When I opened my presents Jennifer knelt up on her chair in order to see what I was getting for my birthday until her mom told her to sit back down. I knew she wanted to see so I held up each thing toward her as I opened it. Some of the people in the restaurant clapped at each present. Others just kept eating and looked at their plates because they had sung to me and now didn’t want to get any more involved with my party. It was the Italians who clapped and the German family who kept on eating. Jennifer’s parents smiled and nodded, and Jennifer clapped for the first present, which was a pair of flippers—swim fins.

When I opened my big present, Jennifer didn’t clap because she was jealous. I could see that. She just sat down and wouldn’t look over anymore. That’s because this was a real boy’s present, and she knew that she would never be allowed to borrow it, maybe not even be allowed to touch it.

It was a spear gun. Not a little toy but one with a spring-loaded spear with three steel barbed prongs. It had a safety catch like a real weapon, a nylon string attaching the spear to the gun so the fish wouldn’t swim away with your spear stuck in him, a heavy grip, and a brass trigger. The spring that shot out the spear was so powerful that to load the gun I had to lean all my weight on the barrel to push it down on the metal shaft of the spear until it clicked into place once the spring was compressed inside. Then I would snap on the safety. Dad showed me how and he told me not to unsnap it until I saw the fish I was going to shoot.

Mom said, “Oh, Ralph, it looks awfully dangerous.”

“It is, Elsa, it’s a real weapon.”

My sisters looked afraid of it. Janet said, “Don’t ever have that thing near me!”

“He won’t be allowed to keep it except when he’s going to go out and use it,” said Dad.

Mom and Janet and Rachael all exchanged grownup girl glances and looked at Dad and me as if we were both little boys and they knew things we didn’t and were a lot more mature. But I didn’t care, I had the gun.

I’d wanted a spear gun since I was about five or six. Dad always said that he’d get me one when I was old enough not to kill myself with it. Now I was old enough.