The Gift

Ben pressed his ear against the door to his mother’s bedroom and could hear her weeping. She had been crying every morning for over a month and she had a good reason to. He backed away from the door and walked down the hall.

He stepped into the kitchen and stared at the lifeless space. He missed his mother humming happily, while she prepared breakfast for him and his father. The bold aroma of coffee percolating, along with the smell of bacon sizzling woke him up every morning around seven. But not anymore. He imagined his father with his arms around his mother while she washed the dishes. Sadly, he would not be witnessing the love his parents had for each other anymore as well.

He reached for a container of Folgers from the cupboard, then lit the burner under a kettle filled with water. He toasted two pieces of bread and smothered them with honey.

Standing in front of his mother’s room again, he called out for her. Several seconds later, he could hear her bedroom slippers sweep against the wooden floor.

Helen looked up at her son and let him in. She stared at his light-brown eyes and big smile that he had inherited from his father. A bittersweet smile formed on her face, as she tried her best to suppress her tears.

Ben placed the tray on the cushioned bench at the end of the bed. “Sit down, Ma,” he said and handed his mother the mug. “Please try to eat everything,” he said with worry and sat down next to her.

Helen reached for a slice of toast. She nodded as she took a bite.

“I’m going into town,” Ben said to her as he handed her another slice. “Are you going to be okay for a bit? I won’t be gone too long.”

“I’ll be all right,” she replied softly, as she glided her fingers over her son’s dark brown hair. “You go on.”

Ben kissed his mother on the cheek and headed for the living room. He opened the blinds to the bay window, but it still felt dark. He studied the antique’s displayed on the mantel and sighed. Each piece was given to his mother from his father every year for her birthday. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach, realizing she would not be receiving anything from his father anymore.

As he made his way out the front door, he could no longer wear a brave face. He dropped to his knees on the same spot where his father had been gunned down. He covered his eyes with his hands as tears streamed down his cheeks, and he asked God why he allowed this to happen.

***

Ben stepped off the bus near Old Town Torrance. Up ahead, he could see sycamore trees as tall as the gas lamps that lined the street of Satori. It housed many mom-and-pop stores, and several antique shops. His mother’s birthday was tomorrow, and he wanted to keep up his father’s tradition.

He stopped at the first vintage shop and gazed into the window. Once inside, he ran his fingers over the top of a musty Victorian style sofa, and it made him sneeze. He wandered through the isles and looked curiously at several dusty pieces and grimaced at some. What caught his eyes were the price tags. How can these items cost so much? A lot of these things for sale look like they need to be tossed into the trash, he thought.

As he continued to enter other antique shops, his results were the same. Ben placed his head down in defeat. Sixty-five dollars was all he had. Unfortunately, the beautiful pieces he wanted to buy for his mother cost twice as much.

Before Ben reached the bus stop, he noticed a short Asian man, his hair as white as snow, standing outside the first store. As he got closer, the Asian man started to rant.

“You come in my store earlier!” the man’s accent pierced Ben’s eardrum. “I have plenty nice things. You come look again!” he reached for Ben’s arm.

“I’ve seen everything.” Ben backed away quickly. “I didn’t find anything that I could afford.”

“But I have something in back.” The man blurted. “Something nice for cheap.”

Ben turned and sighed. He had nothing to lose so he followed the man.

“My name Mr. Ling,” he introduced himself to Ben, as he led him behind a curtain and into a small room. Pointing to an 18th century French wall mirror with full length barley twist columns, he said, “This will look good on your mantel.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed and he stepped back. “How do you know that I have a mantel in my house?”

Mr. Ling grinned a toothless smile and disregarded Ben’s question. “I give you for cheap. Thirty-Five-dollars! This no ordinary mirror. It will bring good luck!”

Ben’s eyes widened. It was beautifully made and something he could afford. “Spare me your sales tactic, Mr. Ling. You don’t have to tell me a tale about the mirror. I’ll take it.” He pulled out his wallet, paid the old man, and lugged it to the bus stop.

***

Ben slipped into the side door of the garage and hid the mirror behind a large cardboard box. He entered the house through the back door and was surprised to see his mother sitting at the kitchen table. He was happy that she had finally left her room until he noticed the expression on her face. Taking a seat next to her, he asked. “Ma, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Helen sighed and folded her hands. “I just got a call from my supervisor. I’ve been out too long, and they had to let me go. I haven’t taken care of the paperwork regarding your dad’s pension. I don’t want to believe he’s gone. The mortgage is due next week, and I don’t know how I’m going to pay it. I’m sorry I let you down, son.”

“Don’t worry,” Ben said to his mother, although he was concerned about their situation. The new school semester was next month, and he’d have to stop working at the grocery store. He still needed to buy school supplies and new clothes, but now, he needed to give his earnings to his mother. He thought about the money he had spent on the mirror and sighed.

Helen stood up and looked at her six-teen year-old son. “We’ll manage somehow,” she said. “I’m going to make some calls today.”

***

Ben woke up early. He had a hard time sleeping last night because today was his mother’s forty-fifth birthday, and he wanted it to be special. He took a quick shower, pulled a T-shirt over his head and zipped up a pair of jeans. He slipped into a pair of Nike’s and strolled to the grocery store. Once inside, he headed to the bakery isle.

“Hey Ben,” a heavy-set man named Oscar acknowledged his co-worker from behind a glass display case filled with assorted cakes and pies. “Are you on schedule today?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m here to buy a cake for my mom for her birthday. It’s today.”

“Well, which one do you think she’ll like?” Oscar opened the case.

“She likes berries, so how about the one with the white frosting decorated in strawberries?”

“That’s a fine-looking cake,” Oscar said. “Tell you what. I’ll write happy birthday on the top.”

“Thanks, Oscar.” Ben reached for the box and headed to the cashier.

***

Ben rushed to the garage and carried the mirror into the kitchen, carefully leaning it against the back of the chair. He pulled the cake from the box and placed a red candle in the center. “Ma!” He called out to his mother.

Helen entered the kitchen, and her smile was as big as her eyes.

“Happy birthday!” Ben shouted as he lit the candle. He was glad to see that his mother was dressed in black slacks and a light green long sleeved buttoned shirt. Her curly blonde hair shimmered from the sun, and so did her smile.

“This is such a nice surprise,” she said, as she embraced her son. “How about we barbeque tonight. I’ll pick up some ribs, corn-on-the cob, and make potato salad. Then we can cut that delicious looking cake you bought for me.”

“Sure, Mom, anything you want,” he said. Picking up the mirror, he held it in front of him. “It was a little too big to wrap.”

Helen’s eye’s widened as well as her mouth. She had never seen such a beautiful mirror. The intricate details stunned her, and it was definitely vintage. “Oh honey,” she said to Ben. “Where did you get this lovely piece? It must have cost a fortune.”

“Actually, the man I bought it from sold it to me for a reasonable price.”

Helen carried the mirror into the foyer. “Let’s hang it here. Can you go into your father’s toolbox and find a couple of large nails?”

Ben scurried to the garage. 

***

The mirror was perfectly centered against the beige wall, and it hung caddy corner near the door. It shined, as the rays of the sun lit up the glass. 

Helen glanced in the mirror. “It’s the perfect gift, and I’m lucky to have such a good son as you,” she said to Ben. “You are in many ways, like your father. I’ll be back in a few hours. I need to start taking care of things.” She blew Ben a kiss, headed to her car, then drove away.

As Ben shut the door, he looked into the mirror and was happy his mother liked the gift. Seconds later, his smile turned to a thin line, and the hammer slipped from his hand and made a loud thug when it hit the floor. He trembled when he noticed words start to appear on the wall behind him. Once the last word was written, he turned to read it. You and your mother are in grave danger. I was followed by a man who was at the liquor store while I was there. He wants something of great value in my wallet. Be vigilant.

Ben wanted to run but his legs wouldn’t allow him to do so. He closed his eyes tight and was afraid to open them. Once he did, the message was no longer on the wall.

“Okay–okay,” he repeated to himself as his heart pounded against his chest. He paced the foyer and glanced into the mirror, then looked at the wall, trying to find a logical explanation to what he thought he saw. I’m under a lot of stress. It was just my imagination, he finally convinced himself. Still, he made sure the doors and windows were locked.

***

 It was a warm August evening and the perfect time to relax outside. Ribs searing on the grill filled the air with a sweet tangy smell of barbeque sauce and honey, as Ben basted them one last time. While his mother was gone, he had covered the patio table with a sunny yellow tablecloth and set out green plastic cutlery. He picked a few sunflowers from his mother's garden and placed them in a gold-colored antique vase.

Helen brought side dishes from the kitchen and set them on the table, then took a seat. She wore a proud smile as she watched her son take charge as the new man of the house. “Thank you for being patient with me,” she said to him.

Ben placed the tray of smoking ribs on the table and took a seat across from her. “It’s okay, Mom,” he looked into her eyes and was glad to see them tearless for once. “So where did you go?” He asked curiously.

“Well... I had to stop by the office,” Helen said with regret. “When I arrived, they already had someone sitting at my desk. They didn’t waste no time replacing me and my personal belongings had been boxed up and waiting for me at H.R. where I picked up my last check. I have enough money to pay for the utility bills this month, but not enough to cover the mortgage. I also went to the SSI office and took care of things there.” Helen looked at Ben with confidence. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, you hear me. We are going to be fine.”

Helen stopped talking once she heard the front door shake violently, then slam against the wall. “Ben, I want you to stay here,” she whispered to her son as she picked up his baseball bat.

“No, Mother,” Ben took the bat from her. “You stay and be ready to run out the side gate.”

Ben crept into the kitchen and crouched behind the island. He could see a tall stocky man wearing a black mask and a gray beany making his way down the hall. Peering into his parent’s bedroom, the intruder was rummaging through his parent’s dresser drawers. Ben’s eyes widened when he saw what had caught the intruders' eyes.

Before the thief could make it out of the bedroom, Ben swung at him, but he missed. He chased the man into the living room, but stopped abruptly when he was met by the barrel of a gun.

“Don’t think that I won’t shoot you,” the thief snarled before running out the front door. “I’ll take your life just like I did when I shot the man here before.”

The thought of this man who confessed to killing his father sent Ben on a rage. He pulled the antique mirror from the wall and swung it over the man’s head. Angry tears fell from his eyes, as he watched the thief’s bloody head hit the floor and onto the shattered glass. He ripped his father's wallet from the thief’s hand and placed it into the back of his pocket.

Helen ran to her son’s side and held on to him tightly. “The police are on their way,” she said.

***

It had been a long night once the commotion was over. While sweeping up the remains from the antique mirror, Ben faced the wall where he had witnessed the warning message. He knew the blessing had come from his father.

He walked into the kitchen and dumped the glass into the trashcan when he remembered his father’s wallet in his back pocket. He took a seat on the kitchen chair and stared fondly at the photos inside. Pulling out a couple of twenties and a few dollar bills, he wondered why someone would want to steal a poor man’s wallet, when he discovered an orange piece of paper hidden in its flap. He took it out carefully and discovered it was a lottery ticket.

He reached for his phone from his shirt pocket and googled past winning lottery numbers. His eyes grew when the ticket matched all six digits.

Ben sat in disbelief until he recalled what Mr. Ling had told him. And although it was a superstitious belief that a broken mirror caused bad luck; it was quite the opposite for him. Not only did the mirror help to capture his father’s killer, he and his mother would no longer have to worry about financial hardships for a very long time.