Piñata Refund

Apr 15, 2022

Fatima and Shaun Montgomery were hosting their daughter Kiara’s sixth birthday party. In the backyard, the children were enjoying the jumping castle and the petting zoo, while on the patio, the adults fought for their host’s attention.

Wherever Shaun went, the guests followed. When he passed through the living area, they danced, but now he was outside, the six-piece jazz band played an empty room.

Shaun wasn’t surprised by the heightened attention. The investor was worth north of three billion dollars, and at just forty-two he had already been on the cover of Forbes twice: once shirtless, oiled up. Strangers wanting things from him was just part of the game. What did come as a surprise, however, was the one guest who completely ignored him; that was a first.

“This is such an incredible house,” said Amber.

Shaun peered beyond Amber to her husband, Will, visible on the grass in the distance. “All luck, I assure you,” he said.

“Shaun is just being modest,” added Fatima. “He works incredibly hard.”

A man in a suit snatched the champagne from the hired staff and filled Shaun’s glass himself. “I read about your pipeline deal, Shaun,” he said.

Shaun glanced at the man and back at Will, but he had to shuffle sideways to ensure he could continue spying on the young man across the yard.

“Amber, what does your husband do?” he asked.

“Will’s in a sales team,” she said.

“I see. He seems to be a very attentive father.”

“Oh, he’s amazing. If it were up to him we’d have ten more bubs, but I said, ‘not until you can deliver them yourself, Pal.’”

The group laughed at Amber’s joke and the jazz band inside, hearing joy through the concrete walls, decided to disband. No more would the world experience the highs and lows of The Sextet Collective. The band leader, who was prepared for this occasion, retrieved his CV from his saxophone case, but he was too late. Shaun had already excused himself and was strolling across the yard to confront Will.

When he arrived, Will was on his haunches. He had his arm around his daughter, Charlotte, and together they were pointing at a hot air balloon to the east. Behind them, a row of trees appeared as thick as a mythical woods, and the clouds, shifting in the sky, cast patterns on the pair and the lush grass. For a moment, Shaun stood quietly and observed.

“Will, do you drink whiskey?” he asked.

Will bent over and hoisted Charlotte up and across his chest like a seatbelt. The girl faced away from Shaun and his nine-bedroom, eleven bathroom house.

“Of course,” lied Will.

“Great. There’s something I’d like to show you.”

They left Charlotte to play with the other children and crossed the grass. Inside, the concrete walls dropped the temperature, and the men climbed the spiral staircase accompanied by the stubborn drummer of The Sextet Collective (now billing as The Sextet Solo).

The staircase opened onto a home office as large as Will’s house. Two circular skylights welcomed the sun, and the shining floorboards reflected light onto framed sports memorabilia. Will walked a few paces to see the end of the room, but there was nothing except a workstation with five monitors and a drinks bar.

“Here,” said Shaun.

Will took the glass and sniffed the drink.

“It’s an odd thing being a father, isn’t it? So many competing demands, trade-offs.”

Will nodded, sipped the whiskey and tried to restrain his facial muscles.

“You probably noticed I wasn’t at the last dance recital, though my PA had me on the iPad.”

“Oo, yes,” recalled Will, “I saw you on the iPad.”

From this vantage, Will could see the tennis court beyond the pool, the path to the private jetty that backed onto the Yarra, and the piñata dangling from the heritage-listed jacaranda.

“I couldn’t make it, unfortunately,” said Shaun, reclaiming Will’s attention. “I had a call with the US at that time. Don’t get me wrong, Kiara is the most important person in my world, and I’d jump in front of a train for her, but I just… couldn’t go.”

“Sure, I’ve missed a few myself. I understand.”

“Will, I’m not sure you do understand.”

Shaun wiggled his mouse and the computer stirred awake. He navigated the desktop until an Excel spreadsheet swallowed the central screen, and then he executed a macro which caused all five monitors to display coloured charts and tables.

“I could have gone to the recital,” he continued, “but the US meeting was critical to the Orjan Pipeline deal so I calculated I shouldn’t go. The meeting couldn’t be rescheduled without risking our leverage and stakeholder support. I mean, shit, the 13.5 billion dollar deal sat on a knife’s edge. On the other hand, I ran the numbers and attending Kiara’s recital meant little… even to her.”

Shaun sipped the whiskey and stared out the window. The younger man was reflected in the glass, gazing down three levels at his daughter near the petting zoo.

“Here, I’ll show you what I mean,” said Shaun. He clicked the mouse. “I developed a model to quantify the value of every engagement with my daughter.”

Will squinted at the graphs and tables. “Is that even poss-”

“Everything is quantifiable, Will. Did you know the Australian Government values life at 222,000 dollars per year? Some simple arithmetic can whittle that figure to days, minutes and seconds. Well, using de Selby analysis - the same method I used to value a livestock trade - I created more rigorous parameters of what constitutes ‘life’. These are things like intimacy, love, leisure, purpose, financial security, physical safety...”

He dragged the mouse and clicked another tab. On the screen, a matrix displayed the life parameters and their relative weightings. Each parameter had numerous sub-parameters, and to demonstrate, Shaun clicked through a labyrinth of hyperlinks to reveal the sources for the ‘child-rearing’ sub-parameter of ‘love’.

There were religious texts, psychological doctrines, self-help books and interview notes. Then he returned to the home tab, and Will saw the document’s title: the Shaun Montgomery Integrated Life Equation (SMILE).

“So, let me ask you a simple question: do you think your daughter will remember the 999th time you hugged her?”

Will gulped the remainder of his drink. “Well, she remembers being shown affection.”

“Affection is an important sub-parameter of my analysis on child rearing, but context is important. There’s a huge leap from zero to one hug, but little difference between 999 and 1000. What I’m saying is that the value of each hug presents diminishing returns. So, do you think she’ll remember or not?”

“Well, I... suppose not.”

“Exactly, and the 12th recital, 70th sporting event, 46th play date, the two of you pointing at a hot air balloon - do you think she’ll remember those surplus moments? Of course not.”

Shaun poured Will another whiskey and watched the young father skull it in one motion.

“Providing you are present enough to avoid childhood trauma,” continued Shaun, “your time is better spent serving your daughter rather than being with her. A good father would be raising capital, investing and developing networks. That way, in time, you can afford events she will remember forever - events like this.”

After their conversation, the two men rejoined the party. Shaun returned to the patio where his associates were waiting and Will searched for Amber, who was talking to some parents from the dance school.

When her husband approached, Amber’s smile grew and she extended her arm and tugged him close in a playful embrace.

“I’ve just had the most incredible conversation,” said Will.

Amber caressed his excited cheek, and the other couple began their own side conversation. “You look like you’ve won the lottery,” said Amber.

“I have. It’s amazing, truly - the clarity, the value in the clarity.”

Will took Amber’s hand and led them towards a bench. When they sat down, the sun pierced the thin cloud cover and warmed their faces. Amber gazed at her glowing husband beside her, felt a surge of love for that sweet man, and leaned in for a kiss.

But Will pulled away. “We are finally going to be happy,” he said.

Amber slid away an inch. “I am happy, Will.”

“I know, I know, but I mean truly happy, Amber. I’ll get a better job. I’ll make more sacrifices-”

“Wait, I am truly happy. Aren’t you happy? I love our life-”

“But our life could be better, so much better. Think of Charlotte...”

Amber clenched her jaw and stood up. “What’s gotten into you?”

Unfortunately, their conversation ended there, with Amber blocking tears with her hand, because a crowd had gathered under the nearby jacaranda for the piñata smashing.

Will felt guilty for upsetting his wife so he stepped away from the group to locate Charlotte, who appeared with other children at the gate of the petting zoo. They sprinted to the adults under the tree so they wouldn’t miss the fun, and Amber called her daughter over and held her close.

“Thanks so much for coming to celebrate Kiara’s birthday,” said Fatima. “Shaun and I are so proud of our little angel-”

“But,” interrupted Shaun, “Kiara is about to show you what we already know: she is not an angel all the time.”

Dangling from the tree was a custom-made piñata. The cardboard unicorn, based on Kiara’s drawings, was filled with candy she had selected when a confectioner visited the house with a sample plate. The density of the organic cardboard was also tailored to her strength potential, and Shaun had ensured the thickness was reduced in vulnerable areas around the heart and groin. This ensured a realistic, though pleasurable, experience.

When Kiara approached the piñata, her father placed the blindfold over her eyes, handed her the stick and fixed her heading. Provided she followed his clear instructions, she couldn’t fail.

Unfortunately, Kiara was six so the instructions were reinterpreted and she swung at the air from some distance. She continued swinging, but listened to the calls from the crowd and advanced on the beast. The big stick pulled her side to side with each swing, and she giggled on her birthday.

Shaun scratched his chin and twisted his rolex.

“You really need to focus now,” he said.

Kiara swung a few more times and then felt a strong physical connection. But before she could line the beast up again, the stick slid from her hand and in an instant the blinding world presented itself.

A large blurry mass soon sharpened, and Kiara saw her father with the stick and blindfold in his hand. Shaun told his daughter to stand with her mother and she didn’t protest; she knew that expression well.

A silence fell over the crowd. Shaun put on the blindfold.

What he unleashed next can only be described as a confident and hostile barrage. He swung with the precision and force of an airstrike, until the pink unicorn designed by Kiara was fractured, and its lifeless corpse lay on the grass.

The children tried to approach the candy but Shaun screamed.

In the total blackness, he located the corpse and twisted his loafer until the skull shattered. Then he began a second methodical and violent attack.

As he worked the corpse, Will apologised to Amber and picked up his daughter. He held Charlotte against his ribs and placed his left hand on his wife’s back. He felt warmth radiate from her, and it became clear there was no way to quantify how these two women made him feel.

It was also clear that nothing needed to change, not a damn thing. “Amber,” he said.

“Yes, Will.”

“Now this is something Kiara will remember for the rest of her life.”