Characters:
Jamie
Ami
Nick
Ryan
Setting: Now and then
It’s almost inevitable, Jamie thinks, that on a birthday your thoughts are taken to birthdays past: the unmatched excitement of new G.I. Joe action figures, or the gut-tugging anxiety of an unwanted gift, when the giver is so obviously unaware and gleefully waiting to see how much you’d like it. Growing up, life is little more than a relentless teeter between anticipation and guilt.
“So what do you want to do for your birthday?” Ami asks as the train emerges from the last tunnel before Wellington station.
“Oh, I don’t know. Take it easy. Maybe go out for a bit after work.” Jamie replies. He felt a little odd planning to celebrate his own birthday. In a small, self-centred burst, he almost added, “You should have it all worked out. It’s MY birthday, after all.” But he kept silent, and a pang of guilt nagged him for even thinking it.
The train slugged into the station with its signature hiss, and people poured gently out. 8:15 on a Wednesday morning, and Wellington commuters are easy and polite. Ami pauses near the exit.
“Just txt me when you’re done at work.” She kisses him on the lips. She says “have a good day,” he says, “you too.” They stand in the same place and say the same thing every weekday morning, but they both still look forward to it. Sometimes, they even get butterflies.
Nervous energy has always plagued Jamie, and today is no exception. His work as a Web Analyst for the New Zealand government could not have been farther from his mind all morning. His thoughts instead drifted toward the afternoon and his meeting up with Nick for lunch. The two had met on a previous contract and had bonded over their shared admiration for consuming meat-filled pastries and alcohol--preferably in quick succession. Nowadays, they actively look for excuses to indulge in pie and beer. Today was just such an excuse.
Just off of Courtenay Place, in the heart of Wellington, exists the best pie shop in the city, according to Nick. They certainly had the biggest pies, but their standard was hotly debated among pie enthusiasts. Some reckon the pastry isn’t flaky enough; others champion Trisha’s generous fillings. Good, bad, it was the place with the pies. And the fact it was next door to a pub was too enticing to ignore.
Walking back to the office took Jamie past one of two video game arcades on Courtenay Place. As he passed, a sudden flicker of recognition registered in his brain. He turned his head to look in and was momentarily flung back to Wichita, Kansas, 1989.
He was 12 and at Le Mans video arcade in the mall with his best friend, Ryan. A new game had just arrived: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Jamie had never seen anything like it. Music blared from the machine, silencing those nearby. The graphics were like the cartoon, just like the cartoon, in fact. And it was massive, allowing four people to play at once. For the first time in his life, Jamie was truly awestruck. Of course, people were lining up to play. So he waited.
“They just got it yesterday,” he overheard one say. Quarters were lined up on the Perspex console, the surface covered in coins (Jamie would not see the like until he started playing pool in bars some years later). One after another, they plugged their silver into the machine. And with each “Cowabunga!”, Jamie was further from play. Ryan, in the meantime, was surprised to find he didn’t have to wait to play Street Fighter II, and so was happily stationed, ignoring the crowd that had gathered near the front of the room.
An hour passed. Jamie felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. It was Ryan’s father here to pick them up. Jamie put his hand in his pocket and rubbed worn five-dollar bill, unbroken. He hadn’t played a single game.
At the end of the workday, Jamie sent a txt to Ami asking her to meet him in town. They grabbed a quick bite and laughed about things Jamie would too soon forget. There were a few silences, and Ami yawned.
“Shall we scoot home?” She asked.
“Can we do one thing first,” Jamie replied. He pulled out a five-dollar note and walked her across the street to the arcade. Together, and alone, they crushed evil Foot Ninjas, saved April, and were probably the first ones to play Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in weeks. One hour and many game-overs later, Ami put out her hand.
“Quick! I need another coin I’m about to die!”
“There’s nothing left. I’ve spent the whole thing.” They both laughed. Never before had losing felt so liberating.
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