Story #10: THE GIFT
The Gift
A woman receives a supernatural inheritance from her grandmother.
The house was emptier now, which
didn’t make any sense. In the final months, Granny hadn’t been mobile at all.
She’d simply sat in her wheelchair all day, blankly staring at the TV. The
house had felt empty long before she’d passed away quietly in her sleep last
week. Her night nurse had said it had been peaceful: She’d simply never woken
up.
I was glad about that. Granny had
suffered so much already. At ninety, the Parkinson’s had ravaged her
once-supple body, leaving her frail and helpless. It had been difficult to
watch, but she’d left enough instruction in her will before the illness had
left her unable to speak or write: No hospitals and no frail care. So, despite
how difficult it had been to watch, I’d had no choice but to watch.
And now the house I’d grown up in
was empty.
I’d spent most of the day packing
up what I could. With the radio blasting old-school hits from the kitchen and
the windows wide open to let in the June sunlight and fresh air, I got as much
as I could into empty Spar boxes. It hurt to see all the mementos Granny had
spent decades collecting turn into junk the moment they went into the boxes.
“Amy!”
I heard my name in the brief moment
of silence when one song ended. I turned the radio off, sure that I was
imagining things, but it came again. Just my name. Coming from somewhere in my
grandmother’s tiny one-bedroom flat.
I left the kitchen.
“Hello?”
Silence.
I felt the hairs on the back of my
neck stand up. The cool air suddenly felt like icy claws on my skin.
I pushed the door open and stepped
into the bedroom, bracing myself for the unknown and finding nothing.
“Hello?” I repeated, instantly
feeling foolish.
Granny had been obsessed with
floral patterns. Her bedroom looked like a garden had exploded all over her bed,
curtains, and carpet. It even smelled like flowers. I closed my eyes for a
second, imagining that she was still here, busting her ass to make sure I got
the best education and never wanted for anything. When I opened them, the sun
was hiding behind a cloud and the room was shrouded in darkness.
Silence.
Then, “Amy…”
I felt my heart thumping so hard
against my ribcage that it hurt. I needed a minute to collect myself, maybe I’d
inhaled too much Clorox or something.
“Amy…”
There was that raspy voice again,
saying my name. I wasn’t imaging things. I wasn’t alone.
“Who’s there?” I asked, my voice
shaky.
“Amy, Amy, Amy…” A chant now, and it was
coming from…coming from the bedside table?
I moved towards it, hesitantly,
like a curious animal. It didn’t make sense.
Without preamble, I yanked the
drawer open, finding nothing but prescriptions and scribbled notes. I felt a
sharp pain in my right hand, pain so acute it brought me to my knees and
blinded me.
“Miss? Miss?”
Someone was shaking me. My eyes
flew open and I looked up into unfamiliar brown eyes that were filled with
concern. I sat up groggily, rubbing the back of my head and looking around me. I
was still in Granny’s room. I’d fallen, somehow, and hit my head.
“Thought you were dead,” the
strange man said, and I finally noticed the “BROWN & CO. MOVERS” splashed
across his shirt in bold font.
He extended his hand and I took it,
grateful to be helped to my feet. As soon as our hands touched, I felt a burst
of electricity shoot through me.
God, what the hell is she on? Looks like
she hasn’t slept for days…
Should I tell her that I can see
her nipples through her shirt?
I drew my hand back as if I’d been
scalded, falling back onto my butt again.
“Are you okay?” The man was looking
at me like I was crazy.
His mouth wasn’t moving, but I
could still hear his voice. He was thinking that I was on drugs, that maybe I was
a little touched in the head.
“I’m not crazy,” I blurted out,
pulling myself up onto my feet.
His eyes widened and he stepped
back. “I never said you were. Uh, I’ll just…go back to the other guys and
finish up.”
He scampered away, not bothering to
wait for me to say anything else.
“Amy!”
There was that voice again, but more insistent this time. My
right hand was itchy. I looked down at my palm and stifled a scream by biting
down on my bottom lip.
The mouth on my hand spoke again. “Amy!”
I was crazy.
The mouth let out an ominous laugh.
“Thank you for rescuing me from that darkness,” it said. “Your grandmother
wanted you to have me. I think we’ll be very
good friends.”
END
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