You never know when will a surprise come. It was a day like all other days. But there was only one slight difference, iy was my 13th birthday!!! But apparently none remembered, or that is what I thought.
At the morning, my mother told me that we are going to the mall with a couple of friends and so we did. At the beginning, no one mentioned anything about my birthday. But after a while, two of my friends came to me holding a bag and screamed with a deafening sound" Happy Birthday !! ". They gave me an amazing pair of navy blue shoes which, while wearing them, felt as cozy as cotton was. Then every once in a while, one of my friend gave me a gift and wished me a happy birthday. But nothing came from my parents.
The day was about to end and I had no gift from my parents. My father invited us to have dinner at a restaurant. I kept hearing the sizzling sound of steaks in the kitchen and the shouts of the chefs in the kitchen while chatting with my family.i looked happy, but I was burning from the inside. "How can they forget!?!?!?" I said to myself. Then, almost all the restaurant's crew stood in front of our table holding a cake that was a colorful as a rainbow and as tasty as nothing else. They froze in their place for a moment then started singing joyfully "happy birthday to you ". And before I realize what had just happened, it was the time for another surprise. It was a phone, the phone of my dreams. It was just like I ever wanted.
It was one of the best birthday parties I have ever had. I was hopeful at the beginning, at the middle I was depressed, and at the end I was happy. It was a day that I will remember for the rest of my life.
I still remember the day he arrived, because I’d been waiting for weeks. A box stood on our front porch, brought by the mailman. I brought the box in, tore the tape off, and then lifted him out.
Two blue glass eyes stared back. The head was covered with brown hair, parted at the side. Slots ran down both sides of his mouth to the bottom of his chin. I found the lever that connected to a string in his back, and pulled it down. His jaw clicked open along those slots. I let go, and the jaw snapped back up. I looked back at his wooden face, and then asked:
“What’s your name?”
Then, while carefully pulling the lever down to make his mouth open and trying to keep my lips as still as possible, I made him say:
With Spanky something else had arrived, too. A 30-lesson correspondence course in ventriloquism that came from a ventriloquism school. The course came with exams you had to take and pass.
I had just turned eleven, and that summer I worked on Spanky’s voice and tried to speak without moving my lips. I read each lesson and studied for exams that I would take and then send to the school to grade. There were three exams. The first two were 20 multiple choice questions. But the third exam was different.
The third exam was your first show in front of a live audience. A witness had to sign a form that you did it. My dad offered to be mine. I then booked my first show with a retirement center. Spanky and I spent weeks in front of a mirror, working on switching our voices back and forth, working on keeping my lips still, and working on memorizing our act.
And then the day came. On a Saturday morning, I stood off to the side of the stage as my heart thundered within my chest, feeling like it would burst. Even though I had practiced for weeks, I felt like running away as the Entertainment Director announced from the stage:
“And now, please welcome Sparks and Spanky!”
I walked up to the stage, carrying Spanky as my knees shook. I sat in the chair, balancing him on my lap. I took a deep breath, and looked out to see my dad in the audience, ready to sign that I had completed my first show. Encouraged, I then leaned towards the microphone:
“Spanky, do you like girls that talk a lot, or the other kind?”
“There AIN’T no other kind!” he said.
“Well,” I began. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”
“All depends,” he answered. “On who’s in sight!”
We continued with the act, and my nervousness left as I realized that I wasn’t by myself. This ventriloquist dummy was helping me. We finished the act, and appreciated the applause that followed.
As I left the stage, a resident from the retirement center came up and asked:
“How old are you?”
“Eleven,” I said.
“Oh, I was talking to your friend,” she said, pointing at Spanky.
Soon other residents came up. Each one wanted to speak to Spanky. They told him about their former jobs, their favorite vacation spots, and their favorite games. They told him about their hobbies, their grandkids, and how they’d met their spouses.
As I put Spanky away in his box before heading out, those blue eyes stared back. With him, I had learned a skill and shared it with people I had never met before. Through him, they in turn shared with me the experiences of their lives. I never expected that something I viewed as a toy could give me such an opportunity.
You can learn a lot from a dummy.