Happy Birthday!

The woman gave up ringing the bell and began pounding on the door. Finally the door opened a crack and a pair of dark eyes peered through the slit.

“Hello, I am Sheila Walker. I am here to interview Esther,” she looked down at her notes. “Yes, Esther King. Does she still live here?”

“Maybe.”

“I don't think you understand. I am from the county and I have been charged with interviewing Esther to determine if she should be moved to a full time care facility.”

“She's fine. Leave us alone.”

“You must have received the letters.” The door closed. “I am authorized to have police assistance if necessary.”

She could hear the chain sliding off and the bolts of the lock turning. The man threw the door open and invited her in with a flourish. The first thing she noticed was the smell.

In anticipation of her question, “the sewer, it backs up from time to time. You get use to it. Not much you can do. I, we light candles, those smelly kind and hardly notice it after awhile.”

“I see.” The living room was dark, lit only by several candles burning away furiously, spitting out the aromas of cherry pie, Christmas cookies and spring time lilac. From behind a closed door she could hear the mumbling of others as if they were at a party.

“You came at a bad time, we are entertaining.”

“Oh?”

“Really, this is a bad time. Maybe we can make an appointment and you could return. I would hate to disturb mother and her friends. This party means so much to her.”

“Who are you?”

“I am her only son, Anthony. Well that's not fair, my younger brother died in his crib. Suffocated in his pillow, poor guy,” he shook his head in sorrow, “poor little guy. They never had any other children.”

“And your father?”

“We are not at liberty to discuss my father.” He held his hand up and whispered, “the bastard skipped out when I was three, but if you say anything to mother I will deny that I said anything.”

Sheila smiled and whispered back, “your secret is safe with me. Curious, but my records indicate that your mother's birthday was four months ago.” She threw open the closed door revealing the kitchen decorated with balloons, streamers, party goers and a large Happy Birthday banner. She blacked out.

When she awoke the room was dark, a television played a video of a birthday party. She could barley make out people laughing and celebrating on the screen. The obnoxious smell was worse back here and she wondered how they could cook and eat meals in this kitchen.

As Sheila went to raise her hand she noticed she was tied to a chair. It seemed that all of the guests were tied to chairs. In the dim light of the television screen she could make out several people all dressed up, some with party hats and some with plastic leis around their necks. There were glasses of champagne and slices of cake in front of them. The video reached the part where those gathered sang happy birthday and then the screen went black and turned to video snow.

“Hey,” she yelled. “Hey Anthony, this isn't funny. Untie me now!”

“Mother and I are very happy with the way things are.”

“People will miss me soon.”

“Oh. I don't think so.”

“I have to call in, if I don't call in, the office will send the police.”

“I thought you might be more creative than that.”

“Anthony,” she began to fear for her life. “Anthony, where is your mother?”

“Upstairs.”

“I have to call in.”

“I have to call in,” Anthony impersonated her voice perfectly. “I did that for you. In fact you quit this afternoon. I told your supervisor, Kathy, such a nice woman. Did you know that she has bursitis? I, excuse me, you told her that you met the man of your dreams and you were off to paradise.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you talking about?”

“Me,” Anthony pointed to his chest.

“Anthony, I am not interested in a relationship. What I want, if you really care for me, what I want, is to be let go.”

“Oh, I don't care for you. I don't like you at all. Mother thinks that we would be the perfect couple. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Damn you! Let me go.” Sheila struggled and wiggled back and forth trying to free herself.

Someone slapped her on the back of the head. A raspy woman's voice broke the silence. “Shut up and stop trying to wriggle free. Anthony?”

“Yes, mother.”

“What did you do with her car?”

“No one will ever see that car again.”

“Good boy.”

Sheila began to weep. All she could think of was sixteen dollars an hour. I get paid sixteen dollars an hour to do this shit. “I think that I would like to leave now.”

The laughter was subtle at first, then mother and son began laughing so hard Sheila could finally distinguish that there was actually two of them.

“If you are not interested in becoming Anthony's bride, than you can just join the rest of the guests and wait. Wait until we find someone that wants to be married to my son.”

“How long will that be?”

“Who knows?” The old woman left the kitchen.

The silence was broken by the video of the birthday party starting again. In the light of the television screen she could make out the faces of the other birthday guests gathered around the table. Their faces drawn tight, wrinkled, sunken eyes, brown leathery skin, it was then that she realized that she was the only living person at the party. She started to scream and as she opened her mouth Anthony shoved a wadded up handkerchief down her throat muffling her cries.