The Present

I remember when I first found out that I have ghosts.  It was a Friday, the 3rd of June, and I was late to work.  I'd overslept, and was in the middle of throwing my clothes on when someone started pounding on the front door.  I finished buttoning my blouse and raced downstairs to the door, throwing it open, all ready to yell at whoever was doing the pounding.

I stopped with my mouth open, the angry words stuck in my throat.  No one was out there.  I took a few steps out onto the porch, looking up and down the street.  No one was there. Huh!  All angered up and no one to yell at.  Fine.  I turned to go back into the house, took two steps and fell flat on my face.  I twisted over to see what had happened and found a package sitting smack in the middle of the doorway.

How had it gotten there?  It certainly wasn’t there when I walked out, and no one was around to put it there.  I scooted across the floor on my butt to the package and picked it up; nothing on it but my address.  Well, I had to get to work, so I put the box on the table and hurried off.

After a very long day, I hurried home to check out the mysterious package.  Once I got into the house, though, I was floored to find the box missing from where I’d left it.  The door had been locked, and nothing else seemed to be disturbed.  No one else was in the house; it had that empty, static feel that lets you know that no one else was there. 

Searching through the house, I found the box on the middle of the living room floor, opened.  Scattered around the floor were pieces of brightly colored paper, marked with ‘happy birthday’ symbols all over it.  Wrapping paper, I guess.  Lying in the midst of all the paper was a brightly colored, old-fashioned ball. 

That night, I was wakened by the sound of something thumping down the stairs.  Investigating, I found the ball rolling across the floor at the bottom of the steps.  I picked it up and put it safely in the closet.  The same thing happened every hour through the night. 

Since then, the same thing happens every year, on the same day.  The package always contains a different gift, suitable for a little kid.  Whether I open it, or not, the new toy is always played with by the time I get home.  I think it’s a girl, because of the doll that arrived last year. 

After 5 years of this, we’ve finally arrived at a truce.  She makes noise with her toys only on the weekends, and I get to sleep before work.  It works for us.  I don’t know who she was, or who’s sending her the presents, and I’m not really sure I want to know.  Her birthday is coming up again.  I’m thinking of getting her a dog...something we can both share.  I think she’d like that.

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