Saffee remembers that her own birthday is coming. The one, she’s been told, that means she must soon attend something called kindergarten. She goes inside to the kitchen. Nels is nailing shelf supports onto a wall according to Joann’s carefully considered pencil markings.
“Daddy, when it’s my birthday, will you buy me a big ball?” Saffee asks.
Nels pounds the last nail and laughs. “A ball? What would you do with a ball?” he teases. He lifts a shelf to its place. “Balls are fer boys, ain’t they?” Teasing is Nels’s usual mode of communication with Saffee. It amuses him and aggravates her.
She turns to her mother. “Mommy, I saw some girls next door having a party. They were playing with a big, big ball. The girl who lives there is Midgie.”
“Nels!” Joann exclaims. “That top shelf tips to the right. Anything I’d put on that would roll right off.”
Saffee ambles out the back door to sit on the steps. She idly watches a robin hopping here and there in the grass. He cocks his head to listen, then pecks the ground. Hop, cock, peck. She admires his orange breast and beady, bright eyes and most of all his perkiness. If she could have this incredible creature for a pet, she would not be lonely.
At supper, Saffee asks Nels how she might go about catching a robin. He tells her the only sure way is to put salt on its tail. So easy! She is thrilled with the anticipation of capturing a friend.
The next morning Saffee finds Joann stirring bright yellow dye in a steaming galvanized tub that covers two burners of the gas stove. Eagerly, Saffee asks if she might have some salt. “Don’t bother me, Saffee. I’m dyeing sheets to make curtains and this dye’s very hot—stay away now.”
“But, Mommy, Daddy says if I put salt on a bird’s tail I can catch him! Pleeease give me some salt?”
Joann reaches into a cupboard. “Here,” she says, sprinkling a few stingy grains from a shaker into Saffee’s ready hand. “That’s enough.”
Saffee skips outside and sits on the step, waiting for her robin. Presently, a wren swoops down onto the grass and begins to search for tasty morsels. Well, any bird will do. Saffee darts at the wren, tossing salt in its direction. The bird takes flight, carrying with it Saffee’s hope for a friend. She tears back into the house.
“Mommy! It didn’t work, my bird flew away!”
Joann, stirring intently, doesn’t seem to hear.
“Happy Bir-ir-thday, Sa-pphire! Happy birthday to you!”
The family sits in the kitchen alcove brightened by windows newly curtained in yellow. Saffee blows out five candles. While Joann cuts the cake, Nels brings in a large pink balloon from the next room. Granted, it’s the biggest balloon Saffee has ever seen, but there is no escaping the fact that it is not a ball.
When their cake is finished, Joann washes April’s sticky fingers and Nels lifts her from her high chair. Brownie box camera in hand, Joann says, “Saffee, let’s go outside now and take a birthday picture of you and the new ball.”
Saffee picks up the balloon with both hands and follows. Under her breath she says, “It’s not a ball.”
“Me ball, Saffee?” April begs. “Pleeease?”
Nels notices a girl in the next yard and calls to her, “Are you Midgie? Come on over here. Have your picture taken with Saffee.”
Saffee pulls her shoulders up toward her ears. “Daddy! No!” she hisses. As far as Saffee is aware, no one in the family, least of all her, has yet spoken to anyone in the neighborhood.
Midgie slowly crosses to the Kvaales’ yard with a wary smile.
“Oh!” Joann has an idea. “Midgie, I’ve heard you have a great big ball too. Go get it for the picture.”
Midgie glances at Saffee’s balloon. “Well, okay,” she says hesitantly. The young neighbor goes back to her house and returns with her blue ball. Joann poses the two older girls and April, and then prominently places the ball and balloon in front of them on the grass.
“Smi-ile! Saffee, I said smile. Come on, big smile.” She snaps the picture. “There. Now, girls, you play nice,” Joann directs over her shoulder as she and Nels turn back to the house.
April jumps up and down, squealing, “Me ball! Me ball!”
Saffee picks up her balloon and steps a few feet away from Midgie. “Want me to throw it at you?” she asks.
“Sure,” says Midgie.
Saffee lifts her birthday present over her head and gives it a toss. “There.”
Immediately, a gentle breeze catches the balloon. The girls watch it float to the top of a tree and alight on a branch. Pop!
April stretches her short arms to the sky, calling, “Come back, ball! Come back, ball!”