I only meant to buy the kid a football. I said to the kid, what do want for your birthday? and the kid said he wanted a football so that he could play on the garden when the weather got out nice. we got a big garden, he said, I could get my friends round and we could have lemonade at half time made with real lemons. that's good, I said, a football for my favourite kid. man, I hoped that we'd have nothing but good weather every day from then on so that everything would be just perfect.

 

laid in bed that night, I told my wife what the kid had said he wanted and she said fine, the kid should get what he asked for, otherwise he'd lose faith in the system before he was even started out and all. and where would that leave him? I shudder to think.

'I just don't know,' I said.

'what is there to know? look at all the evil in the world,' she said, 'who's to say that it doesn't have its roots in the broken birthday dreams of children.'

'but a football's not special,' I said, 'I want to get him something that'll remind him of me every time he looks at it.'

'You and birthdays,' she said, 'presents aren't for that kind of thing, if you're an important person to the kid he'll remember you anyway, it's only through who you are that you'll leave an impression on him'.

she never was one for material things.

'if you go buying the kid anything else then he'll only think of you as the guy who doesn't listen and imposes his ideas on others.'

'maybe you're right,' I said, 'I remember one Christmas my Uncle Joey bought me a scarf after I asked him for a bike, I'll never forgive him for that.'

'but your Uncle Joey didn't have any money honey,' my wife said, 'he couldn't have afforded to go out and buy all his nephews bikes, that's not the same thing at all.'

'but the point's the same,' I said, 'I wanted one thing and got another, you're right, the kid should get his football.'

'I wish you hadn't punished your Uncle Joey so badly,' she said, 'he never recovered from those burns, I hear he ended up living in one of those shelters.'

'keep your mouth shut,' I said, 'god knows who's listening, the walls have ears around here.'

'temper, temper,' she said smiling.

I gave her a hug with a twisted smile.

 

that big old brain of mine kept ticking though, the football just wouldn't settle in my mind as the right thing. my wife! if I listened to her all the time I'd be living in a ditch by now eating mud. what did she know about birthdays? but she did have a point on one thing, there was no getting away from that, there wasn't any present that would say ME to him, not forever anyway, everything crumbles, even the kid's mind one day no doubt. I imagined him sat in some home for old people seventy years from now, slavvering his soup and looking at the perfectly maintained gift and wondering to himself all of a sudden, where did that come from? spare him the curse of forgetfulness. he might even leave it on the bus by accident. oh, the thought of that, it got me so mad I can tell you, who's the almighty up above to come between the kid and me? but I still wasn't taken by a football, I knew that wasn't the real deal in the kid's mind, maybe he thought I was some tightwad like Uncle Joey, may the devil torture his warped and selfish soul. would it have hurt him to do a little more overtime? what a fool I looked that morning. the kid deserved better than that, I wasn't going to let him down that's for sure.

 

days went by, and all I could think about was that damn football, in my sleep they bounced around my head so much so it woke me up. finally though it came to me, I worked out why I didn't want to get the kid his football. the way I see it, you ask a kid what he wants and he tells you, then you buy it for him and that's it, the deed's done, next year the same thing happens all over again. where's the fun in that, I ask you, it's nothing short of making me a damn conveyor belt. the trick was to get him something unexpected but at the same time something that he'd always dreamed about owning without him even knowing it. that way he'd never forget what I'd got him, he'd know that the two of us were on the same wavelength. what the kid really wanted was a surprise I realised, him saying he wanted a football was just a bluff, he was reaching out to me in that kid way for something better and sparing my feelings if I didn't cotton on to the deal. that kid, I could just eat him, I swear. they say that kids have no sense, but that kid, I bet he grows up to be a really important guy that people look up to. lord all he surveys, he could do that, I'd vote for him.

but what to get the kid?

I figured that that football was a sort of clue, that he was speaking in code to me, his subconscious anyway. such a bright kid! so it was obviously something sporting that he wanted, that was clear enough. but not a football, that was also clear. so I thought to myself, put yourself in the kid's position: if I was a six year old kid and it was my birthday, what sporting gift would I want? and then it was plain sailing, the kid and me are so close that I knew exactly what he wanted.

 

I skipped the afternoon off work and went shopping. as soon as I walked through the door I saw it beneath the glass of the counter. it was beautiful, I imagined the kid with it in his hand, waving it round like a cheerleader's baton and all his family shrieking excitedly at him like I'd made him king for the day. who would have thought to get him such a present, they'd be thinking, who'd have ever thought of getting the kid that?

'can I help you sir?' said the guy behind the counter, all wizened looking.

'you most certainly can, my good man,' I said, 'I'd like to have a look at the .38 Smith and Wesson you have under your right hand there.'

the guy got a key out of his back pocket, unlocked the cabinet and passed it to me like it was made of tissue paper.

'the gun's for you is it sir?' he said.

'oh no, no,' I smiled, 'no, this gun's for a kid that I know.'

I weighed the gun up in my right hand, it felt good, I wished that I'd had that with me instead of the piece of shit I was carrying when Granddad Pete missed my big day that time. bullets aren't the cheapest things in the world.

'the gun's for a kid?' he asked, 'how old is this kid?'

'well, the kid's five right now, but this is for his birthday, so he'll be six by then.'

'you know sir,' he said, 'I aren't really supposed to sell guns to kids, which I'm kind of doing indirectly by selling it to you.'

'come on,' I said, 'kids love guns.'

'that's true,' he said, 'kids do love guns. and I'd hate to disappoint some kid on his birthday. what the hell, just make sure he's careful with it.'

'what's the best way for a kid to go careful with a gun then?' I asked.

'oh, just tell him to aim at the sky and not point it at anyone,' he said.

in my mind's eye I saw myself jump over the counter, grab the keys out of the guy's back pocket, open the cabinet, load up the biggest shotgun I could find and put two holes in him bigger than what was left. I got my wallet out and told him I'd have some ammo to go.

 

got the gun home, tried it out on my wife and wrapped it up in nice paper, the kid likes things that look nice. got him a card as well, I wrote 'happy birthday soldier' in it. my wife always said that I should have been a father, for once she was right maybe. I mean, that kid just drives me nuts he's so cute. football, bah, the kid and me knew about birthdays. every time I'd ever seen the kid in my head, I'd always seen him with the gun. those two went together like brothers.

I went down the park, the kid likes to play on the swings and feed the ducks, that's where I always meet him, our special place.

'hey mister,' he said, 'nice to see you again, it's my birthday today. I'm going home to eat my cake and blow out the candles.'

see what I mean, what a kid!

'kid,' I said, 'I know it's your birthday, you told me before. I got you a present see.'

the kid took the present like he'd never seen one before. he ripped the paper off, grabbed the gun out and held it aloft just like I thought he would. man, did he look excited, I thought I was going to explode there on the spot I was so proud of myself for getting things just right. but then all of a sudden he started to look different, he changed right there in front of me. like some kind of blazing judgement. the last thing I heard before I hit the ground was two loud bangs like thunder cracks.

 

after that I don't remember much. but like I told my wife when I finally got to her, kids are just kids, they don't always know what they're doing. you can't hold a kid responsible. not when he's a kid like that kid. that kid.