for her. “Honey, you can go play if you want,” Mom patted her on the head as she emptied some of the remaining drink cups. “I’ll help you, Mommy.” Kaley picked the napkins off the backyard lawn. Ice cream and cake littered the area, but nothing they couldn’t handle. “Worth it,” Dad said, nudging Kaley with an elbow. “Uh-huh,” she giggled, tossing a bunch of soiled napkins on the table pile. “I bet Kaley liked the chocolate cake. I don’t like it.” This time, it was Dad who froze. “But baby, you’re Kaley.” “Huh?” “You’re Kaley.” “Yes. My name is Kaley. Kaley! Kaley!” she hopped up and down, licking her fingers after dipping them in the leftover massacred chocolate cake. “I...okay, baby. That’s right. You’re Kaley.” “Kaley! Kaley!” she ran off and joined her playmates, leaving the remainder of the cleaning to Mom and Dad. Dad simply shook his head before grabbing all the corners of the disposable tablecloth and tying them in the middle. The colorful sack of paper plates, half-melted ice cream and crushed cake swung over his shoulder as he headed to the trash bin on the side of the house. At that point, Mom was sitting on one of the patio chairs, observing the little miscreants running rampant. “How you guys get all that energy, I’ll never know.” The doorbell could be heard from inside the house. “I got it, babe!” Dad called out from the side. In less than a minute, he walked into the backyard with one of the kids’ mothers in tow. “Mommy!” it was one of the mouse girls. She ran up, hugging her mother who hoisted her up to her chest. “Hi hun. It’s getting late, so we have to go home now, okay?” her mother said, patting her on the back. “Aw, okay.” The mouse girl waved to her friends. “Bye Kaley! Happy Birthday!” “Bye bye!” Kaley yelled back from atop the playset. “They got pretty hammered on cake and ice cream. They crashed a little but then bounced back,” Dad chuckled, rustling mouse girl’s hair. “Nature’s little wonders,” the girl’s mother quipped. “Okay guys, thanks for having her. I’ll see you at the park tomorrow?” “For sure. Take care, drive safe.” “Have a good night,” Mom waved goodbye to child and parent, just before another ring of the doorbell echoed from inside the house. Over the next hour, all of the visiting children were gone, leaving Kaley alone with her parents. The three of them were still in the backyard, Mom and Dad cleaning, with Kaley exerting the rest of her energy on the playset. Mom was picking up the leftover confetti strewn across the lawn, when she noticed Kaley sitting at the top the slide, staring down it with a blank look on her face. “Honey? You okay?” Mom asked. No reply. Only unblinking eyes focused on the bottom of the slide. “Sweety?” Dad took notice as well, dumping the used party hats and horns in a plastic bag. “Baby, your mom’s calling you. Kaley?” No answer. Both parents walked up to her, Dad placing his arm around Mom’s waist. She was trembling slightly. “Kaley, are you alright?” she asked once more. Without looking away from the slide, Kaley mumbled, “Where’s Kaley?” Mom and Dad’s hearts careened into a pool of sorrow. “Sweety. You’re Kaley. Remember?” That familiar salty liquid welled up in Mom’s eyes. Dad held her close, sniffing back his own tears. “No, I'm Anna,” Kaley still didn’t look up. “Kaley was supposed to be here. That’s why we had the chocolate cake. But I don’t remember having any white cake...” “Oh god,” Dad held his hand to his mouth, no longer able to hold back as salty streams burned down his cheeks. “Okay baby. Come on down. Let’s go inside.” Kaley nodded and pushed off, hurtling down the slide. She walked to them; her eyes still focused on the ground. Dad held out his hand. She took it, and the three of them walked back to the house, leaving the rest of the cleanup for later. Once inside, Mom washed the paint off Kaley’s face in the bathtub. The birthday girl didn’t say much, only occasionally asking where Kaley was. By the time Dad laid her in bed, the sun was down and she was fast asleep. Mom and Dad continued their evening ritual in silence. Late snack, shower, teeth brushing and a kiss goodnight. But this time, as they laid in bed, Dad turned on the TV and inserted that flash drive they kept so dear, yet rarely touched. Up popped the image of a birthday party. And there on screen was Kaley, grasping her little stuffed monkey in a death grip. This time, her cake read, ‘Kaley 5.’ She was all smiles and wonder. And next to her sat another girl, holding a pink pony with a cake in front of her that read, ‘Anna 5.’ They were identical, the two girls. With the exception of the one holding the pony having much paler skin, and she was thinner with various bruises up and down her arms. They were laughing and screeching at the day’s festivities. The t-shirt and pajama top Mom and Dad wore became soaked with tears. They held each other close, ever so tightly as if letting go would send them both plummeting into a dark cavern of despair. The laughter from their little girls filled the dimly lit room, bouncing off the walls like trills of joyous ghosts. They squeezed each other tighter, trying to constrict the sobs. But no amount of strength could choke out the pain. Then they head a voice at their bedroom door. Little did they know that Kaley had opened it and now stood there, rubbing her eyes, stuffed monkey in hand. “Mommy? Daddy? I heard Anna.” “Oh,” Dad cleared his throat, immediately fumbling with the remote to the TV. “Wait,” Mom put a hand on his. “Let her watch. Come here sweety.” Mom opened her arms and Kaley rushed over, climbing onto the big bed and nestling between them. “You sure?” Dad asked, his reddened eyes darting back and forth between the woman and child he loved. “Yeah. I think it’ll be fine. She should see her. We all should see her--together.” Dad nodded, a teary smile creeping up his face. The click of the remote sent a shiver through his body. But that subsided when he heard the laughter of his two little girls. Kaley’s eyes glued to the scene. Shining bright in the light of the TV. She held onto her monkey, gently biting the top of its head. But no tears came forth. No sobs or even sniffles. Unblinking, she simply stared at the footage, squeezing her stuffed animal harder and harder. “Are you okay sweety?” Mom asked, not sure if she had made the right decision. But after a few seconds, Kaley answered. “Yeah. I just miss Anna.” Nothing else was said. She simply laid her head on Dad’s arm and slowly drifted back to sleep to the sounds of her and her sister’s laughter. “We do too, sweet thing. We do too.” Dad brushed her hair with his hand and leaned his head against Mom’s. The three of them sat there in each other’s warm embrace. Never forgetting, but never relenting. Three pillars standing strong in a sea of torment. No matter how many waves came crashing onto their stony faces, they need only lean against each other. What better way to weather the storm?