To Delight in Exceptional Gifts

“It’s beautiful.”

I lightly traced the cameo locket with the tips of my fingers, admiring the antique’s stunning detail.

“Truly beautiful. And you’re sure that it will... work?”

Behind the counter, the old man straightened his bow-tie with crooked and wrinkled hands, seeming rather insulted by my question.

“My dear, the objects in my store are guaranteed, though I admit they have quite a cost. If you don’t wish to part with such an amount---”

“No, no. Please, sir, I need this for my mother. It’s her birthday, you see, and I want to give her something special, something to repay her for the past. I have the cash to pay you.”

Reaching into my handbag, I withdrew an envelope stuffed with the twenty-dollar bills I had managed to save for this occasion and handed it to the gentleman who stood calmly waiting.

As the old man slowly finished counting the money, he glanced up at me with an eyebrow cocked and a warning upon his lips.

“Be careful how much you handle this piece, young lady. It could prove detrimental.”

I slowly nodded in response, plucked the box from the counter, and turned towards the door with the unabashed anticipation of presenting my gift.

******

“Mother, I’m home.”

I removed my winter coat and scarf and tossed them onto the worn leather arm chair: an act my mother would condemn if she witnessed such a thing. But such details didn’t concern me at this moment. It was my mother’s birthday, and I had procured the best of all possible presents, a unique present never to be forgotten and never to be surpassed.

Shuttling down the narrow staircase came an embittered voice from an upstairs bedroom of our rapidly deteriorating Victorian home, and I began my ascent towards it.

“Where have you been, Laura? I have waited hours. Hours!”

“I know, mother, and I’m sorry, but I was picking up something for you.” I presented the blue velvet box and slightly held my breath in expectation. “Happy birthday, mother. I hope you like it.”

The continual flow of tempestuous mutterings, the displeasure and indignation, suddenly ceased when my mother opened the box and let her eyes rest on the antique cameo pendant inside.

“It’s carved beautifully. I must say that I’m surprised, Laura. I generally expect so much less from you, as you usually disappoint in all facets of life, but you seem to have finally done something right.”

Ignoring the snide comments, I removed the necklace from its box and placed it around my mother’s neck.

“I chose this especially for you, mother. I spared no expense, because I felt so much that you deserved this, a perfect present for you in honor of all you’ve done.”

“Yes, yes. Now, when am I having my tea? You were late coming home, and it is quickly nearing dinner time. You would think that I could at least have my tea on time for my birthday!”

“Surely, mother. Right away. You just lie back and relax, and I’ll bring up some tea and biscuits.”

******

It didn’t take long. In fact, I marveled at how the cameo had already begun to work its magic by dinnertime. Mother had started to feel even weaker than usual, and her increasing thirst could not be satiated.

“Laura! Laura! Get back up here! I need more water!”

“Coming, mother.”

Answering the demands with a sweet melodic tone, I slowly made my way up the stairs with a fresh pitcher of water I knew would never be enough to stop the cravings.

As I entered the room and laid my eyes upon the frail, withering woman in the bed, I took extra care not to let an elated smile creep upon my lips. Her cheekbones seemed to be fighting to break through her skin, which now appeared brittle as it tightly stretched across the features of her face.

“Here you are, mother. Drink some more water.”

“What did you put in that stew?”

“Nothing out of the usual, mother. I made it just the way you’ve always liked it.”

“Well, you’ve done something, you stupid girl! I feel dreadful. As if my body is drying out from the inside! I need another cup of water.”

I wandered over to the tattered floor-length curtains and gave them a slight tug to shut out the lights aglow on the street. It would not be long now. Each passing moment seemed to further transform my mother into a mummified figure. Her breathing became more labored; her joints stiffer; her skin more taught.

“Do you like your cameo, mother? I bought it especially for you. From Wilkin’s Weird and Wonderful Antiques shop. Do you remember that store, mother?”

I watched as her eyes flashed a horrified recognition.

“It’s where you purchased an antique gold watch for father’s birthday forty years ago. By the next morning, my father lay lifeless in his bed, looking as if he were 130 years old instead of 42. It’s taken me these many years to figure out what really happened that night, mother, but once I did, I knew that I wanted this to be your most special birthday. And your last.”

I leaned closer to hear my mother gasping out her response, my pleased smile wide across my face.

“You wretched girl! You dare to take my life from me after all I’ve done for you? And you didn’t even have the strength to murder me with your own hands! You use a cursed object? You weak and pathetic girl! I---.”

I waited a few moments to see if she would finish her thought, complete her string of insults, but there was only the ticking of a nearby clock and a petrified version of my mother’s body that looked as if it came from a museum.

Lying just below the hollow of my mother’s neck, the cameo gleamed with its bewitching and delicate ivory carvings. I gazed upon it with wicked satisfaction, silently thanking the antique for delivering my freedom and peace of mind. But in my exuberance, I forgot the storekeeper’s note of caution and seized the cameo from around my mother’s neck, clenching and kissing it before I realized my error and dropped the antique to the floor.

With each passing minute, I grow thirstier; my skin becoming as arid as the desert air. Death will not have to wait for me much longer.

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Won "The Writer's Cramp" Contest on 24 December 2009