Jareth's Birthday- part 1 (Short Story)

Just at the beginning of Spring, in the early morning and on the day of Jareth’s birthday, Ruby returned with the kids.

Cole Gublenn was knelt on the kitchen floor with his cheek against Nigel’s thigh, still dressed in his silk pajamas and white bed-socks. He breathed deep and slow through his nose as Nigel’s fingers slid through his hair.

It was a month after Cole returned from his mother’s home, and Nigel had stayed at his estate for the past three nights while Cole prepared Jareth's birthday celebration- of which would be televised and heavily photographed. Jareth’s birthday celebration would be their first official appearance since the article, as well as an announcement that Jareth would be creating a new album by Fall. Cole had only gotten two hours of sleep.

While Cole had his hair stroked tenderly and slowly, he circled Nigel’s knee with his finger in increments of three. On the third circle, he would go in the opposite direction.

“I forgot to fetch the estate map from the printers,” Cole said.

“Shh,” Nigel said.

Cole shifted his head against Nigel’s thigh, feeling the plush fabric of his pajama pants against his cheek.

“An extra trip on our way is all,” Nigel said, and tucked a piece of Cole’s hair behind his ear.

“I’d like to go now, Nigel,” Cole muttered.

“Oh I’m sure. What then, you’ll be standing around waiting for something to do love.”

Cole let out a long sigh and reached up, snaking both arms around Nigel’s waist to hold him. This was a tenderness that only came from Cole in the early mornings.

Cole studied the pattern of Nigel’s pants while a distant bird in the garden chirped a morning song. The eggs and ham sizzled on top of the stove behind them.

And then, the bell rang.

Cole raised his head. He pictured what he looked like, getting stroked like a cat by another man. He cleared his throat and stood from the cold kitchen tile. Without looking at Nigel, he walked in his white socks to the front door. When he pulled the door open, Ruby stood waiting for him with their children.

Sonya was in a white sunday dress that Cole did not recall her having. She was glaring up at him and holding a small suitcase with Paddington's face painted on the side. Anthony was holding his mother’s skirt in a fist, and he was looking back at the front garden where a fountain was trickling. He too had a suitcase, but Ruby was holding it.

“God- by god Ruby,” Cole immediately said.

“Take your children Cole,” she said.

“Where the bloody hell have you been!”

He suddenly imagined what he looked like, unshaven and unshowered in his pajamas.

“Cole, take them, I can’t watch them anymore.”

“I can’t drop everything,”

Anthony’s suitcase was pressed into his chest. Then, Ruby pried Anthony’s fist from her skirt and turned to walk down the stairs of the front patio. Anthony began to whine.

“Ruby!” Cole called. He set down the suitcase and pressed past his children to pursue her, then turned, “Get in the house,” he said, “Ruby! For god sakes,”

Ruby didn’t reply.

“Where the hell have you been!”

Cole grabbed her wrist with a firm hand, then yanked her arm up to turn her.

“Look at me!” He yelled, “How dare you just bring them to me now- have you any idea-”

“Let go of me!”

Cole held her wrist tighter.

“Have you any idea the kind of worry you’ve-”

Ruby struck him across the face, and his cheek burned in the cold morning air. He immediately raised his hand to strike her back, and she turned her face away.

Cole breathed heavily, watching Ruby with furrowed brows and wide eyes as he held his hand in the air. The song bird was chirping, the front garden rose bushes rustled from the breeze, and Anthony was wailing on the porch. Cole dropped his arm and let go of Ruby’s wrist.

“God, Ruby,” he said, placing a hand on his hip and running his fingers through his hair.

“I’m not explaining anything to you,” she said.

“I cannot have this today, Ruby. I can’t watch them now, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“It’s Jareth’s birthday.”

Ruby stared at him with an expression Cole was unable to read.

“I don't care,” she said.

Cole stood and watched Ruby as she left. She walked quickly with her heels clacking on the stone pathway to the front gate. After the golden swirling gate was closed, he walked back to the front porch.

Anthony had sat down on a step to cry, and Sonya had already entered the house. Without saying anything, Cole knelt down and took his son under his arms, then grunted as he lifted the boy to place him on his hip.

“Anthony, you’re really too old to be crying like this…” he muttered.

Anthony was heavy, and uncomfortable. Cole leaned down to take Anthony’s suitcase, then stepped into the house.

“Because it’s a rather busy day today,” Nigel was saying as Cole entered the kitchen.

Sonya was already sitting at the kitchen table while Nigel stood at the stove preparing a breakfast for her- which had originally been Cole’s breakfast. Sonya sat with her suitcase on the table and kicked her feet.

“Don’t put this on the table,” Cole muttered, moving the suitcase.

“Why is it a busy day?” Sonya asked Nigel.

“Because it’s your uncle's birthday,”

“How old is he turning?”

“How old is Jareth turning?” Nigel asked Cole.

“Twenty nine,” Cole said, and sat down at the table beside Sonya. Anthony gripped Cole’s shirt and hid his face in it.

“I’m ten,” Sonya said.

“Are you really?” Nigel asked.

“Yes, and I’ll be eleven in July, during the summer.”

“That can’t be right now, last I saw you, you were five.”

“I was still ten!” Sonya said.

“I don’t think so,”

“How old are you?” Sonya asked Nigel.

“Sonya,” Cole said, and she stopped kicking her feet. “That’s terribly rude.”

“I’m forty,” Nigel said, and Cole’s brows furrowed.

“Don’t tease her, Nigel,” Cole said, staring at the back of Nigel’s curly hair.

Nigel turned, spatula in hand, grinning at Cole. His stache was perfectly curled on either end despite having yet to style it.

“Didn't know I was a dirty old man?”

“You’re not forty,” Cole said.

“I’ve got grays in me hair, Cole.”

Cole didn’t reply.

“You’re so old!” Sonya said.

“Sonya,” Cole scolded.

Nigel chuckled.

Cole reached up, rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb. He didn’t like how old Nigel was. He didn’t like how that made him feel.

“Where did mom take you?” He asked.

“She took us on a plane to America- and it was a very long flight. It was terribly boring, really. And Anthony threw up twice while we were on it, and mom had to take him to the bathroom because it was making everyone else mad. And then after we landed she took us to Aunt Lila’s.”

“She took you to see her sister?”

Anthony shifted on Cole’s thigh and whined, beginning to fuss. Cole patted his back.

“Mhm, and she was very beautiful, she had blonde hair and she talked like a movie actor-”

“Was her brother there?” Cole asked.

“No,” Sonya said, “But she had three cats and all of them were white like duchess.”

Cole let his head fall back in his chair, realizing that the children’s rooms were not prepared for their stay, he had yet to wash their sheets which had surely collected dust.

“Why is Nigel here?” Sonya asked.

“Sonya, you are allowed three more questions today,” Cole said, placing his palm over his eyes.

“Because your father can’t make his own breakfast,” Nigel said.

“Really?” Sonya said, smiling.

“Yes,”

After breakfast, Cole stood at the front entrance with his hands on his hips.

“Hurry up!” He called up the stairs, “We’ll be off within the minute.”

Nigel walked in from the sitting room, his dark green tie crooked. Cole stepped forward to straighten it, tugging it at the knot. He could feel Nigel’s smile.

“Happy to see them?”

“I’d be happier if it wasn’t today, really. They can’t possibly stay during the party.”

“I’ll take em home after we’ve set up,” Nigel said.

“No-” Cole said, looking up at Nigel while still holding his tie, “No you’re playing piano for the birthday song,”

“Any old bastard can play it.”

“No, we planned it to be you- and that is how it will appear in the photographs. It’s supposed to be you, that’s what we planned.”

“Alright. I can take them home when I’ve finished.”

“Where on earth will they stay during? We can’t have children running around- They’ll be absolutely impossible to find.”

“Vinnie can watch em while it’s going on. Up in the guest room.”

Cole scoffed, and Nigel tilted his head so Cole would look at him. Cole flicked his eyes up to Nigel through his furrowed brows.

“By the late evening it’ll all be done,” Nigel said, “and I can have my way with you then.”

Cole’s face flushed, and he gave Nigel a stern look. When the thunking of Sonya’s shoes came down the stair steps Cole let go of Nigel’s tie and put his hands in his pockets. Anatole then came down the stairs one step at a time, looking down at his shoes.

Sonya reached up to take Cole’s hand, and he reached back. Then suddenly, he pulled it away, thinking of the grease from breakfast that Sonya had neglected to wash off. His white gloves would be stained.

He pat her head, then turned the front door knob three times and opened it for her.

In the grand front entrance, Cole plastered a professionally printed map of the estate layout with the rooms numbered. At the bottom right corner of the map was a key with each and every individual’s name written next to their respective room number. The chefs, the cater waiters, the security, the hired photographers, the maids, and the Gublenn staff were all written.

After the map was up, Cole was brought into the kitchen where a five tier disco cake decorated with buttercream sunflowers and a figure of Jareth at the top awaited his approval. This was the cake to be served to the guests, and was edible.

The second cake- which was not edible- was a single tier, rounded cake with light blue frosting and white swirl lining. In the middle read; Happy Birthday Jareth. This is the cake Jareth would blow out at the end of the night.

The decorations were finished three hours before the party, except for the three ice sculptures which would be arriving two hours later. Banners were strewn across the ceiling of every entrance, white and blue balloons filled the ceilings in thousands, and the furniture was shifted to grant further walk space for guests. Nigel’s grand piano had been rolled into the front entrance by the stairs so he could play music during the first half of the party. Then, the birthday song.

“Where in god’s sake is Jareth?” Cole asked Vinnie, who was sitting in the library with Anatole and Sonya.

“Sleeping still,” he said.

Cole raises his hand slightly then let them drop at his sides.

“He couldn’t possibly,” Cole said.

Ten minutes later, Jareth was coming down the stairs in his birthday attire with Cole trailing behind.

Two hours from the party, Cole guided the photographers at the map and explained the schedule of the party by hour. The schedule which guests would be unaware of if done smoothly.

On the last hour, the ice sculptures arrived and were carefully wheeled up each step to the front door. They then scattered, rolling into their respective assigned rooms. Except for the fourth, which was to be placed in the garden in front of the fountain. Cole followed the careful operation with his hands on his hips and his mustache prickling on his lip.

It was then that he noticed- some distance away- Sonya sitting on the thick branch of a willow tree with her feet dangling. She kicked them, talking down at Jareth and Vinnie who were sitting on a cement bench below with Anatole. She was wearing a dress, and a very nice one at that.

Cole pictured her falling, and breaking her leg. He then pictured her in hospital, wailing, while the party went on.

“Sonya!” Cole immediately called, taking his hands off his hips to jog over.

She looked down at him.

“Get down from there at once!”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I said so!”

She glared at him and stopped kicking her feet.

“Sonya! You’re going to come hurling down and break your leg! Then I’ll have to take you to hospital. Get down.”

“No you won’t!” she called back. “You certainly would not take me to hospital!”

“I most certainly would!”

“You’d have one of your servants take me!”

Cole’s chest puffed, his mustache prickled, and his brows furrowed.

“Sonya, you won’t be having any cake if you continue this way, and I will see to it that you are sent straight to bed when home!”

Sonya said nothing. She was scowling down at Cole, and he felt that she looked like her mother.

Sonya began to climb back down the tree in her dress, and Cole looked down at the grass as he waited for her. When she reached the lowest branch, Cole reached out for her and held her under her arms like a cat. When he placed her on the ground, he knelt down and held her shoulders.

“It is terribly indecent to climb a tree in a dress, and completely unlady-like. It is a feral thing to do Sonya, and you are not feral.”

Sonya said nothing.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she muttered.

Cole sighed and let her shoulders go. He then stood and checked his watch. The guests would begin arriving soon

“Take the children to the guest room,please,” Cole said to Vinnie.

“Okay,” Vinnie replied.

After the guests were well and drunk, after the samples had been passed around, after the horse rides were done, after the ice sculptures began to drip, it was time for the birthday song.

Every single guest in their nice evening suits and gowns cramped together on the wide sleek stairs around Jareth, who held his round birthday cake with twenty nine lighted candles. He stared down at the glow of the flame tips, which reflected in his eyes.

Nigel was sat at the piano, removing each white glove from his hands while twenty nine photographers waited. Cole stood leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and his expression focused, studying the scene and how it would appear in a picture.

When Nigel began to play, the crowd around Jareth rose into song with big smiles.

Cole breathed heavily and slowly. His eyes burned when he blinked and the undersides of his feet throbbed with his heartbeat. He wanted to let his head lay back against the wall, but he stayed standing straight up.

And as everyone sang, and Nigel played, and the photographers raised their cameras, Cole watched Jareth. He watched his blank expression and the warm glow of fire in his eyes. He watched how, when he was sang to, he stood very still and did not smile.

It was then, standing alone by the wall, that Cole realized that today was his birthday too.

Then, Jareth blew out his candles. Every camera flashed at once and the room turned white.

Nigel took the children home immediately after the song was finished. Cole took it upon himself to thank each and every guest for their attendance as they left.

“Just lovely, Where do you get your caterers?”

“I could hardly tell the sculptures were fake,”

“Such a wonderful way to see Jareth again,”

“You should look into an anual Christmas party,”

“So good to see Jareth again, best of luck to you both.”

And once every guest had driven from the property, Cole made his way back into the estate where the staff were already beginning to tear down banners and sweep the floors. Cole held the railing of the cold stair steps as he made his way to the second floor, down the corridors, and through the velvet floored hallway to Jareth’s bedroom.

He pressed one of the large doors, and it creaked slowly as it often did when Cole would come to see Jareth. The bedroom was dark, all except for a single bedside lamp with a red shade with fringe at the rim. Jareth was sitting on the edge of his bed, still dressed in his birthday attire, and surrounded by presents. Their glossy wrapping paper glistened red from the light, casing Jareth in. He was looking down at his felt otter hand-puppet.

Cole stood at the door with his hands in his pockets, and Jareth did not look up.

“Right, well we’ve gotten it out of the way haven’t we,” Coles said. Jareth stroked the arm of the puppet. “Will you be opening those tonight? I’d rather send for a maid to get the paper than let it lay about.”

Jareth said nothing, and Cole’s brows furrowed. For a very long time, Cole stood at the door and stared across the room at his brother, whose face was hidden by his long hair. Several clocks were ticking from all four corners of the room, and Cole felt his heart beating in the headache between his eyes.

Cole pictured Jareth blowing out his candles. He wondered if Jareth had even seen the decorations, if he had liked the food they had chosen, if he thought the cake was pretty, if he had greeted any guests. He wondered how many times Jareth had been told happy birthday.

“I hope you enjoyed your birthday, Jareth,” Cole said flatly.

Jareth looked up at him.

“Everything was for you.”

Then, Cole left.

Cole unlocked the front door (turning the key three times) and hung his coat on the coat hanger just beside the door. He stroked Nigel’s dark green corduroy jacket hanging one of the other hooks with  his gloved hand. Then, breathing heavily through his nose, he walked up the stairs step by step with his head hanging down.

The door to the nursery creaked as Cole peered inside. He held the door handle as he peered into the pastel mint room, lit softly by a nightlight in the shape of a star by Anatole’s bed. Their beds were on opposite sides of the room, one pink and one blue. Both of his children were asleep, and had been for some time.

Cole slipped off his shoes and abandoned them at the door. He entered the room in his socks, stepping quietly to Sonya’s bedside to adjust her polka dot patterned covers. He lifted them, tucking them around her with a particular care as to not wake her. He then knelt and rubbed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Her skin was smooth like silk against his knuckle. For a long time, he watched her face.

Anatole whined, and Cole turned his head to see a small hand outstretched from the bed across the room. He began to stand- both of his knees popped- and walked to meet Anatole. He offered two of his fingers for the boy to hold, then sat on the edge of his bed to rub his back until he fell asleep again.

Cole’s bedroom door was just slightly ajar at the end of the hallway. A warm slit of light stretched across the wooden floor boards. Nigel had stayed up for him, and Cole pictured that he would open the door to find Nigel half nude, in heels, wearing red lipstick. He felt a spite and loathing for Nigel.

He pressed his door open, looking at his bed with furrowed brows. It was empty.

The light to the bathroom flicked off and Cole turned to see Nigel dressed in a white wife beater and long pajama pants walking to him. His thick curly chest hair was just barely visible above the seam of the collar. He had a toothbrush in his mouth, and a small hand towel laid on his shoulder.

Cole sighed, through his nose, and his eyes became gentle.

Without saying anything, Nigel reached for Cole’s tie to begin loosening it. Then, button by button, he began to remove Cole’s vest.

“Nigel,” Cole said.

Nigel’s eyes flicked up to look at Cole, and Cole obediently silenced.

Tenderly, and with caring hands, Nigel removed every piece of Cole’s suit for him. He slid his vest off, opened his collared shirt, and unlatched his belt. Then, when he was done, he motioned to a folded red pajama set on the bed for Cole.

While Cole slipped into the silk pants and shirt, Nigel spit the foam in his mouth into the bathroom sink.

“Home late, later than I thought,” he said.

“Yes, well,” Cole responded.

“Did you manage to see Jareth?”
“Yes, I rather think… he was too tired to say good night. I’ll have to have someone open his presents tomorrow.”

“I’ll bet he wasn’t tired enough to draw himself a bath, tell the mucky bastard to open his own presents.”

Cole smiled. He sat down on his bed, feeling the foam beneath sink under his weight.

“I’ve got something for you,” Nigel said, shutting off the bathroom light and walking to the bed.

Cole watched him.

Without looking away, Nigel reached into the pocket of his pants, then squatted just in front of Nigel to show him a square black box. It was flat, like the type that jewelry came in. Cole’s brows furrowed, and he looked to Nigel who was grinning at him.

“Don’t tease me, Nigel.”

“I’m not, Cole.”

Nigel placed his warm palm on Cole’s knee and offered the box to him. Cole took it, carefully lifting the lid to reveal a square watch sitting on velvet fabric.

The rim was silver rather than gold, and the strap was a slim fit. It was sleek black leather. The arms of the clock were thin, and as Cole preferred, there were notches to indicate the precise time. Under the glass was the turquoise and dark blue of a peacock feather. A real peacock feather within the watch.

Cole carefully held the watch with his thumb and index finger, raising it from its bed to tilt it back and forth, watching how the feather glistened with the light. Then, he held it to his ear to listen for the ticking.

“It works,” Nigel said, grinning.

“I know- I know I only…” Cole muttered.

He looked at Nigel, and Nigel stared back.

“You didn’t have to do this. It's quite overly generous.”

“It’s your birthday.”

Cole placed the watch on his pillow and leaned down, placing his cheek in the space between Nigels shoulder and neck. Nigel wrapped his arms around Cole, rubbing his back slowly with his hand.

“You can’t stay here tonight,” Cole muttered.

“I’ve moved my things to the guest bedroom,” Nigel said.

“... Alright,” Cole said. He opened his mouth to say something again, but said nothing.

“Hmm?”

Cole shook his head.

“Aww, you had something to say,” Nigel said, leaning back so he could look at Cole’s sad face. “What is it?”

“You’re tired, Nigel.”

“Would you like me to stay with you until you’re asleep?”

Cole said nothing.

“You’ve got to ask me.”

Cole shook his head no, and Nigel’s grin faded. He reached up, holding the side of Cole’s cheek in his hand.

“Alright,” Nigel said.

When Cole fell asleep, Nigel carefully placed his head from his lap to a pillow. He pulled the sheets over him, kissed his cheek, then closed the door. And in four hours, Cole would be woken up by Sonya, who would ask when breakfast was.