Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
It was finally the 28th of April. Wang Yang’s appointments with three film companies over the past two days had been fruitless. Meanwhile, Artisan Entertainment had yet to contact him—something which hardly surprised him.
It was a busy day, to be sure. In the morning, Wang Yang distributed flyers part-time. And in the afternoon, he went to try his luck at a film company called ThinkFilm and even managed to show his movie to them. Though the acquisition manager was clearly spooked and drenched in a cold sweat by the end of the film, they’d decided, after careful deliberation, that it was too risky a proposition.
Because his appointment with ThinkFilm was scheduled rather late in the day, and the company’s headquarters was located far away from Jessica’s house, Wang Yang didn’t have time to go home to take a shower and change his clothes after his meeting. As soon as his meeting with ThinkFilm ended, he was on his way to Jessica’s house to celebrate her birthday, with her present tucked safely in his briefcase.
The sun was just about to set when Wang Yang reached Jessica’s neighborhood with time to spare. It was a very posh neighborhood—a wide, ample road in the middle, bungalows that stretched like trains on either side with lots of garden in the front and back, sprawling green trees, and picturesque scenery. The neighborhood was the epitome of high-end living in Los Angeles.
“Hi, Jessica, I’m almost at your place, but I don’t know how to get there or where to turn next.” Scanning his surroundings, Wang Yang broke into an apologetic smile and said over the phone, “Oh, okay. I think I’m lost. Yes, I’m at a crossroads. I see a tiny fountain in the middle, and benches beside it, and some trees around it…”
“A fountain? Oh, I know where you are!” Jessica’s exuberant laughter translated crisply through the phone. Wang Yang could tell she was in a very good mood. “You’re very close to my house. Wait, why don’t you stay where you are, and I’ll come and get you? Don’t go anywhere.”
“Okay.” Wang Yang ended the call, tucked his cell phone into his pocket, and sat down on a bench beside the fountain. He looked at the surroundings and admired the scenery as he waited. After a while, Jessica appeared at the crossroads with her shining smile and friendly wave. Upon seeing Wang Yang, she quickened her steps.
She looked extraordinarily pretty that day. She wore a floral summer dress. Her long, auburn hair bounced and flowed in the wind as she jogged toward Wang Yang. When she reached the bench where Wang Yang sat, she smiled at him, revealing her pearly whites. “Hi, Yang!”
Looking at her as if dazed by the wonder of what he saw, Wang Yang leaped to his feet. “Wow, Jessica, you look really pretty today,” he tittered and said, “Happy birthday!”
“Thanks.” Jessica twirled her hair as she smiled, visibly flattered. “I’m glad you made it,” she said cheerily.
There was a moment of silence when she saw Wang Yang’s hand going into his briefcase and pulling out what looked like an iridescent parcel. Then, she realized it was a present for her. She held both her hands to her mouth in astonishment and said, “Oh, my God…”
“Ding, ding, ding,” said Wang Yang as he beamed gleefully. Holding the gift with both his hands, he presented it to her. “Are you Ms. Jessica Alba? Here’s your birthday present. Please sign for your package,” he said jokingly.
“Oh, my God…” Jessica’s breaths were ragged gasps. She received the gift with open hands as if it were a gift from heaven. Thrilled beyond measure, she cried, “Wow! I must be dreaming. Yang, I can’t believe I’m getting a present from you again. This is the second present you’ve ever given me.” She smiled again and said, “Do you know? The first birthday present you gave me was also the first birthday present I’d ever gotten from a friend. Back then, I’d never received a present from anyone besides my family.”
Wang Yang felt a little guilty and awkward when he heard what Jessica had said. His first birthday present? The Wife Cakes weren’t even made by him. They were just a present that he’d rustled up at the last minute. Now that he came to think of it, he’d even eaten seven of out the ten cakes in the box, while Jessica had only eaten three… He never expected his gift to leave such a mark on Jessica.
His second present was admittedly more thoughtful than his first, though it was still somewhat of a last-ditch effort. Wang Yang gave a dry laugh, his voice laced with shame. “Why don’t you open it up?”
“Okay, let’s see what it is.” Jessica seemed to be too engrossed in her present to be aware of his discomfiture. She tore up the wrapping happily, revealing what looked like a book. She took it out of the box with great curiosity and anticipation. Upon closer inspection, she realized it wasn’t a book, but a thick folio consisting of many sheets of A4 paper.
On the cover page, written large, in pencil, was the word “Ranger.” As she casually turned the pages, she realized the entire folio of A4 paper was filled with pencil scribbles—rows and rows of densely written texts inlaid with illustrations. Some of the illustrations depicted weapons. Others depicted people and characters. There were also panels of sketches arranged like a comic strip. Though the quality of the drawings was average, she could tell right away that they were meant to be storyboards.
For a minute, Jessica stood staring at the manuscript. Then, she realized the present for what it was. She looked up at Wang Yang with her big, eager eyes, and said in amazement, “Wow, is this what I think it is?” before looking down at the stack of paper in her hands and raving on about her gift. “A manuscript for a movie? Ranger? Yang, did you write this script?”
Wang Yang scratched his head and glanced at his manuscript with a hint of pride. It was as if he were looking at his own flesh and blood. “Yeah, it’s just a silly little story I’ve written. I hope you like it.”
Since he couldn’t afford an expensive gift, he’d decided to go along with something meaningful and special. After rummaging through his possessions, he came up with the script. The stories contained within the script weren’t inspired by any of the movies in his clairvoyant visions. Instead, they were born out of his own imagination and effort. He’d been an avid lover and practitioner of martial arts ever since he was a little boy, thanks to Mr. Wu. At the same time, growing up with Marvel Comics, he had an obsession with superheroes, such as Superman, Batman, Captain America, and many others. His passions culminated in a script which told of the adventures of a martial-arts-themed superhero set in a modern metropolis.
He had started working on the story when he was in middle school, and he hadn’t stopped ever since. Over the years, his thinking and personality matured, his life experiences accumulated, his wisdom developed, and his knowledge of cinema increased. And, as he grew, so did the script, which had been continuously rewritten and embellished. All the ideas he’d ever come up with, both the good and the bad, captured in a thick stack of paper. There was enough material for 20 movies and then some. The manuscript was the crystallization of all his years of hard work.
That’s why he’d decided to make a photocopy of it and give it to Jessica.
“Of course I like it. I like it a lot!” Jessica thumbed through the pages of the thick A4 manuscript, her eyes liquid and shiny with gratitude. “Wow, this is unbelievable… This is the best present I’ve ever received…” she murmured.
Wang Yang felt a sharp pang of guilt when he heard her thanks. Half-humorously, he said, “Jessica, I have a feeling this script will be made into a movie one day, and you’ll be starring in it. That’s the real present—if you don’t mind being a female lead, that is.”
“Huh?” Jessica’s heart leaped. Her fingers stopped leafing. She remembered the conversation they had had when they were little: her promise to Wang Yang that she’d become an actress and Wang Yang’s promise to her that he’d become a director. But… what about Wang Yang’s present? Could there be a special meaning behind it? Hugging the manuscript to her chest, she looked up at him through her large, unblinking eyes. Her voice diminished unconsciously as her heart quaked. “Um… I think… I think I’ll give it a shot,” she squeaked.
However, unlike she’d imagined, Wang Yang’s gift didn’t bear any special message at all. He smiled, nodded, and said, “Good, that’s the spirit! At least now, I don’t have to worry about being stuck without a female lead.” He laughed.
The little smile was still on Jessica’s face. Seeing as Wang Yang was running out of words, Jessica broke their silence with an “oh” and said, “Okay, come with me, then. My house is right up the road.”
She lived in a big house with spacious front and back lawns, just like the others in the neighborhood. Balloons hovered above the trees, and the mailbox in the front lawn was like a colorful bouquet of lollipops stuck on green, floral foam. Several tables were set up on the lawn just for the occasion, draped in cloth and burdened with all kinds of treats. Many people occupied the compound, the adults busy setting up the party, the youngsters talking among themselves, and the children running, tagging, and hiding to their heart’s content. It seemed they’d invited quite a few guests.
“Dude, welcome to my home!” Immediately upon seeing Jessica return with Wang Yang, Joshua, who was standing at the lawn, went up to greet them. He gave a spirited high five to Wang Yang with one hand while holding his DV camcorder in the other, apparently still filming. With a smile, he told Wang Yang, “Please don’t mind me, I’m just making a movie. That’s right, it’s going to be a documentary, and I’m going to call it ‘Jessica’s Sweet 17th’. Isn’t it cool?” With that, he went on to film his next subject while a big, white dog followed behind him. Jessica told Wang Yang it was their family’s Labrador, Danny.
“Hey, Jessica. Who is he?” At that moment, several youngsters—guys and girls, blacks and whites—approached them. They looked at Wang Yang curiously.
Jessica’s eyes flicked from her friends’ faces to Wang Yang’s and back to her friends’. Then with a smile, she introduced him. “This is Wang Yang. He’s a good friend of mine and a director.” Wang Yang acknowledged her friends with a nod and said, “Hi, guys.”
The youngsters let out a collective “wow” as they sized up Wang Yang. Wasn’t he a little too young for a director?
Then, Jessica introduced her friends to Wang Yang. Elijah Wood was first, a modestly sized white male who starred in Flipper. He and Jessica obviously had come to know each other on the set. As Wang Yang stared at his fine, youthful face, he couldn’t help but find him familiar. Upon deeper introspection, he realized he’d later star in Lord of the Rings as the hobbit, Frodo Baggins.
Next was a young guy named Jack Frank. Tall, well-built, and white. It turned out he was also a cinema major, just like Wang Yang, and from the reputable UCLA (University of California, Los Angeles) no less. Rumor had it that he was quite the basketball player, adept at playing as a swingman. He was good friends with Elijah Wood, and it was through Elijah that he had come to know Jessica. Wang Yang tracked Jack with his eyes, feeling slightly uneasy about him. Could he be the “Jack” that Joshua had been telling him about?
Then there were John, David, Winters, Erin, and the rest of the gang. Some of them were Jessica’s neighbors, whereas the others were her classmates from acting school.
After everyone had become acquainted with one another, it seemed as if Jack Frank had suddenly noticed the stack of A4 paper in Jessica’s hands. He asked curiously, “Wow, Jessica, what’s that you’re holding?”
Breaking into a smile, she simply said, “It’s a script. Wang Yang gave it to me as my birthday present.” Her laconic reply suggested there was more to the present than she was willing to divulge, a happy little secret that she was perfectly content with keeping to herself. She looked at Wang Yang smilingly and said, “Yang, come with me. Let me introduce you to my family.” She excused herself from her friends, took Wang Yang’s arm, and made their way across the lawn to the backyard.
“A script?” Out of the corner of his eye, Jack Frank studied them. As they went off talking and smiling at each other, he furrowed his brows and murmured in displeasure.
First, Wang Yang was introduced to Jessica’s mother and her grandmother. Her mother, Cathy, was a very charming and incredibly gorgeous middle-aged woman with a friendly disposition. It was immediately apparent to him that she’d come from a well-educated background. Scanning his mental database, Wang Yang gathered that Cathy had come from a Canadian family of Danish and French descent. No wonder she’d begotten such a beautiful girl as Jessica. Jessica’s grandmother was as kind and amiable as old grandmothers went, though Wang Yang wished she hadn’t been squinting at him and chuckling to herself the whole time.
Then, Jessica spotted her father from across the lawn and fetched him. His name was Mark Alba. Unusually tall and square-shouldered for a Mexican man, he had the most vivid and striking face, which was further accented by his crew-cut hairstyle. Although he was a real estate mogul these days, he still had the commanding presence of an air force officer.
With one hand around the script, the other around her father’s arm, her eyes proudly on Wang Yang, and her face all smile, Jessica said to her father, “Daddy, this is Yang. He’s an old classmate of mine. I knew him back when we were still living in San Francisco. He’s a really nice guy.”
“Hi, Mr. Alba, nice to meet you.” As Wang Yang reached out for a handshake, something strange struck him. Why was Mark looking at him with such sternness and disapproval? Was it the army in him that was giving Wang Yang such a threatening vibe?
Mark Alba glanced at Wang Yang up and down and reached out his hand to shake his firmly. With an impassive voice, he said, “Nice to meet you. Welcome to our home.”
So much for the introduction. Jessica dropped her hand from her father’s arm and clutched Wang Yang’s script with both her hands again. “Yang, please make yourself at home. I’m going to keep your present somewhere safe!” she said. With that, she made her way to the house, leaving Wang Yang alone with her father, holding each other’s eyes.
Mark Alba stared at Wang Yang out of stern, steely eyes. Abruptly, Wang Yang bristled. Then, frowning out of the blue, Mark Alba asked, “Yang, are you and Jessica dating?” Wang Yang froze up a second, then answered, “No, no, sir. Whatever made you think that?” He shook his head, trying to laugh the tension away. “Mr. Alba, I think you’re mistaken. Jessica and I are just good friends.”
“Oh!” Mark Alba nodded as if Wang Yang’s response made any sense to him. Inside, however, he was a little confused. If he wasn’t Jessica’s boyfriend, why did she give him such a dignified introduction? The only time his daughter had ever wrapped her arms around his was when she was begging him to let her go to acting school.
Jessica hummed a tune as she skipped happily into the house with the script in her hands. Just as she was about to go upstairs to her room, her grandmother appeared in her path. She let out a gentle, knowing chuckle and asked, “Jessica, is that boy, Yang, your boyfriend?” Jessica stood stunned, then said, “What? Grandma, did you say Yang? No.” Fighting the curve on her lips, she added, “We’re just friends!” With that, she disappeared upstairs with her precious script in rapid little stomps.
Isn’t he? Grandma chuckled to herself in soft, drawn-out haw-haws.
Once in the privacy of her room, Jessica breathed a sigh of relief and giggled like a schoolgirl. She laid the script on her table. Opening up a page at random, she began to admire the writing and the drawings. She caressed the paper with her fingers, a smile flickering over her face. She wondered, “When will Wang Yang make it into a movie?”
Wang Yang’s first conversation with Mark Alba was excruciating but brief. Though he was told to make himself at home, Wang Yang didn’t dare to venture too far. He stayed on the lawn, walking around for the entirety of the afternoon until his stomach growled. Realizing that he hadn’t eaten anything in a while, he made his way to the huge spread and picked up a doughnut. As he bit into the sugary treat and chewed it, he couldn’t help but moan and burst out with pleasure, “Oh, my God! This is sweet.”
As he ate his doughnut, he looked at the children frolicking and chasing one another on the grass, wondering if Little Mary, the DV enthusiast, was among them.
At that moment, Jack Frank walked toward Wang Yang, pretending to mind his own business. He grabbed a doughnut, took a bite out of it, and looked sidelong at Wang Yang. “Hey, Yang,” he said, trying to strike up a conversation. Wang Yang reciprocated in kind. Then, Jack Frank asked, “Yang, did you actually write that script?”
“You mean the one Jessica’s holding?” Wang Yang gave a nod and said, “Yeah, sure. That’s my manuscript, all right.”
Jack Frank cracked up in laughter with his mouth full of doughnut, crumbs falling out, and gave Wang Yang a thumbs-up. “Dude, that’s genius. What a great idea! Giving her something that looks special while spending next to nothing. I mean, it’s just a stack of paper, isn’t it?”
Wang Yang lifted a shoulder, too tired to argue. What was he getting at? That his gift was lousy? That his script had no value? Nevertheless, it didn’t matter to Wang Yang as long as Jessica liked it.
At that point, Wang Yang was fairly certain that Jack Frank wasn’t Jessica’s boyfriend, not from the way he acted toward him. He was most likely an admirer of Jessica’s, and his snide remarks might very well be an attempt at warding off a potential suitor.
“By the way, Yang, just now, I heard Jessica say that you’re a director?” As expected, Jack Frank continued to rub it in.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Wang Yang couldn’t stand another minute of him. Still, he humored him in hopes that he’d leave as soon as possible.
Jack Frank raised an eyebrow. There was a chink of anxiety in the armor of his confidence. In a slightly hesitant voice, he asked, “So, has any of your work been released?” Wang Yang turned his gaze to the children playing in the distance, and said softly, “No, not yet.” Abruptly, Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Then, he asked again, “Where do you go to college?”
“I’m no longer in college.”
“How did you and Jessica know each other?”
“We used to be classmates.”
Jack Frank nodded abruptly. It looked like he wasn’t much of a threat. “Just an old classmate,” he thought to himself. He turned toward Wang Yang and prompted, “Oh yeah, can I ask you another question?” Wang Yang rolled his eyes and replied impatiently, “Oh, come on, dude, you’ve already asked me a billion questions.” Ignoring his plea, Jack asked, “So, what work do you do?”
“Well, I work part-time as a server in McDonald’s. I’m also known to hand out flyers occasionally,” Wang Yang answered candidly. Then, with an amused expression, he asked, “Dude, are you happy now?”
A server? A flyer distributor? Upon hearing Wang Yang’s occupation, Jack Frank could hardly hide his contentment. Ha, how could a part-timer without a future possibly compare to a student from a brand name university like him? Where did everyone get the nerve to call themselves a director those days? He let out a whistle and said, “That’s all I need to know. Enjoy your food.” As he said that, he gave Wang Yang a smack on his bum, turned around, and walked away laughing.
Wang Yang couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. The poor fool. He wanted to pursue Jessica, yet he was woefully unaware that he was exactly the kind of guy that Jessica hated the most: arrogant, elitist, and preppy.
As Wang Yang ate his doughnut and admired his surroundings—the children throwing the ball, Danny the Labrador chasing after it with its hair shimmering in the light and its tongue flapping—he felt at once dazed and blissful. Suddenly, there was a light tap on his shoulder, followed by a “hey.” He turned around and saw Jessica standing behind him, looking as pretty and fresh as a daisy. Smiling, she said, “Yang, how’s the doughnut? Pretty good, huh?”
“Oh, it’s the bomb. Crispy on the outside, sweet on the inside. A doughnut fit for a king.” Surprised to see her gushing with happiness as he praised the doughnut, he said, “Oh, don’t tell me—did you make it?”
With his compliment dangling in front of her, Jessica wished she could say yes. However, the doughnuts weren’t made by her. She shook her head with a smile and said, “No, Grandma made them.” Wang Yang took another bite and said cordially, “I see, kudos to your grandmother, then.”
“Yeah.” Looking afar at the children’s happy faces, she asked, “Yang, do you like kids?” She’d seen the smile on Wang Yang’s face just now. It was the kind of smile that’d only appear on someone who appreciated children.
Wang Yang nodded with a smile. Shifting his gaze to the children as well, he said, “Children, dogs, Tom and Jerry. They’re all so cute. I can watch them for hours.” Then, a slight frown took over the smile on his face. “Of course, some children can be a handful, just like that kid in Home Alone, always being a nuisance and making a mess of everything. I don’t know what I’d do with a child like that.”
“Me too.” Jessica glanced at Wang Yang as if there was something else she wanted to say. Then, she said, “I like children, too. And dogs, and Tom and Jerry. But I hate Home Alone.” She laughed.
Wang Yang smiled and said, “But, from what I see, those kids aren’t the trouble-making type. Haha, in fact, I feel like joining in their fun.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll be able to join them, at least not for now.” Jessica grinned and said enthusiastically, “Madam Miranda is here!” She waved her hand and began to head back into the house. “Yang, follow me.”
“Oh, okay.” Wang Yang finished his doughnut, wiped his hand with a napkin, and followed Jessica into the house.
Madam Miranda lounged in the powder-blue, fabric sofa in the living room, reading the script of Paranormal Activity. She was a middle-aged, Caucasian woman. That day, she appeared immaculate, dressed in a black pantsuit and a pair of rimless glasses. Everything about her exuded professionalism—a real career woman if there ever was one.
Jessica sat beside her, her eyes filled with hope, whereas Wang Yang sat on a sofa opposite her, passively waiting for her to render her judgment.
Miranda read the script with mock interest. In truth, she’d become blasé about such attempts. Year after year, countless greenhorns bring their scripts to film companies to try their luck, only to be turned down. Of course, there were always the select, lucky few who’d manage to catch the film companies’ eyes with their scripts. What then? The company would pay a paltry sum for the script and go on to produce the movie with its own team of experts, while the screenwriter faded in obscurity.
It all came down to value. There was simply no way to predict how a script would turn out as a movie, and hence no way to ascertain its market value. In other words, a script written by an unestablished screenwriter was virtually worthless.
After reading it for a while, Miranda could see that the script was well written. At the very least, it reflected the writer’s professionalism and skill and had proven itself to be worthy of her attention. She lifted her eyes and looked across at Wang Yang and asked, “Yang, Jessica told me you’ve been visiting a lot of film companies. Is that true?” At the same time, Jessica looked Wang Yang’s way.
Wang Yang nodded and said, “Yes, I’ve been to quite a few companies, but no one had any interest in my movie so far.” As soon as he finished his sentence, he huffed out a self-deprecating laugh.
But it was to be expected. She’d only known too many young people like him, who waltzed into film companies with their scripts, starry-eyed, only to walk out hurt, embittered, and tearful. Miranda asked again, “If you don’t mind me asking, which film companies did you talk to?”
“Sure, let me think.” Wang Yang took a deep breath and recounted his entire ordeal. “Let’s see, Searchlight Pictures, Paramount Classics—they turned me down over the phone. The companies that were willing to meet me in person were New Line Cinema, Dimension Films, Summit Entertainment, Artisan Entertainment, ThinkFilm…” By the time he’d named about a dozen of the film companies, he’d already run out of breath.
Suddenly, there was a frown on Miranda’s face. She closed the script, looked at Jessica, shook her head, and said, “Sorry, Jessica. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do to help.” An “Oh Lord” broke into the open. Jessica’s face wore an expression at once, astonished, disappointed, and fretful. “But why?” she asked. Miranda looked both of them and explained, “Look, I’m friends with Mr. Roberts from Dimension Films and Mr. Ulman from ThinkFilm. But unfortunately, as you said, neither of them are interested in Wang Yang’s movie.” She threw up her hands resignedly and added, “I’m sorry.”
Jessica looked at Miranda with her puppy dog face. “Miranda, is there really no other way?”
“It’s all right, Jessica, really.” Wang Yang gave her a reassuring smile. Then his eyes jumped to meet Miranda’s. “Thank you, Madam Miranda. I totally understand,” he said politely.
Miranda nodded without saying a word. After thinking for a second, she spoke again, this time with a serious expression. “But, Yang, if you don’t mind my saying so, I don’t think DV movies are very practical. There’s a reason why so many film companies have turned down your work.” Carrying on in her weighty tone, she said, “Actually, you’re quite good-looking. You may want to consider acting. As you know, Chinese actors are in huge demand in many studios right now.” Clearly, it was veiled advice telling him not to waste his time.
A Chinese gangster? An Asian thief? A mainland conman? A sleazy oriental? Wang Yang shook his head with a smile and declined her advice courteously. “No thanks, I don’t think acting is in my blood.”
“Oh, come on, Miranda!” Jessica forced out a laugh and said somewhat raucously, “You haven’t even seen Wang Yang’s movie. How can you say it’s not practical? It’s a really scary movie, and it’s unlike anything out there.”
Although Jessica had spoken out of turn, Miranda wasn’t angry at all. She told Jessica gently as she patted her hand, “Jessica, I’m just an agent. It’s up to me to decide if a film is good or bad. All I can do is recommend his film. Sadly, all the companies that I can recommend have already decided to pass up on Yang’s movie.”
“It’s all right, it’s all right!” Wang Yang waved an airy hand, smiling. It was not that he wasn’t even the slightest disappointed. After having dozens of companies disparage his idea to his face, Miranda’s response held few surprises.
After all, no matter which film company they were dealing with, the most important thing was the movie itself. The managers at publishing companies couldn’t care less who recommended the script. If it worked, it worked. The market decided, not them. Connections were second only to survival. If they caved in to peer pressure and released a movie that jeopardized their company’s profit and reputation, they would be the ones on the chopping block.
Therefore, it made little difference whether it was him or other people that recommended his movie. Of course, in the latter scenario, the managers would be kinder and more patient in their critique and watch the movie out of courtesy before giving a resounding “no.”
“I’m sorry, Yang,” said Jessica gloomily. She’d really wanted to help Wang Yang. In fact, seeing Wang Yang succeed was what she’d wanted for her birthday all along.
“Hey guys, are you done chatting?” Jessica’s mother, Cathy, came into the living room just in time. She smiled at the trio and said, “Jessica, everyone’s waiting for you outside.”
Wang Yang leaped to his feet and said jovially, “Come on, Jessica. Let’s not keep everyone waiting.” Jessica pulled herself together, made a smile, stood up, and said, “Okay, time to party!”
“Happy birthday to you; happy birthday to you; happy birthday, dear Jessica; happy birthday to you!”
There they were, clustered around a long table in the patio under a colorful canopy of ribbons and balloons. All eyes were on Jessica as she stood in front of a tall, three-layer birthday cake in the middle of the table. Everyone was smiling joyfully, clapping their hands gently to the tune as they sang happy birthday. Equally excited was Danny the Labrador, who circled between the guests’ legs with his long tongue hanging from his mouth.
“Jessica, make a birthday wish!” Joshua held his DV camcorder close to his face, making sure to capture every sight and sound of the party, especially now that the birthday party had come to its grand finale: the silent wish followed by the blowing out of candles.
“Okay.” Jessica clasped her hands and looked around the table at her loved ones—her father and her family looking benevolently at her, her neighbors smiling kindly at her, her friends turning their excited faces to shine at her, Joshua the lovable rascal, Jack Frank, who came uninvited, Erin, her friend from acting school… and Wang Yang, gracing her with the warmest of smiles.
Jessica broke into a dainty little smile. She closed her eyes, and wished with all her heart, “Dear Lord, I wish for my family and friends to be healthy and happy always, for myself to land a role in a movie and stop flunking auditions—oh, and by the way, please let Wang Yang’s movie be chosen by a film company, so that it may reach the silver screen and make a killing at the box office… wait, did I make too many wishes?” She thought for a second, and then said to herself, “Who cares? Dear Lord, please promise me…”
After making her wish, she opened her eyes, took a deep breath, and blew on the 17 candles on the cake. She huffed and puffed enthusiastically, and in no time at all, all 17 of the candles were extinguished. A wide, happy smile hung on her face.
“Happy Birthday, Jessica!” Boisterous celebrations filled the air. Everyone cheered and clapped as they gave Jessica their blessings on her sweet 17.