Mr. Roberts stood there, daring to look into the phone and see the message. Darra's heart rate picked up, knowing there was only one number saved on it, which means that there could be only one person who sent him that message, Grace. He felt Grace as someone personal, the phone, being from Grace, made him think it was something he needed to keep out of people's hungry eyes, for he thought, everything connected to Grace that she shared with him, had to be kept personal, almost like a secret. 

He, therefore, thought of the phone as a precious secret to him, a pure light that needed to be kept out of everyone's eyes. "Wait!" He shouted, stopping Mr. Roberts from looking into the phone. "That's private! You can't just take it without permission, sir!" Even when under high stakes, he tried his best to be polite. He learned well from his mother, it's the least he could say. "When a man considers something private, it means they have a crush." He said, lightly smirking as he looked into the phone hurriedly. 

He lightly chuckled, feeling triumphant as he saw Darra nervously whirling his fingers around. He began to read the message out loud, lowering Darra's self-respect even more. "Darra why did you hang up on me so suddenly? Though I could take a guess, you're probably celebrating your birthday with your aunt and uncle. Happy birthday, Darra. I know I already said happy birthday but I just feel I should say it again, so you may know how much I really mean it. The past 9 years of your life are gone, for your 10 now. So keep looking ahead, in the present, and in the future. Good luck! Sincerely, your BEST FRIEND, Grace."

He heard a silent sigh as he looked over to Darra, a smile was frozen on his lips, his head turned away from the phone, facing the other side, but his eyes were showing every bit of sadness that he felt. Mr. Roberts, finally understanding the situation, decided not to talk about it, thinking it would just make him feel sadder. 

"You didn't tell me you were turning 10 today, little man. Happy birthday." He said, slowly nudging his shoulder and returning his phone. Eyes still holding sadness, but this time they looked a little happier. He took the phone and placed it in his pocket, looking up at the young man his smile grew wider. "Thank you, sir--"
"Please, call me Coal." He said, interrupting him and smiling wide. 

"Thank you, Coal." He said, testing his name out. It felt weird rolling off his tongue. He's never heard of anyone in Dillow named Coal. It seemed to be an American name, he thought to himself. "It feels new rolling off my tongue. I didn't hear of anyone named Coal in my town. Everyone was Irish as far as I knew." He said, putting a finger on his chin, Coal, slightly chuckled. "What do you want to do for your birthday?"
"I have no idea, I and my parents used to--".

He hesitated but then smiled. Instead of sulking as he did for the past 18 hours whenever he mentioned his parents, he decided to try and think of it in a positive way. Instead of remembering how they died, he chose to remember how they lived. He took a deep breath in a let it out in one, huge, sigh. 

"I and my mom used to play a few games, like catch or, "Hey look it's a monster and he's going to eat you!!" We didn't have that many board games but we used to entertain ourselves with the ideas we had. Then we'd go to the kitchen and my mom would make the best chicken curry, vegetable soup, rose beef, all types of juices and she'd even put out sodas she bought from the supermarket the day before. 

Then our dad would come home with wrapped gifts and presents, some of them being my mom's requests and others my dad would think of. I would unwrap them and find all sorts of cool things my dad brought from his workplace, for my dad worked as a carpenter. He made me a small wooden bicycle and I could push a button that would make the bell rang, and my mom gave me a framed picture of her and me when I was still a small child.

 It was well designed by my father and even though it was just me and her in the picture, they both worked hard to make it. Then at the end of dinner, my mom would pull out one of her famous cheesecakes from the fridge as a surprise birthday gift from her. Then we'd spend the next two hours, laughing, singing, telling stories, and feeling good, for those were the happiest of times." He didn't realize it, but a small tear had rolled down his cheek only when he was at half of his speech. 

No matter how positive or happy the moment was, he couldn't erase the fact that he couldn't enjoy times like that anymore. He also learned that, no matter how much he wanted to think he was over his parents' death, was the fact that he hadn't fully recovered yet. "I'm sure those two were amazing people. May their souls rest in peace. I know you told me not to speak about your parents but--"

"No no, it's fine...thank you." A genuine smile on his face took over his lips as he wiped the tear from his face. A few moments of silence covered the room, till Coal reached for his pockets, and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. "You can go outside if you want, travel the area, as long as you stay within the city, okay?" He said, handing him the money. "I couldn't accept that--"
"Take it, it's your birthday after all. Loosen up, little man!"