Ryan remembers happier times and tries to recreate a semblance of what once was for Cassie.
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Cassieeeee! Happy birthday TO YOU!” Round of applause. Cassie’s face alight in the glow of the candles, the party, the presents on the hutch waiting to be opened. She closes her eyes and blows out the candles. For a moment, the room is completely dark. Then Ryan flips on the light switch and the kitchen is radiant once more. He watches Cassie smiling, looking around as aunts and uncles distribute paper plates and get ready to cut the cake. Everything is bright in their small kitchen. Their world is full of light.
He woke in darkness. It wasn’t the first time he’d fallen asleep clinging to that memory. Two things always stood out about those images: the smile on his daughter’s face, and the ease with which he turned on a light. Such a trivial thing to miss, such a powerful gesture to lose. He looked over at Cassie’s sleeping form and listened to her faint snores. He remained awake for the rest of the night.
A healthy fear of the dark was sensible.
In the morning, they broke down their camp and gave thanks and continued. They’d spent a rare night in the wilderness; Ryan was more cautious after their brush against the woman, and he’d deliberately avoided finding another abandoned building to sleep in. Cassie hadn’t complained; she endured each decision with the optimistic tolerance of a well-adjusted child. Ryan called a quick halt to their walk, and rummaged through his pack. He found what he was looking for almost right away, and smiled.
“Do you know what today is?” he called.
Cassie looked at her father, brushing streaks of dirty blonde hair away from her forehead. Ryan said nothing, and Cassie’s eyes slowly widened with dawning realization.
He nodded and stood. “Let’s take a break in a little bit and celebrate.”
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Cassieeeeee. Happy birthday to you!” He held the Animal Cracker in his hand, and Cassie, eyes closed, pretended to blow out the candles. Then she opened her eyes, saw the cracker, and took it. That small part of her that used to expect a slice of cake to have magically materialized had long since faded.
Ryan couldn’t say how long it had been since she’d thought that somehow closing her eyes and making a wish would make a difference. He also couldn’t have guessed when her actual birthday was, not anymore. He just waited until it felt like it had been long enough since her last birthday ‘cake’ and produced one of a dwindling supply of Animal Crackers that he’d swiped from their cupboard back during the early days. He couldn’t have known the exact significance of the act at the time; all had been chaos and survival instincts back then. But these little crackers had become an invaluable part of their routine.
Cassie had a birthday party probably every month. He had no idea exactly how often they occurred, because he’d stopped counting days long ago. The important thing was to give her something to look forward to beyond the dry monotony of daily survival. So he gave her a birthday, whenever he thought she needed one. Life without hope was merely survival.
As the day waned, they settled back into their routine and made ready to find a place to camp. They were on the edge of the woods, outside the boundaries of the closest town. They’d find a house or motel tomorrow, and though he might not sleep for fear of someone slowly turning doorknobs, at least Cassie would have a bed. He listened for any foreign sounds, but there was only the occasional chirp of a bird and the crunch of the forest beneath their feet. The shadows stretched and loomed as they slowed their walk and started to set up their camp.
Darkness came soon after, as it always did.