Write about a character discovering something new about their

past that changes how they remember an important moment.

My 12^th Birthday Anniversary

I was on a Saturday, some thirty plus years ago. I was turning twelve and the excitement was fever-pitch. And your birthday takes an extra dimension when it falls on a weekend when no one has some work-related excuses not to spoil you. As I opened my eyes that morning, I knew it was going to be a blast. I was the star of the day. I also knew my parents were going to surprise me – they had done so on most of my anniversaries in the past. Once, however, it was not a surprise though, being cultured as I am, I had to feign I was surprised big time. Add to that how big brother Phil and sister Angelique used to enjoy spoiling me. It just struck me how these two would go out of their way just to make me happy. And lots of friends from school had been “invited”. I say so because, as a small-town community, all upcoming birthdays were announced in school and everyone was automatically invited.

I stepped out of bed and jumped out through the window to the backyard. There Luna, the most beautiful dog on earth, was already waiting for me to play.  Even though my quick exit always annoyed my parents, I knew that I was not going to face any sanctions since it was going to be my show the whole day. I was the birthday boy after all and I was untouchable. So, we jumped up and down with Luna round our yard as was our morning ritual when I wasn’t going to school. I think Luna actually hated school as it deprived her of this morning play.

As we were near the gate, I noticed someone had thrown a copy of the daily newspaper onto our driveway.   In the past my daddy used to subscribe to receive these newspapers, but he had since stopped renewing because he could now access most of the publications online. I quickly picked up and raced, with Luna yards, in front of me, into the house. There was no one in the lounge. Either they were still in bed or they were busy preparing my surprise.  I put the newspaper on the coffee. Before I left the room, as a football lover, I decided to check the sports section.

As I opened the newspaper, I couldn’t help but notice a very colorful insert on the front page titled “Happy 12^th Birthday Anniversary Ricky.” My eyes popped and my heart started pounding.  The picture below the heading was definitely mine. Big smile, a tiny birth mark on my left cheek, and one of my left front teeth slightly shorter than the rest of the line. That was me.   And that was the surprise – my parents had decided to put my birthday message on the front page of our daily. I jumped up screaming with joy. That morning I think for the first time I jumped high enough to touch the ceiling. It then came to my senses that, if this was a surprise, then disappearing into my room and later pretending I had not seen the newspaper would be stroke of a genius. So, I dropped the newspaper onto he coffee table and ran, as stealthily as I could, to my bedroom.

I got into bed and covered myself head to toe with blankets. By this time every part of my body – hair and toe nails included – was full of excitement. I was going to keep to keep that newspaper the rest of my life. My kids would see it. My grand kids would see it too. I would make as many copies as possible for backup. Yes, life was good.

But there were one or two things which were out of place with the advert. It said “Happy 12th Birthday Anniversary Ricky.” My name was not Ricky. I was Sean. Maybe in the haste of getting it published someone had made a mistake – either my parents or at the newspaper offices. Or maybe my parents were trying to protect my identity in this age of kidnappings and other evils. Either way, my parents would have a very convincing explanation. They always had. Another thing which I noticed with the picture were the clothes. As far as my memory would go, I had never worn such clothes. I looked my age in the picture so it might have quite recent. But that shirt and shorts I could not recall. Had they photoshopped my picture? And what would have been the motive since I had so many recent photos which they could have used. Again, I told myself that there must be some plausible explanation.

Suddenly, my bedroom door was thrown wide open. When I uncovered my head, I saw multitudes of people enter my room with colorful balloons and other party niceties singing the “happy birthday” song. At the front were the usual suspects – my parents, Phil, Angie and my best friend John. Before long my bedroom was packed with some even climbing on others beyond the doorway to steal a glimpse of what was happening inside. Then all of a sudden, I noticed, during this joyous moment, everyone making some space as if some royalty was about to enter. Then there it was, the biggest birthday cake I had seen in my short life. It was a life-size replica, on a trolley, of myself in my football gear rushing to make a touchdown. A whole sweet me! And there I was, laughing, blushing and crying at the same time. I was given the knife and asked to cut the cake. I didn’t where to start. The head, no! The arms, no! I settled for the ball. After all, the ball was not part of my body. I cut the ball into a few slices amid the popping of some. numerous bottles of non-alcoholic champagne.

While the rest of my cake was still intact, my mom announced for everyone to leave and join us later for the main bash by the swimming pool in a couple of hours times. And so, the entourage was out of my room as fast as they had come. Except my parents. My mom hugged me, and kissed me on the forehead for the umpteenth time while wishing a happy birthday.  This was the time to show the newspaper – so I thought. But no. Instead my mother mentioned something to the tune that for them, I was more special than even Phil and Angie. Though many a times I had felt that way, this was the first time I had heard it explicitly. Then I thought I could as well ask about that newspaper ad.

“Where is the newspaper,” I asked. There was dead silence in the room you could hear a pin drop. My mom through a glance at daddy which at that time I had no idea of its meaning. Then she asked, “What newspaper dear?”. I said the one which was on the coffee table in the lounge. They both answered, in unison, that there was no newspaper in the lounge. I then dashed out of my room to go and fetch it. When I entered the lounge, there was no newspaper on the coffee table. I immediately ran out of the house to ask Phil and Angie if they had taken it. And they answered in the negative. All of a sudden, things started to look strange. It was only that morning I had picked up the daily in our driveway with my picture on the front page. They could ask Luna she was my witness. Was this part of the surprise?

I met my parents near the door as I walked backed, without the evidence. My daddy then remarked, “See, there was no newspaper. You must have imagined it.” I knew this was not a figment of my imagination. Something was weird here. The way my parents were so defensive. Something was going on here. And I had to find out. Why was everyone driving me crazy? I made my thoughts very clear to my parents, ran to my room, covered myself and started crying. I am not sure how long I cried but when I stopped, I could here my parents deliberating in their bedroom. My daddy was saying this was the time to tell me and mom thought otherwise. I must have fallen asleep while trying to eavesdrop.

I woke to a gentle tap on my right shoulder.  When I uncovered my head, my mom was sitting on my bed with daddy on my study chair. There were some moments of silence. Then my mom said, “There is something we would like to tell you.” I said nothing. I kept on staring at a very far corner of the ceiling trying to gauge their body language. “Don’t know if I have told you before, but you are very special. More special than your brother Phil and sister Angie,” she continued. “See, Phil and Angie were given to us by God. But we chose you. “It was at this moment that my daddy came in. “What your mom is trying to say is that we adopted you. We are not your biological parents. And we don’t know them, though now we are more than convinced that they know us and that you are here.”  “But you have been our beloved son the day we saw you at the orphanage,” my mom took the button stick. “We were waiting for the right moment to tell you, but our planning has been overtaken by events,” she goes on.

The parent’s verbal relay of what had happened in my eventful short life went on for some minutes though in my head it looked like an eternity. The story line was that I was picked up wrapped in a blanket in the early hours at some truck stop. There was a note next to me written “Born on August 23”. No truck driver had seen or heard anything unusual the night before. I was then taken to an orphanage. That is were I met my new parents and the rest, as they say, is history.  Then, in the months preceding my birthday my parents started receiving messages from anonymous sources that they should surrender me to my “rightful” parents.

My parents had then hired a private investigator who then unearthed the true identity of my biological mother. I had an identical twin brother by the name Ricky. My biological mother never married my biological father though she found someone and settled down. After ten years the had a divorce and that’s when she started looking for me and found me. My parents, as they said, were seeking legal counsel and, when things became unavoidable, planned to tell me the truth. At the very end my daddy asked me, “Do you have any questions? Today we are going to truthfully answer all the questions you have about your life.” I looked at my mom, then at my daddy, back to my mom and said, “Do Phil and Angie know about this?” They both answered at the same time, “Yes, they know.” I then said, “Call them in, I want to hug them.”

My daddy then rushed out to call siblings. I think they were briefed on the agenda of their summoning because as they entered my room, they were already in tears. I also started crying. My mom was also crying. Then I threw a glance at my daddy and noticed two streams flowing down the valleys of his cheeks. This was the first time I saw him cry. We hugged, cried, and hugged for a long time. At one time I even noticed Luna by the doorway and I swear, her eyes were watery too.

One of the caterers walked up to the door and announced that the party was ready to begin. I looked at my mom, daddy, Phil, Angie, not for forgetting Luna and shouted, “Let the party begin!” Before leaving the room, I saw, through the corner of the eye, a newspaper on my study desk. I walked towards it, picked it up there he was again smiling at me. I smiled back and said, loudly, “One day we shall meet, Brother Ricky.”  I ran out to join the party and there, by the pool side, my guests were gathered. Not to be outdone, my giant cake - without the football - was also there. As the saying goes, “Never let a crisis go to waste.” After all, how many people in this world can boast of having three birthdays – the day they were born, the day they were adopted, and the day they came to know about it. I am truly special.