The Gift

"How much is that one?" I ask the cashier as pointed at the gold cross through the display glass.

Her attention diverted from the small TV screen next to the counter, I almost feel as if I am

imposing on her with my query. "Uh... 16.75 with tax," she responded in a semi-apathetic tone. I

wonder for a second if she had just arbitrarily pulled that amount out of her ass. "I'll take it," I

place a 20 dollar bill on the counter and wait as she hurriedly completes the transaction with thinly

veiled annoyance. I walk outside the store and into the common section of the galleria. I stand

outside and take the trinket out of its small bag and hold it between my hands. I attempt to block

out the bustling crowds and the faint smell of food emanating from the pretzel stand a few feet

away. I hold the trinket between my fingers and stare intently at the small gold colored cross before

muttering to no one in particular "you'll have to do." I was not the recipient of the particular type of

clairvoyance which makes someone a talented gift giver, but for the first time I feel that my gift will

be received with genuine joy. I hurriedly replace the cross inside its bag before marching off to my

car. Shopping was another pastime I failed to become accustom to, and the only reward for being in

that dingy place was the plethora of erect nipples whose outlines you could distinctly recognize in

the many young girls who refused to wear a bra when going to the mall. The long walk to my car

instilled in me an anxiety which would manifest itself in several physical tics like the grinding of my

teeth and my uncontrollable urge to twirl the plastic bag I am carrying. I arrive at my car and to my

horror; I realize that the small ziploc bag containing the cross I had purchased for my mother is no

longer inside the plastic bag. I retrace my steps several times, but the small bag containing that

precious treasure is nowhere to be found, my heart sinks as I realize that I cannot afford to

purchase a replacement. Dejected and annoyed, I return to my car cursing my impatience and

stupidity. I undertake the somber drive home and stop at a red light. An old man stands by the

intersection; he is wearing a tattered jacket with grimy jeans, his shirt is plaid and dirty and he is

wearing visibly worn shoes that seem to be held together by filth. He is holding a cardboard piece

which reads GOING THRU HARD TIMES ANY HELP IS APRICIATED. His succinct plea shocks me into

reconciling the stupidity of my previous anger. I reach in my pocket for the change I had left. I

beckon him towards me and place the three dollars and twenty-five cents I had left for the week in

his crusty weathered hand.  I am filled with righteousness as he seems genuinely happy to accept

the alms I offer. With a glint of shame in his eyes he smiles and accepts the money, "God bless

you son." I smile back at him and tell him, "I'm atheist sir" He looks back at me with a solemn

expression, the sadness in his eyes speaks volumes, he exclaims "I'm sorry," he really means it.

Keyword: religion atheism existentialism the absurd

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Comments (8)

Posted by Zombie Punk 2008-07-08 02:13:59 .... You forgot the word "I" in first line. I have a question, what was the point of this story? yeah, he loses a cross and he's an athiest, so what? + Report this comment
Posted by fevilleg 2008-07-08 02:18:19 existentialism ever read any existentialist philosphy? are you familiar with Camus, Sartre, Nietzsche and the absurd? + Report this comment
Posted by Zombie Punk 2008-07-08 02:19:46 .... Can't say that I have. But I'm guessing if I did I would understand this story better, huh? + Report this comment
Posted by indianaman130 2008-07-08 02:32:50 .... man creates god, who creates man, who gives man purpose. Man uses god for excuses to do anything like killing and stealing, or god uses man to kill his own misguided children and spread his word that a man says he speaks. sorry, tired of people trying to preach to me about Jesus (like the pope) who have yet to live like the man or love the man because he said something like, " if you love me, you will keep my commandments." and with the world spinning around money, and the only people Jesus got mad at were the moneychangers on the steps of the church, well im ranting, just like your story. + Report this comment
Posted by brandon_scott 2008-07-08 16:05:13 .... I thought the story was great. I'm also not sure I understand the relationship between losing the cross and the conversation with the homeless man, but the story itself felt genuine somehow. I liked the part about the only reward for being in the mall ws the plethora of erect nipples. That was hilarious. + Report this comment
Posted by lemon 2008-07-08 16:24:40 .... I thought it was interesting, except for the nipple observation..that was just funny. I have one question about the story though, at the end when the bum says he's sorry.. Is he saying he's sorry for telling an atheist God bless you? Or is he saying he's sorry that the guy IS an athiest? + Report this comment
Posted by fevilleg 2008-07-08 16:35:05 .... hey lemon, the old man in the end tells him "im sorry" because the boy is an atheist. + Report this comment
Posted by elenalda 2008-07-08 16:43:14 .... I had that exact experience (the one at the end.) How strange. I liked this. It was a nice little vignette with form and purpose. I would work on word choice a little--is the drive home really "somber?" It comes off a little thesaurus-y. Double-check your grammar as well: the sentence starting with "I retrace my steps" should be split in two or beautified with a semicolon or dash. Nicely done, though. + Report this comment

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