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“This desk set wants to fly.”
The memory, buried by the pain of the last year, once more breaks the surface of Todd’s consciousness, even before he begins tearing off the wrapping paper. He didn’t need to unwrap it to know. The shape of the package was enough. Inwardly, he groans. Outwardly, he puts on a smile to meet his mother and father’s expectant faces. If they notice how forced his expression, they give no indication.
“Maybe they thought you needed a new one?”
After the fate of last year’s birthday present, of which he now holds a clone in his hands, he can’t even say that there might not be some merit to that possibility- though it might have been nice if, for once, his parents had gotten him something he wants. Or at least, if it had to be a desk set, could they not have given him one that he might actually like instead of the same one they’d given Jeff before him.
Or maybe they didn’t even buy them each year. Could it be that they’d bought a stock of them at once and simply took one from the pile each year, wrapping it up without even the thought needed to go out and buy the same one again?
Either way, there’s no question in Todd’s mind that this year’s iteration should follow in the wake of its predecessor.
Later that night, his feet carry him, almost without thought, to that spot on the walkway where Neil had found him one year ago. More memories surface, so quickly he almost feels he should be gasping for air as Neil’s face looms behind his eyes, the humorous admonishment that he’s underestimated the value of the gift.
“It’s almost aerodynamic, isn’t it?”
He held the package in his hands, bouncing it a little as he remembered Neil had done. Looking up into the night, his eyes squeezed shut for just a moment as he held it up, as if an offering, as if Neil could see what he was doing- could he?
He speaks, just barely out loud. It feels strange, his birthday seemingly turned to a ritual of memorial as an echo of Neil’s words issue from his mouth. “Behold, the world’s second unmanned flying desk set.”
Though he would never regain the few seconds of reckless abandon that had come over him the first time he had committed this act of petty rebellion, some ghost of it takes hold as he flings the offending gift into the air, it’s contents scattering in the evening breeze.
“Well, I wouldn’t worry. You’ll get another one next year.”
With grim amusement, Todd considers the possibility that should Neil’s trivial prophecy once more come to pass, he might consider the world’s first manned flying desk set next year.