Toys Go Out: Being the Adventures of a Knowledgeable Stingray, a Toughy Little Buffalo, and Someone Called Plastic

CHAPTER SIX

It Is Difficult to Find the Right Birthday Present

The Little Girl’s birthday is in a week. She will be seven. There are big plans. A party, a cake, a piñata. Friends are coming over.

“Seven is old,” muses Plastic, as she and StingRay look out the window one day while the Girl is at school. “Will she be a grown-up soon?”

“No,” says StingRay. “How can you tell?”

“You’re not a grown-up until you’re at least eight.” StingRay taps the windowpane with her flipper for emphasis.

“How old are you?” Plastic wants to know.

“When you’re eight, you can drive a limousine,” StingRay explains,

“and you brush your teeth without being

reminded,

and you can read all the words in the

dictionary, no matter how long.

You have lots of money to buy all the

chocolate you want,

and poofy dresses and cool soccer shoes,

plus anything blue that strikes your fancy.

But not when you’re seven.”

“How old are you?” asks Plastic again.

“That doesn’t matter,” says StingRay. “What matters is how much stuff I know. People who know a lot of stuff don’t need birthdays.”

… …

“I’m having a party for my toys,” the Little Girl tells her three best friends. “In the morning, before the kids come over. With my tea set and a real cupcake. Everybody is invited.”

They begin whispering as soon as the Girl leaves for school. “Who’s included in Everybody?” Lumphy wonders.

“Just everybody,” says Plastic.

“Does it mean me?”

“Of course.”

“Does it mean the toy mice?”

“I think so.”

“What about the rocking horse? He can’t sit at the table.”

“Oh, um …” Plastic rolls side to side a bit, not answering.

“Everybody is us three, the toy mice, and the one-eared sheep,” explains StingRay. “That’s who’s invited.”

“That’s all?” says Lumphy. “I feel bad about the horse.”

“Well, maybe the horse can come,” says StingRay. “We could have the party over in his corner.”

“What about Frank?” wonders Lumphy. “What about TukTuk?”

“Frank has to stay in the basement,” StingRay points out.

“TukTuk probably wouldn’t even want to come,” says Plastic. “It’s not a towel kind of thing. She likes to do stuff with the other towels.”

“I think she’d want to,” says Lumphy. “She’s the Little Girl’s towel.”

“If you invite one towel, you have to invite them all,” StingRay explains. “The Girl has to keep the party down to a manageable size.”

… …

“What are you giving her?” Frank asks Lumphy, one afternoon when the buffalo is having maple syrup washed off in the basement.

“Giving who?” asks Lumphy.

“The Girl. You should give the Girl a present if you’re going to her birthday party.”

“I don’t think she expects one.”

“You have to get her something,” says Frank. “It’s manners.”

Lumphy is worried now. “What can I get?”

“Well, what does she love most?”

“I don’t know!” cries Lumphy.

“Rrgaaaaah,” says the Dryer, interrupting.

“She wishes she could go to the party,” explains Frank. “We never go anywhere.” He drains out his water tank and starts the spin cycle. “It’s the loneliest life.”

“Mrrrmmmnnnnh,” says the Dryer soothingly. “Mrrmnnaaaaaah.”

“True,” says Frank. “We have each other.”

… …

As soon as he is clean and dry, Lumphy calls Plastic and StingRay to a meeting on the windowsill. “We have to give her a present,” he announces. “It’s manners for birthday parties.”

“Ooooh!” cries StingRay. “I know! Let’s give her an airplane,

and a ball gown,

and a big-screen, flat-screen, giant jumbo

television, and some gummy bears.

She’ll be so surprised.”

“Great,” says Plastic. “Now, where do we get an airplane?”

“I know where. Don’t worry about that,” says StingRay. “How much money do we have?”

Plastic thinks for a moment. “We don’t have any. Let’s get the ball gown instead. Or do we need money for that, too?”

“We need money for everything” answers Lumphy.

“You’re right!” cries Plastic in distress. “And even if we did have money, we can’t get to the store because we’re not eight yet, and we can’t drive!”

“What does she love most?” asks Lumphy. “That’s what we should get her.”

“New plan!” announces StingRay. “We’re finding a present in the house.”

… …

The night before the birthday, StingRay only pretends to go to sleep with the Little Girl. Really, she flops down onto the shaggy rug and organizes a serious present hunt. “Don’t come back without a quality gift!” she commands Plastic and Lumphy, standing on her tail and flapping her flippers.

Plastic is assigned to search the living room. It’s mainly grown-up stuff, but she finds some books that look interesting, and a potted marigold. She can’t move them, though, without arms or legs. She bounces back upstairs and asks the toy mice to help her. They do, but they’re quite crabby about it. They insist that their names go on the card if the books or the marigold get chosen to be the present.

Lumphy is in charge of the basement. There’s not a lot down there. He finds a can of creamed corn among the cardboard boxes, and carries it upstairs in his mouth. His jaw feels stiff by the time he gets back to the bedroom.

StingRay searches the closets. She almost gets squashed when a pile of sweaters falls on her head, and she bangs her flipper in a door, but she comes up with a blue T-shirt, a purse with snaps on it, and a hairbrush.

When the items are piled in the center of the shaggy rug, the toys sit all three together, thinking. “The best present is what she would love most,” says Lumphy. “Is there anything here?”

“She likes blue,” says StingRay. “The blue T-shirt is good.”

“I think it’s you that likes blue,” says Plastic, with a gentle cough.

“Everyone likes blue,” says StingRay. “It’s the best color.”

“But she already owns that shirt,” says Plastic. “She wore it yesterday.”

“She owns the books, too,” points out Lumphy. “And the purse. And the marigold.”

“And the hairbrush. And the corn!” moans Plastic. “This is terrible!” cries StingRay. “Why didn’t I think of this? She’s going to be angry. She’s going to cry because she’s got no present,

and she’ll throw the pillows at us,

and call us names,

and never invite us to any

of her parties again,

all because we couldn’t find what she

would love most,

or even a second-rate present

on her birthday.”

“I don’t know about that,” says Plastic.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re her best friends. She said so at show-and-tell.”

“So?”

“She wouldn’t throw pillows at her best friends.”

“If we’re her best friends,” says Lumphy, sadly, “we should know what she would love most.”

“You’re right,” says Plastic. “We should.”

But Plastic doesn’t know.

And StingRay doesn’t, either.

They sit there in silence for seven minutes and twenty-two seconds. Then, in a flash, Lumphy thinks he knows. His idea is such a good one that he waggles his tail stump with excitement and claps his buffalo forefeet together before scampering off in search of wrapping paper.

… …

On the morning of her birthday, the Little Girl wakes up to find two funny-shaped packages, and one perfectly round package, sitting on the windowsill of her room. Two are tied up with green ribbon, and one is tied up with blue. Neither of the grown-ups is awake yet. The Girl gets up in bare feet. “Presents!” she cries, scooping all three into her arms and setting them on the bed.

She unwraps the small, round one first. “What a beautiful, fat ball you are!” she says, hugging Plastic to her chest. Plastic wants to bounce, she is so happy, but she keeps still so the Girl won’t see how excited she is.

The bumpy package is next. “Oh, it’s you, you sweetie, sweetie buffalo!” cries the Girl as Lumphy comes out of the tissue paper. Lumphy doesn’t mind the sweetie sweetie thing, even though he is tough, because he gets several extra kisses.

Finally, the Little Girl unwraps the flat package. “You even used blue ribbon!” she laughs, squeezing StingRay hard. “My favorite!”

“I told you so,” whispers StingRay from her position on the Girl’s lap. “It’s just the best color.”

… …

The birthday party is a great success. TukTuk is invited after all. In fact, she serves as a tablecloth!

The Girl has laid out her china tea set in front of the rocking horse in the corner. There is a nosegay of flowers, and she serves real chamomile tea. There are cups and saucers enough for everyone, even all the toy mice.

In front of the Girl is a special cupcake, decorated with white frosting and a blue rose. She cuts it with a butter knife. “Happy birthday, Lumphy!” she says, serving him a slice and a cup of tea. “You know, it’s your birthday, too, today.”

Lumphy is surprised, but he chuckles to himself.

“And happy birthday, Plastic!” says the Girl.

“Am I one already?” wonders Plastic.

StingRay looks up at the Girl, expecting to be next. But the Girl is busy. She’s serving tea and cupcake to Sheep, Plastic, the rocking horse, TukTuk, and the toy mice. “Three birthdays all on the same day?” whispers StingRay. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Who cares?” says Plastic.

“I like having a birthday,” says Lumphy.

“Is this banana cake?” Sheep sniffs at her piece.

Everyone has cake but StingRay. “I don’t think the Girl knows what she’s talking about,” whispers StingRay. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“I think it might be vanilla,” says Lumphy.

“Will there be seconds?” the sheep wonders aloud.

“It’s not like I care,” adds StingRay. “I don’t need a birthday.”

“And now,” announces the Little Girl, “a very special happy birthday to my extra-best friend, StingRay!” She cuts off the piece of cupcake with the blue frosting rose on it, and serves it onto StingRay’s plate. “Lumphy, I got you when I turned five. Then you, Plastic, when I turned six! But I’ve had StingRay since I turned four.” She reaches over and scratches where the ears would be, if StingRay had ears. “I hope you all have the best birthdays in the world.”

“Ooohhh,” cries StingRay, leaning into the scratch. “It’s my birthday, too!”

“Happy birthday,” says Lumphy.

“And she gave me the frosting rose.”

“ ’Cause it’s your birthday!” cries Plastic.

“Yes, it is,” says StingRay. “Didn’t I tell you before?”

… …

Late that night, when StingRay and the Little Girl are supposedly asleep in the big high bed, Plastic and Lumphy hear a song coming from up there.

“Sting-RAY, diddle-eye-oh,

Birth-DAY, diddle-eye-ee,

Who’s got a birthday? StingRay, StingRay!

Diddle-eye, Diddle-ee,

That means me!”

If Lumphy stands on tiptoe, he can see StingRay’s flippers waving around in a dance.