The Christmas Present

I stepped out of the bathtub feeling clean and raw to the soul. I love taking a bath. It's just so refreshing. No matter what you do the whole day; no matter how bad your day went, a cool refreshing bath at night would calm you down.

I was rapping an Eminem song while walking into my room in a towel, when I heard the doorbell ring.

I checked my clock and it read 8:47pm.

"Who the hell is it?" I murmured to myself, annoyed.

I quickly pushed my legs into my dirty work jeans again and put on a hoodie on top. I didn’t have time to wear a T-shirt under my hoodie because the visitor was constantly ringing the bell like a mad man.

I ran down the living room yelling back at the door, “Coming, coming."

I opened the door and saw a man in his mid-sixties standing outside my door. He dressed in a vintage long coat and a Santa hat. His scuffed shirt collar was peaking from underneath his coat.

"Hi! Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!”

There was an awkward pause for quite a long time.

“Are you Mr. David Oberoi?" the man broke the silence.

I was busy scrutinizing the man through my narrowed eyes. When I heard his voice I flinched a little.

"Yes," I replied to him in short.

"Is your father Mr. Jack Oberoi?"

"Yes." I frowned at him suspiciously.

A huge smile broke on his face, displaying his crooked yellow teeth.

"Hello. I'm Mr. James Oberoi."

I looked at him blankly rummaging through my memories to find if I knew him. I didn’t miss the fact that we shared the same last name. But I don't recognize him at all.

“I am sorry I don’t recognize you,” I apologized.

"Of course you don't. I'm your father's eldest cousin. I am sure no-one told you about me."

"I'm sorry, no."

"Yeah, we lost contact after a family dispute."

I kept quiet, unsure on what to say next.

"Can I come inside?" he asked me and added as an afterthought, “I am cold."

I felt my face getting hot from embarrassment.

"Yeah, yeah sure. Please come in."

The man walked past me in such a hurry, it almost felt like a wind just rushed past.

"I'm sorry to disturb you so late on a Christmas Eve," he apologized while making himself comfortable on the couch.

"No, it's okay."

"You have no one to celebrate Christmas with?"

"No."

"No girlfriend or mates?"

"No."

"Oh."

I walked to the kitchen and fetched two glasses and a bottle of wine. When I entered the living room the man was not on the couch anymore.

"What the.....," I trailed off when I saw James coming out of my bedroom with a blanket in hand.

"I hope you don't mind," he asked giving me an innocent look.

"No." I replied with a tight smile.

Even though I tried to act nice and welcoming, inside I was growing irritated at how a stranger I just met, touched my stuffs and walked around my apartment without my permission.

I placed the glasses and the bottle of wine on the table and sat on the recliner. James occupied the couch spreading my blanket over his legs.

I tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t overlook the fact that the end of his trouser was muddy and making my blanket dirty.

Instantly I regretted inviting him inside my apartment. I didn't even know him.

How could i trust a stranger on his words? He could be a murderer or a robber.

Stupid! Stupid! I cursed myself.

"If you don't mind me asking," I said hesitantly.

"Absolutely not, ask anything."

"How did you find me?" I asked abruptly.

James broke out laughing, hysterically. I didn't understand what was so funny. Even his laugh was weird. He half choked and half laughed. I sat there feeling stupid and helpless.

"I found you from the phonebook, of course."

"Right," I whispered to myself, still not convinced.

Am I overthinking? I asked myself.

I looked at the man from head to toe. He seemed pretty weak and harmless.

I brushed off my paranoid voice and started to pour the wine in the glasses.

"I was bored all morning. See, I live alone. I have nothing to do. So I started to read the phonebook...." he stopped to take the glass from my hand.

He took a sip and relaxed a bit.

"I might sound crazy but yeah, I was reading the phonebook."

"No, you don't sound crazy," I reassured him and added a consolation,” I read the dictionary."

His eyes lit up," You too?"

I nodded a 'yes' realizing he loved to read the dictionary too.

I took a long sip from my glass. James said," So yeah that's when I found your name. I was sure that we were related. We have a weird last name."

I laughed a little. It wasn't funny but the wine that just hit my system gave me a little buzz.

"But as I was standing outside your door, I was contemplating my actions."

Well the way you were ringing the bell like a lunatic, didn't seem like you were contemplating your actions. I thought to myself.

"And when you opened your door, I was feeling even more stupid."

"Why?"

"You are a very handsome looking young man. I was convinced that in no way were you to be my nephew."

I blushed at his compliment.

"What do you do?" James asked.

"I work for the government."

"What kind?"

"I'm a crime statistic analyst."

"What's that?"

"I....... “I started to explain my job when James cut me off.

"Never mind."

I was a bit irritated but I let it pass.

"What do you do?" I asked James.

"Nothing."

"Excuse me?"

" I lived in jail since I graduated college."

"What?" I asked in disbelief.

"Just joking," he said and started to laugh.

I stared at him. It was not funny.

Is he stoned? He must be high.

"Have you ever been to jail?" James asked.

"Behind the bars? No. To free a friend? Yes."

"You are a nice guy."

"Thank you."

There was an awkward silence. I couldn't figure out what to do or say. So I started to nurse my drink and waited for him to break the silence. He was very talkative.

I looked up when I heard him fidget with his pocket. After a few minutes of struggle, he pulled out his wallet.

I thought it to be a wallet. But it was a very old book containing small photos. The photos were a few inches bigger than passport size photos.

"What is that?" I asked curiously.

He flipped through the pages without answering my question. I gulped down the last bit of my drink.

"Here it is," he whispered to himself before pushing a photo in my hand.

"See, that's the photo of your father and me when we were in school."

I looked closely at the photograph. It was a black and white photograph and was in a very bad condition.

I furrowed my eyebrows and inspected the photo. It took me a few seconds to recognize the familiar teenage face that I had seen in our family album at my grandmother's place. It was my father. The boy standing next to him was unmistakably James. No one can overlook his crooked teeth.

"Yeah, there he is," I smirked at the photograph.

"We used to be very close."

Yet I had never heard of him or seen his photo in our family album. Suddenly I remembered him telling me something about a family dispute earlier.

"What happened?" I asked, suddenly interested to know about a secret that the family had kept from me and my siblings all these years. I was sure my siblings didn’t hear of any uncle James.

"Then Lily happened."

"Who is Lily?" I asked, oblivious of the new character.

"Lily was my high school beau."

"Oh, so what happened?"

"She was so beautiful. Beautiful inside and out. She was kind and brave. She was my confidante. She saw me inside out, and caressed my soul. When I used to be with her, everything felt so much better."

I saw a spark in his eyes. He spoke so passionately about Lily.

"Then one day I find myself outside her door with a ring in my pocket. I went to propose to her. I knew she would say yes. I was confident."

"I stood outside her apartment for 20 minutes before I felt something was not right. I broke into her apartment and found Lily lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Her throat was slit from end to end.

I felt my voice shake in fear. A chill ran down my spine in horror. A shadow of sadness followed in tow.

"After that all I can remember is, I was behind the bars being tortured by the police to admit something that I didn't commit."

I didn't dare to ask him to continue. I was afraid my voice was going to betray me.

James continued, “Next morning your father came to visit me in jail."

“‘Why did you have to do it?' This was the first thing Jack asked me. I thought he meant why I killed Lily."

“‘I did not kill Lily. Trust me. I loved her. Why will I kill her? I was going to propose to her last night,' I tried to explain myself in the hope that Jack would understand."

"Out of all the people, he would understand me." James whispered the last line to himself.

Streams of tears rolled down his cheeks but he seemed unaffected by that.

“‘I know that you didn't kill her,' Jack told me. I felt so relieved. It felt like I got the stars in my hand. I was so happy."

“James, I know you didn't kill her. I meant, why you had to choose her of all the people," James was mouthing my dad’s words.

I was confused what James was heading towards, it was so unpredictable.

"Why did you have to love her when you knew I loved her more? Jack asked me."

"What? My father loved Lily too?"

James didn't answer to my question. He continued talking my dad's words," If you didn't love her, she would have been alive. I told you before that if I can't have her, no one can. You made me kill her James. You made me kill her. You are the bad guy."

My heart stopped for a bit. A prominent lump was choking me. Suddenly on a cold December morning I started to sweat.

Did I hear him right? I must have missed some part of the story.

James stopped talking. He didn’t continue anymore.

I was waiting for James to break out into one of his weird laughter and tell me that he was joking. I waited and waited but he didn't speak anymore.

"So, you are joking, right?" I asked my voice caught up in my throat, sounding timid.

"No. I am not joking." James replied looking straight into my eyes.

The intensity of his gaze could burn me.

Suddenly the phone started to ring in my bedroom. I was certainly not in a condition to walk to my room and answer the call. But I anyway stood up. My knees felt weak. My heart was racing so fast I could hear my own heartbeat. My fingertips were throbbing.

It's the alcohol. I told myself but I knew I was lying to myself.

I stumbled my way to my bedroom to attend the call. I saw the caller ID but my brain couldn't process it.

I picked up the call, “Hello?"

"Merry Christmas, son." I heard that same old familiar voice on the other side of the line.

I stayed quiet for a while unable to speak.

"Hello? Are you there?" the voice asked again.

"Who is James Oberoi, dad?” I finally managed to ask without giving out my fear, anger and all the mixed emotions.

My voice sounded foreign to my own ears.

"What?" my dad asked shocked but not surprised.

"You heard me."

He stayed silent for a while before replying, "He is your uncle."

"Why didn't you ever talk about him?"

"We kind of lost contact due to some family dispute."

“What kind?"

"Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?"

"I want to know." I replied with an air of finality.

He let out a heavy sigh and spent the next half hour explaining to me how James, my uncle, killed his high school girlfriend.

I saw it coming. I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t blame him. It was hard to belief. I didn’t want to judge my father on some random stranger who showed up at my doorstep identifying himself as my uncle. I needed to double check everything.

"Where does he live now?" I asked.

"Live? He died seven winters back."

"What?"

"Yeah"

"okay, I'll call you back later," I said hurriedly and hung up.

I rushed to my living room and saw that no one was on the couch. So I went to check in the other rooms. He wasn't in any of them.

I called the building caretaker.

"Hello, sir."

"Have you seen anyone leaving my apartment?"

"No sir," then he added," How can someone leave your apartment when no one went in."