A Christmas Gift

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Malchus
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A Christmas Gift

Post by Malchus »

NOTE: This was originally the first of two Secret Santa Stories for Vagrant Orpheus made back on old OZC. I decided to repost it as a paltry attempt to inch forward in reposting all of my stuff since my procrastination and all of the frustration involved in satisfying all of my Masteral enrollment requirements have slowed my revamping and reposting to a feeble crawl. This is pretty much untouched, save for the correction of a few typos I didn't address in the original. The second Secret Santa oneshot I won't repost since I plan to expand it into a full-fledged multi-chapter story of its own.

A Christmas Gift

It was yet another hectic Christmas Eve. Everywhere anyone looked they were likely to see people rushing around, trying to get one thing or another done. There were people setting up decorations at the last minute. There were those fussing about, making sure their impending Christmas dinners or parties wouldn’t be abject disasters. Some who had had to work up to the holidays were hurriedly clocking out, hoping to make it to their families in time. Predictably, there were also those who were on the verge of panic, buying gifts at the last minute.

Whatever their reason for rushing, the overall bustle gave an impression that was more hurry than merry. It hadn’t helped that there had been a storm that had seemingly come out of nowhere earlier, delaying people and increasing the number of those involved in the holiday rush. Cars clogged the streets, jostling through traffic in the attempt to get to their destinations as fast as possible. Their drivers were, rather than giving perfunctory holiday greetings, screaming obscenities and curses at each other.

“Damn it!” one such driver swore.

He cast a glance at his watch and swore again. At this rate he would never be able to get to the shopping district before all the stores started closing early for the holidays. He looked around, as if desperately looking for an opening in the congestion to magically appear. Of course, there was no such luck. He let out something that sounded like the bastard child of a sigh and a growl and resisted the impulse to bash at his car horn. It wouldn’t make the traffic go any faster and the noise would probably just make him even more pissed, not that other idiots around him weren’t trying their damnedest to blare their horns anyway.

As he had done several times in the past few hours, he turned his anger on himself again. If he hadn’t forgotten to buy a gift earlier he wouldn’t be stuck in this situation in the first place. He had actually bought other gifts several days earlier, and they were already being express mailed to his parents, siblings, nephews, and nieces. But in an oversight that had likely stemmed from his own extreme idiocy, he had forgotten to buy the most important gift of all. He’d forgotten to get something for his girlfriend. The girlfriend whose family he was gonna spend Christmas Eve with.

Oh, and did he mention that Christmas Eve also happened to be the anniversary of the first time they had gotten together? As corny as it sounded, it was nonetheless true. If he didn’t find a gift soon he’d be in doubly deep shit. He couldn’t just get any gas station trinket either. That’d be even worse than showing up without a gift

And though he wasn’t the type of person who usually blamed God or Fate or the universe or whatever the hell else, he couldn’t help but think that something out there had just pulled a fast one on him. Him somehow forgetting a gift for the most important woman in his life and having to rush to get one on a typically congested urban Christmas Eve which was more congested due to some freak storm earlier? How the hell could that happen by accident? Murphy’s Law was one hell of a son of a bitch.

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” he swore again. That probably wouldn’t get him any help, considering that tomorrow was supposed to be the guy’s birthday.

He looked at his watch again. If he didn’t get a gift within the next twenty minutes, he was gonna be late for the party. He’d also catch some hell for that too, especially considering that his girlfriend’s dad had never really liked him and Suzanne had pulled a lot of strings to even convince the old sob to let him come. He screwed this up it’d be goodbye to any other chances of his getting invited ever again. Hell, if the old bastard had his way, it’d probably be goodbye Suzanne!

This time, he gave into the urge to slam his palm into the car horn. Of course, all that happened was that several people replied in kind. A kindly-looking, fifty-ish woman in an old Kia (gasoline powered too, it looked like) even flipped him the bird.

Finally, traffic lurched forward and he managed to round the corner. What awaited him, however, was yet another seemingly impassable wall of slowly-moving traffic. He was about to scream in frustration when a poster caught his eye. It advertised, in the typical convulsion-causing bright reds and greens of Christmas ads, some sort of Christmas bazaar in town square. Normally, he wouldn’t even consider going to such places for holiday shopping since most of the stalls I such bazaars sold little more than cheap knockoffs and other assorted junk. Still, the town square bazaar was much closer than the shopping district—within walking distance, actually—and, from the information given on the poster, was open for far longer. And, who knew, maybe he’d find something that looked good enough to pass for the real deal. If worse came to worst, he could always supplement the gift later with a better one.

He looked around for the car park that he remembered was here. If he was lucky, there’d be a free spot close to the exit. After a few minutes of slow traffic crawl, he found the car park, paid the fee, and looked for the nearest available spot. He found one on the second floor. Not the best spot, true, but it could’ve been worse. Though, that still didn’t stop him from indulging in a few more profanities.

Calming himself as he walked, he quickly made his way out of the car park and toward the bazaar. His pace was slower due to all of the snow on the ground, and it was beginning to irritate him. However, he quickly quashed it. No sense in getting pissed again after he had just calmed himself down. Besides, there was just one thing he needed to focus on: finding a good gift in the next—he glanced at his watch—ten minutes.

He made his way around the bazaar, going from kiosk to kiosk and fighting his way through the people who also seemed to be doing their own last minute shopping. As he feared, most of the said kiosks were stocked with cheap, crappy knockoffs. One kiosk in particular had really weird kid toys, including something called a Chicken Duck Bubble Hammer or something. He had the sense, though, to not even try to figure that one out. The other stands couldn’t come up with much better either: used clothes, bathroom implements (what the hell?), clearly fake purses, faker looking jewelry, and even more retarded knockoff toys. In other words, nothing any self-respecting boyfriend should ever—EVER—get his girlfriend for Christmas-slash-anniversary.

He was about to go back to his car, cursing himself for wasting his own time, when one of the stalls caught his eye. From afar, the stall itself didn’t look like much. It was mostly a battered looking thing made out of plywood, pipes, and a few nails and screws here and there. It looked like it couldn’t decide what it was supposed to sell either, stacked as it was with everything from what looked like novelty plastic knick knacks to designer purses (or what looked like them anyway).

Looking down at his watch for the umpthieth time that day, he figured that if he didn’t find anything now he’d be late no matter what he found later. Letting out a reluctant sigh, he approached the curio stand. He passed his eyes along the first row of stuff for sale, clearly unimpressed. He was about to mentally denounce it as yet another stand full of crap when he saw something that shocked him enough to leave his mouth hanging open.

It was an old, limited edition Archwind action figure that he had always wanted since he’d been thirteen. It had been made by a now long-dead toy company and was a really popular (and very rare) article prized by toy collectors and Archwind fans alike; and he was both, albeit an amateur. Another part of his mind, however, questioned how such a rare find found its way onto a cheap curio stand like this. He scrutinized the toy carefully. A part of him wondered how silly he looked like, a man in his mid-twenties inspecting some action figure like an art critic studying a Picasso. The same part of him also wondered how silly he looked like when his eyes lit up upon realizing that, as unlikely as it seemed, the toy was the real deal.

His excitement, however, quickly died when he realized how expensive such a rare toy must be. Plus, he was supposed to be looking for something for his girlfriend, not for himself.

“Like it, huh?”

He turned to the voice, startled, as if noticing the man behind the stall for the first time. It was a middle-aged looking man with a neatly trimmed brown beard and wavy, shoulder-length hair of the same color. The man was looking at him with an affable smile which, coupled with his gentle, friendly eyes, made him look like sort of a younger, physically-fit Santa Claus.

Despite all the frustrations he had felt earlier, he couldn’t help but smile in return at the curio stand’s vendor. “Yeah, I’ve kinda wanted one like it since I was a kid and… y’know…”

His voice trailed off as it always did when talking about his secret obsession. He was always afraid that the people he knew would gibe him for it or act all patronizing. The bearded man’s expression, however, held no mockery or patronization. It was more like a friendly “I know exactly what you mean” look.

“I’ll take it that you want it wrapped up and rung up then, Robert?” the man asked.

“Wait… how’d you know my name?”

The man grinned and pointed at Robert’s chest. He looked down and saw that his office nametag was peeking through his open coat.

“Damn, I always forget to take that thing off,” Robert muttered to himself, “Anyway, no, I was actually looking for something for my girlfriend.”

“Something special?” the bearded man said in the same wistful tone a father used when talking about his kid’s first love.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Robert answered, “I’ve been an idiot, though. I forgot all about getting her a gift. Some boyfriend I am…”

He trailed off, not wanting to gripe about his screw ups to a complete stranger. That he had wanted to in the first place wasn’t like him. He was normally not the bleeding heart type who talked about himself and his problems to other people. Something about the curio stand guy, though, seemed completely trustworthy. Like a parent or close uncle you could easily trust and open up to. He shook his head, as if to shake off such an asinine thought.

“Anyway, I’m just gonna look around if you don’t mind.”

The man simply nodded his understanding. He gazed at Robert for a second before he slid his right hand out of his worn, black coat to reach under the stall. Robert thought he saw a flash of deep red. His mind quickly explained it away as being the color of the man’s glove.

“You know,” the man said, “I may be able to help you there.”

The man pulled his hand out from under the stall. Robert saw that, contrary to his earlier thoughts, it was the skin on the man’s bare hand that was red rather than that of a glove. He kept quiet about that, though, figuring that it was some sort of injury or skin problem and that people usually didn’t like to have those pointed out. Before he could wonder why someone in an outdoor winter stand wasn’t wearing gloves, however, his attention turned to what the hand was holding.

His eyes widened. It was the most beautifully-crafted jeweled amulet he had ever since. It was shaped like a chrysanthemum—which, a part of his mind noted, also happened to be his girlfriend’s favorite flower—its “petals” were made of sparkling blue sapphire set in a golden wire frame. Linking to the sapphire chrysanthemum was a gold link chain. His mind didn’t even question how some beat-up old curio stand could have such an expensive piece of jewelry. Hell, if it had a rare, discontinued Archwind action figure anything was possible.

“T-that’s perfect!” he blurted out, beaming like a kid in the candy store. As quickly as his expression brightened, however, it quickly became disheartened. “Ah, crap, there’s no way I can afford something like that with the money I have with me. Hell, that thing probably costs about as much as my car.”

The bearded man seemed to consider this and looked as if he was deep in thought. After a moment, he looked at Robert and smiled.

“Tell you what,” he said, “How ‘bout I give this to you free of charge? Call it a Christmas gift.”

“What’s the catch?” Robert’s guard immediately went up. Maybe that thing’s stolen, he thought, Maybe that’s how some crappy stall like this has one. He’s probably trying to get rid off the thing on me. Damn, shoulda thought of that earlier—

“No catch,” the man said raising his free hand, “Hard as it is to believe, even in this day and age some of us take the holiday spirit really seriously.”

Coming from most people, the last statement might’ve sounded like an indirect insult. But something about the man’s tone and mannerisms made him sound so friendly and trust worthy that Robert found himself letting his guard down without fully realizing it.

“Besides,” the bearded man went on, “I know how much the girl means to you. I can see it in your eyes.”

Some part of Robert felt that all this was too surreal, too perfect. It had to be some sort of set up. Another, stronger part wanted to take the man at face value; wanted to trust him completely.

He found himself taking the amulet and saying, “Uh, wow… er, thanks. I… really don’t know what to say.”

“It’s nothing, kid,” the man said, “A little holiday generosity does the soul good. In fact, take the Archwind action figure too. Call it a little Christmas bonus.”

“W-wha?” Robert was stunned, unused to such open and apparently honest generosity, “I couldn’t possibly… I mean, this and the necklace—”

“Like I said, I take holiday generosity seriously,” the man said, waving away Robert’s concerns, “Just… something I have to do as much for me as for anyone else, you might say.”

“Oh, man… Thanks, really. Er, I don’t really feel comfortable just getting this for free. I feel like I’m ripping you off or something… There has to be something I can—”

“Merry Christmas’ll do fine,” the friendly vendor said, still smiling, “And if you’re so concerned about paying me, I’ll take a handshake.”

Still not really sure what to do, Robert held out his right hand. The bearded man took it in his own. Robert could’ve sworn that he felt burning heat shoot up his arm as he did so, but dismissed it as being his imagination.

“Who knows,” the man continued after he let go of Robert’s hand, “You might have the opportunity to help me out some day too.”

“If you ever do need it, you can count on me,” Robert assured him, “It’d be the least I could do for all your generosity.”

He looked at his watch. “Crap. I better get going or I’ll be late. Thanks for everything, uh…”

“You can call me Robinn. Robinn Finn.”

“Thank you so much, Robinn. Really. And Merry Christmas!”

Robert turned and left, bringing the amulet and the action figure with him. Robinn gazed at the back of the retreating figure, still smiling.

“Merry Christmas, Robert.”
Last edited by Malchus on Tue Jun 24, 2008 3:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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I admire the man, he has a high tolerance for insanity (and inanity - which he generously contributed!). ~Shroom, on my wierdness tolerance.
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Re: A Christmas Gift

Post by Vagrant Orpheus »

Man, I love RRH. He's totally awesome, and so friendly, and warm, and understanding, and awesome. This is a great little story, and it reminds me that I never finished Shroom's story. I feel bad now :(
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Re: A Christmas Gift

Post by Mobius 1 »

I'm a bit conflicted on Red here. On one hand, him hanging out and giving extremely nice Christmas gifts during the season is rather kind, right up until you get to the point that he's only racking up a bucketload of 'favors'. It's... twisted.
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Re: A Christmas Gift

Post by Vagrant Orpheus »

Well Red's never been portrayed as anything but dark. Not necessarily evil, but definitely a dark figure who hides in sweetness and philanthropy.
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Re: A Christmas Gift

Post by Shroom Man 777 »

Goddamn son of a bitch!

One minor typo. You described his hand as 'read' once.

But, yeah. I hope you get this tied into the fic about Deadlights! It was snowy too, in that Deadlight fic! TIE IN!
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"Sometimes Shroomy I wonder if your imagination actually counts as some sort of war crime." - FROD
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Malchus
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Re: A Christmas Gift

Post by Malchus »

Damn! An errant letter has yet again penetrated my anti-typo defenses.

Although, I plan to keep this as a stand-alone fic. The Deadlight Hollow expansion fic will not feature Red Right Hand, other than a mention in memory.
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I admire the man, he has a high tolerance for insanity (and inanity - which he generously contributed!). ~Shroom, on my wierdness tolerance.
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