The Birthday Present

He awoke with a start. He knew he had been having a beautiful dream but as soon as he tried to commit it to memory, it floated away like a wisp of smoke. It made him feel deflated, and more so, because he remembered today was his birthday. Forty-two – again. As with each passing birthday it made him feel reflective about his life. What had he accomplished, what were his greatest achievements and the biggest mistakes? What could he have done differently if he had it to do over again?

The dawn was just beginning to spread a grey light outside the facing window, as he propped himself up in bed and turned his attention to the day ahead. A busy day at work, filled with tedious meetings and a long luncheon with clients. The evening would be pleasant with a birthday dinner with his children and their families. He just felt so weary, he wasn't even sure he could drag himself out of bed and into the shower.

As the sun began to rise more and the shapes in the room became more clearly defined, he experienced the most peculiar sensation. His skin started tingling, first in his hair then down his face and neck and through the rest of his body down to his toes. Suddenly he felt a lightness as if he was being spirited out of his body and floating on a bed of air. For a moment he thought he must have died, but he wasn't feeling any pain anywhere, and anyway he had just recently had a check up and been pronounced in good health. The tingling sensation ceased and was followed by a warm flush throughout his entire body. He pushed himself more upright against the pillows and felt his weight against the soft cotton sheets once more. "Whew," he thought, "That was weird, I must be having a mid life crisis or something."

There was a movement in the bed next to him, and he turned to see a sleeping form with a thick mass of silky, auburn hair showing above the duvet. What on earth was going on, who was this person, how did they get into bed with him? He was certain he would have noticed if there had been a sleeping body in his bed the night before. He remembered distinctly that he had been exhausted, and had just collapsed and fallen asleep immediately. It had been another killer day, and his only thought had been to get a good night's sleep. He glanced at the clock which silently informed him it was indeed 6:00 a.m. and he had in fact slept the entire night without waking and worrying once. In itself an unusual event.

The shape began to uncurl and long arms appeared and stretched. It was a young girl with a serenely beautiful face, perfectly symmetrical with high cheekbones and full lips. Now she opened hazel eyes and fixed him with an intense stare. He stared back, for once in his life, devoid of speech. She smiled up at him and said, "Hi, I'm Crystal! I'm your birthday present." He started to stammer, "What do you mean? I have to go to work! I have things to do, I don't have time for playing around!" She smiled more widely at him, saying, "Don't worry, time is on hold. You have until midnight to simply have fun! In this magical time warp you can travel to any age in your life, you can be anything or anybody you would like. You can do anything you choose. Afterwards, your life will continue as usual, but you will remember everything that has happened."

He tried to process this information in his usual speedy fashion. His brain seemed to have ground to a halt, because the only question that came into his mind was "Where did you come from?"

"Oh," she said, "I was sent to you by a mutual friend who cares about you and has amazing powers." He ran his fingers through his hair and noticed a different feel to the texture, it seemed thicker somehow. He reached out tentatively to touch the arm of this apparition to see if she was real. He felt soft, creamy skin beneath his fingers, and not only that, but his own hand seemed smoother, unblemished and without wrinkles or raised veins. The scar from the stab wound had vanished. He turned his hand over to study it more carefully. Crystal laughed then, a musical, joyful sound.

"Yes, our friend thought you might like to be twenty-one years old!" He looked down at his own bare chest where the hair was no longer tinged with grey, his stomach was flat and muscled. His eyes ran up his arms again where his biceps bulged. He must of course be still dreaming. He shook his head trying to clear it, and rubbed his eyes, and yet after doing so, everything remained the same. He felt the urge to laugh bubble up from deep inside him, and before he could stop it, he was laughing out loud with tears streaming down his cheeks. "Oh my gosh, this is incredible, totally amazing, I can't believe it." He managed to say, while wiping away the tears from his smooth cheeks. It felt so good to laugh, he realized that it was maybe the first time he had felt the freedom to laugh in such a joyous uninhibited way.

Crystal sat cross-legged on the bed and asked him, "What would you like to do first? Perhaps you could take a shower while I go and fix your favourite breakfast for you? Or maybe you would like it if I scrubbed your back for you in the bath tub?" Well, he thought, if I'm dreaming this is the best dream I have ever had! "Hmm, I think I will take a shower, and breakfast sounds wonderful."

"I know exactly what to make for you." She answered. With that she leapt gracefully from the bed clad only in boxer shorts and a sparkling top with spaghetti straps.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and looked down at his own strong, youthful legs. He headed for the bathroom and immediately studied himself in the mirror. It was true, there was his reflection looking back at him, and definitely only twenty-one years old! The smile on his face broadened, and he saw himself as a happy, carefree individual, someone he hadn't known for a very long time. He didn't feel any of the burden of worry and care that had been his partner in life for so many years. He felt light and buoyant in a way he had never experienced before. He quickly shaved, enjoying how smooth and firm his skin felt, then he entered the shower and started soaping himself. Before he realized it he was singing an aria with the clear, resonant voice of Pavorotti. He could hardly believe it, his voice had never sounded so fine before. He ran up and down the scales a few times and discovered he had perfect pitch.

He spent quite a long time enjoying singing in the shower, but finally he began to feel some pangs of hunger and stepped out to dry himself off. There was a pile of clothes folded neatly on the corner chair. They looked familiar, not new but comfortably worn. "Oh my God! My favourite blue jeans from college, but surely I would never be able to get into those again." He thought. They slid up over his slim hips and buttoned without the tiniest hint of a problem.

He followed the aroma of cooking smells and was greeted in the kitchen by a table laden with all his favourite breakfast foods. Crystal was humming to herself as she set the dishes and napkins in place. He was surprised at how voracious his appetite was, and she sat across from him with obvious pleasure, watching as he enjoyed his meal. "So what would you like to do next?" She asked. His answer came immediately without thinking. "I'd like to ride a horse in the mountains at Javaline Peak in Arizona."

"No problem!" she replied," Just close your eyes for a few seconds." He was happy to oblige and sat back in the chair with a silly grin spreading across his face.

"O.K." she said, "Open your eyes." He was sitting in his grandmother's kitchen, everything about it exactly the way it had always been. He jumped from the chair and looked out of the window. It was a beautiful, sunny day outside with a few fluffy white clouds. The view towards the mountains was just as he always pictured it in his mind. In the distance there was a dusting of snow covering the crest. He rushed outside and there waiting by the corral fence was his faithful, friend, Dan, who whinnied at him the way he always did. He ran the short distance and vaulted over the fence, throwing his arms around the old horse's neck and burying his head against the coarse, wiry, coat. He spent a long time just breathing in the special smell that is unique to horses. Dan nuzzled against him and it was as if they had never been separated. He stood back and admired Dan's strong chest, four white stockings and white blaze. "Boy, you look fantastic, old friend." He said appreciatively. The horse gave him a knowing look and twitched his small ears back and forth.

Crystal appeared behind him and handed him a carrot, which Dan accepted contentedly. "Would you like to ride alone, or would you like company?" She asked. He thought for a moment, he had spent so many hours of his childhood traversing the trails in the mountains, just him and his horse. It would be wonderful to do that again. At the same time he wanted to share this experience with someone and so replied, "I'd love to show you the view from up there, if you'd like to join me."

Soon he was back in the saddle again, its familiar feel fitting beneath him as if molded to his body. He ran his hands over the soft old leather remembering the story behind each scratch. Here was one of his early repair jobs, and here another where his stitching had improved. He continually stroked the horse's long sorrel neck and shoulder as they made their way along the well travelled trail up towards the left side of the mountain. They passed so many landmarks, unchanged by time. Everything in its place the way it was supposed to be. Dan marched on in his sure-footed way, and he was so entranced by the journey that he forgot for a while that he had company.

When he remembered he had a companion he turned to check and see how she was doing. Crystal was riding along, unobtrusively, in a very relaxed manner. She was wearing black leather jeans and a turquoise shirt knotted at the waist. Her long, thick auburn hair was lit up by the sunlight and all the colors seemed to blend perfectly with the little black mare she was riding. He reined in and called back to ask her if she would like to stretch her legs soon. She said whatever he wanted to do was fine with her. They would soon be approaching the rim, and he chose this spot to stop so that the horses could graze on the tufts of grass. They dismounted and walked around to enjoy the view over the plains and desert below. They sat on the edge of the hill, hugging their knees and just looked over the vast landscape spread out beneath them. There seemed no need to comment, it was all so perfect. He didn't feel a need to question why this was happening, or how it had come about, he just wanted to enjoy each moment to the fullest. When they began to wind their way back down the mountains to the ranch, the sun was low in the sky and casting dramatic shadows from the rocks and prickly pear along the way. It was breathtakingly beautiful, the more so because he had not seen it this way for such a very long time.

The sun was beginning to set while he was taking care of the horses. When he had finished he discovered that Crystal had prepared a camp fire and barbecue and there was his own guitar resting against a fallen log. After they had finished their meal and dusk was descending he picked up the guitar. He hadn't played it for a long time and hated to play badly. He tried strumming a few cords and before he realized it he was playing some country and western tunes he hardly even remembered. Music seemed to flow from his guitar and his fingers found cords as if guided by an inner force. He couldn't believe it, he almost sounded as good as Eric Clapton, the self-pronounced greatest guitarist who ever lived. Crystal was grinning at him while she sat perched on a low tree branch. She was swinging her legs, encased in the black jeans and cowboy boots, in time to the music. He played on, all his old favourite tunes coming surging back into his memory.

After a while, she asked, "Would you like to dance with me?"

"Well," he hung his head shyly "I kind of suck at dancing!"

"No you don't, you'll see." She said. "But who will play for us?" he asked. "Don't worry about these details." She replied. She took his hand, and from somewhere in the trees a band started to play, and suddenly they were the 1970's equivalent of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. His boots were tapping in time to the music and she was twirling at the end of his outstretched arm, her fingers entwined with his. Each time he would send her out to spin in time to the music's rhythm and then bring her back to him, then send her spinning around again with her hair swirling out around her. The leather jeans shining in the subdued light were like a second skin and her own skin was glowing from the heat they were generating and the dying embers of the camp fire. Her obvious joy was infectious as he caught her around the waist and held her close for a moment before sending her out on an extended arm and back towards him again and again. The light from the fire played across her happy face and lit up her hair with a sparkling iridescence. There were some slow songs then and he held her close with his right arm around her waist and clasping her hand with his left one. They were dancing in such perfect harmony it was almost as if her body was floating and her feet not even touching the hard ground beneath.

They danced until the moon was high in the sky and then tumbled delightfully exhausted onto the sun-warmed earth, to lean against the gnarled trunk of a tree. She leant her head against his shoulder and he placed his arm around her and breathed in the clean, healthy fragrance from her shining hair. They sat watching the embers from the fire smoldering before them, and it felt as if all was at peace in the world.

After a long while the night air began to feel cool, so he said, "I suppose I need to head home again."

"Well, I would love to see your boat" she replied. "And, I would love to show it to you." He said happily.

Once more she told him to close his eyes, and the next thing he knew they were leaning on the railing of the deck of the Island Breeze and watching the lights of San Francisco twinkle in the distance. The evening was cool and breezy, but only a little misty. She didn't object when he placed his arm around her again and snuggled closer to him so that his warmth spread over them both. After a while he began to feel sleepy after the long day in the Arizona sun, and he took her hand and lead her into the state room. She followed him willingly and curled up next to him on the bed like a contented kitten, he pulled off her boots for her and kicked his own onto the gleaming wooden floor.

As they lay together he stroked her arm and then her satiny cheek. She responded by turning her face up towards him and at the same time slid her hand beneath his shirt and around his back. "Well, David," she said, "What birthday would be complete without you making mad passionate love?" He smiled down at her and ran his hands down her smooth hair and on to her shoulders. "I must just go to the bathroom though." He left her curled up on the bed while he went to the bathroom, and since he felt sticky from riding for the best part of the day, he called through the door, "I'm just going to take a quick shower."

"Don't be too long, time is running out." She called back.

He shaved again, humming to himself and enjoying once more seeing the handsome face looking back at it him from the mirror. Then he jumped into the hot shower and basked in the steam letting the water run over his muscular shoulders. He imagined sliding his hands down the leather pants she was wearing. Gently undoing the snap at the top and unzipping them so that he could fit his hand down inside and feel what hidden treasure lay beneath. He longed to place his hands on her ample breasts, run his fingers down her flat stomach and explore every inch of her gorgeous body, slowly and carefully. His heart quickened with these thoughts and he felt his manhood begin to swell.

He found himself singing a soliloquy in Italian from an opera, but couldn't immediately identify what he was singing. When he turned off the water and began to rub himself briskly with the towel, he heard a beautiful lilting soprano voice coming from the bedroom. Suddenly he recognized the music, it was Violetta's love song to Rudolpho, and without thinking his own voice sang back in return in a magnificent baritone he had never imagined possessing before. It was the first time he had sung a duet with a woman, and his chest expanded effortlessly as their voices blended and intertwined between the rooms. The duet ended as he wrapped the towel around his waist and returned to the bedroom.

Crystal was lying back against the pillows with her lovely long hair spread out around her. He went over and sat on the edge of the bed picking up her hand in his, but she didn't move. Then she said quietly, "I'm so sorry, David. My energy is leaving me. There wasn't enough time to fit everything in that you wanted to do. I'm so very sorry." Now he realized, of course: La Traviata.

He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to him cradling her in his arms. His throat was so tight he could barely squeeze the words out, his eyes felt swollen and hot. "It's all right Crystal, I had the most perfect day ever, it's all right."

"We just wanted you to get to make love on the beach under the moonlight once in your life." She told him sadly. "You know don't you, that you will always be young at heart. It doesn't matter if your body has aged, your soul is what matters. Your love of life, these things will keep you young forever."

Then she closed her eyes and he felt her breathing slow as she slept with her head against his chest. He held her tight not wanting to lose one single magical moment of the time they could spend together. Eventually he lapsed into sleep himself.

When he next awoke he was back in his own bedroom and the clock told him it was 6:00 a.m. He knew without looking that he was alone once more. Had it all been a dream after all? He jumped quickly out of bed and rushed to the bathroom mirror. He sighed when he saw his own familiar face return his stare. At first he felt the age weighing down on him again. But then he thought about Crystal's last words to him. "Your love of life will keep you young forever." He found there was a new bounce to his stride, and even though his voice was not as resonant as it had been previously, he still enjoyed lifting it up and sending it out into the bathroom while he was taking his shower.

As he walked out of the house to his truck he noticed hanging in the hall, a pair of chaps and a cowboy hat. Placed neatly beneath them were his old worn cowboy boots. As he drove to his office he sang along to oldies but goodies from 1974, and thought that his voice actually did sound pretty good after all.

He felt a new energy in his step when he arrived at work. He beamed at his co-workers in a very atypical manner. He felt alive as he had not done for a long time. They all wished him happy birthday as he progressed along the hallway to his office. His secretary brought him a cup of coffee saying, "This was hand delivered to you early this morning."

He sipped at the coffee and turned the bulging white envelope over in his hand. Finally he slit it open and pulled out a single plane ticket, attached to it was a small post-it note saying, "Enjoy your birthday, enjoy your life. You are forever young." The envelope was not empty yet, and he shook out onto his desk a small pile of golden sand, a photograph of a deserted beach, and a single red hibiscus flower.