August 26, 2008
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[Short Story]The Gift
John was sitting at his usual table lost in thought when she sat down across from him.
He looked up. At first he didn’t recognize her. There was something
different about her. Emerald eyes that had once darted around filled
with wonder, hinting at mischief yet to be unleashed, now sat dead
inside her head. The lines on her face were harder and the way she held
herself more stiff.
She wasn’t the girl he had taken here so many years ago. But that
didn’t matter. He’d been hoping for so long that she’d come it was all
he could do to keep himself from leaping up and making a spectacle of
himself in this high class establishment. The grin on his face was as
wide as a river. She came. She finally came back.
“You came!” His voice was filled with wonder and excitement.
“You didn’t”, she said simply.
She couldn’t have hurt him more if she had taken the candle burning in
the center of the table and shoved it into his eye. Years of worrying
and wondering and searching and not knowing what to do came back to him
in a rush. His happiness was doused in an instance. He struggled with
himself trying to find the words to say to explain himself. For a time
he stumbled over his words, trying to describe all that had happened
over the last five years, trying to make her see things from his
perspective. But her face was impassive and his words sounded so empty
to his own ears. So false.
Finally he shut up, looked down at his plate, took a deep breathe and steadied himself. He looked up into those impassive eyes.
“I tried.”
“But not very hard.”
“No. Not hard enough. I never claimed I was a hero.”
“You made me think you could be mine.”
“I’m sorry.”
The words stretched out between them and the silence dragged on. She
didn’t accept his apology. Yet she didn’t rage at him or accuse him.
She didn’t try to hurt him. And she didn’t turn away. The silent stare
was so much worse. The old Dee had had so much passion and energy in
all that she did. This girl before him seemed like nothing could stir
her.
Finally, John couldn’t take it anymore. He had to ask the one question he didn’t want to know the answer to.
“What happened to you?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I have to. Tell me.”
There was a long pause. Finally she spoke.
“It was just like my dream.”
John shuddered. He’d told her to forget about the dream. He’d told her it was nothing. Begged her not to worry about it. It was just a dream.
“I was passed from owner to owner. Some were kind. Most weren’t. The
bad ones… they made me… ” She paused and then continued. “They took
away my freedom. I was not allowed to have an opinion or a voice. I was
not supposed to show emotion. They took away my identity. They took
away my name. And they gave me a new one. A pet name. They called me
Dig. Little Diggy. Dig the dog. Dig the Pig. Dig fetch my coat. Dig
make sure the kitchen is spotless by the time I get back. Strip for me
Dig…”
The description went on and on. The words were said without inflection.
But the rage behind them seared the air between them. John didn’t know
when he had started crying but he knew the tears were pouring down his
face now.
“If I’d know…”
Dee was unforgiving.
“You should have known. I waited for you. “
John shuddered again. He took a few deep breathes to pull himself
together. She was right of course. He’d known all along that he was the
only one who she’d trusted. He was the only one who could have helped
her if something was truly wrong. But he’d failed. Utterly. The gapping
truth of that was too much for him to face. So he clung to the one good
thought thatwas left to him.
“But you’re here! You got away somehow. You’re safe now.” He reached out a hand toward her. She pulled away out of his reach.
John continued. “I swear to you I won’t let anybody ever hurt you or take you away again. I’ll protect you.”
For the first time Dee smiled but it was a cruel smile. She chuckled darkly.
“You couldn’t. You can’t.”
“I won’t fail.”
“It’s too late now John. It’s too late for you to save me. And I didn’t come here so that you could protect me.”
She stood up.
“Why did you come then?”
“I came to tell you to stop looking for me.”
And with that she turned and started to walk out of the restaurant. For
a moment, John just watched her walk away, too much in shock to move.
But then he realized what was happening. No, he thought. I can’t lose her again.
He leaped up out of his chair knocking over his glass and ran around
the table, ran after her yelling for her to stop, to come back. As he
closed the gap between them, he reached out to grab her, to hold her to
him. To hold her tight and never let her go again.
And his hands passed through her. Dee was gone.
John looked around in terror and confusion. “NO!” he shouted out loud.
She can’t be gone! Not again! And his eyes lighted upon all the
restaurant patrons staring at him with shock and pity in their eyes.
And then as his gaze met theirs, as if on silent cue they all
studiously turned their heads away to leave him to his silent torment.
What was going? Where had Dee gone? Why were they all looking at him
like that? Didn’t they see how she’d vanished? Or had she never been
there in the first place? Was she just a figment of his grief shattered
mind? Maybe they were right to stare. Maybe he was going crazy.
Suddenly he remembered her words. I came to tell you to stop looking for me. John trembled from his head down to his toes. John knew. He wasn’t crazy. She’d told him plain as day.
It’s too late for you to save me.
John had never thought himself a strong man. But he surprised himself
that day. Somehow he managed to keep his feet even though he felt like
reality was crashing down around him. Somehow he held back the tears
that threatened to come rushing out in an endless flood. Somehow he
managed to make himself stand up straight, adjust his suit and walk
with dignity back to his table and ignore the surreptitious worried
glances being cast in his direction. Somehow.
He carelessly dropped money to pay his bill. And then he pulled out of
his pocket the gift he had held on to for all these years. He had
planned to give it to her but never got a chance. A key chain with a
carved dolphin with her initials carved into it. It wasn’t much. But he
knew she would have loved it. At least the old Dee would have. She’d
once told him the Dolphin was her spirit animal, that she felt a
special kinship to it. It reminded him of her too, the majestic freedom
of its movements. Free like she was always meant to be.
John left the box with the key chain on the chair that had been hers. He blew out the candle on the table.
“Happy Birthday Deanna.”
And then he let her go.
Comments (8)
is this from personal experience?
it touches something deep.
@duckling8912 - I hope not.
wow…so depressing,but so well written! *claps*
This is good, but it feels incomplete somehow. It reads more like an excerpt from a novel rather than a short story.
See, short stories are tough in that you have to give the reader eveything they need to know about a character in a small amount of space. You can’t give a lot of back story because that get tedious, but at the same time, you can’t leave too much to the imagination because then it doesn’t feel whole.
One thing to be aware of is how you build tension. Holding out on the identity of a character is a pretty common way of doing it, but there has to be a reason you’re not releasing that information right away. Like with Dee, you don’t say her name until about half way through, but when you do find out, there wasn’t really any purpose in holding out on us. A better way in this story may have been to add another paragraph before he says “You came!” briefly explaining who dee was and why he was anxious about the encounter — why her coming would be a suprise or relief. When you write, always abide by the rule “Show. Don’t tell.” You can’t just tell us it was suprising she showed up and expect the reader to have any empathy for the character. You have to show us what her showing up means.
Adding an exposition paragraph would also keep it from getting repetitious at that point because you say “She came. She finally came back.” then have the character immediately shout “You came!” There is no point in having that thought told to the reader if he was just going to say it out loud in the next line. It’s redundant. You either need to cut “She came. She finally came back.” or put a bit of space between the two.
Hope you don’t mind me getting all editor on you. If you want me to keep my opinions to myself just say the word. I know ordinarily rational people get a little sensitive over their writing. But the story is good, and I like to see good things become even better.
OMG.
@elvesdoitbetter - Oh I definitely don’t mind! Your thoughts are very helpful
I love how some of my xanga friends seem bent on making me into a better writer! Saves me the money of taking writing classes! ^_^ (note i almost did no writing in college, except for some philosophy classes which aren’t the same at all)
I agree with you about the redundancy and figuring out how to start that story was really hard. In fact that’s one of the things I have the hardest time with in general. Showing and not telling is also something I need a great deal of practice on. But again that’s why I have Xanga!
Thanks for your thoughtful review. You’re awesome elves, and I’m really always glad for your thoughtful comments.
I’m not sure if you read it but I wrote another story on Xanga a while ago. It’s a little long, but if you’re ever bored, I’d appreciate your professional opinion on it as well. http://weblog.xanga.com/nephyo/662510523/short-story-imperfect.html
Thanks again!
@fullmetalbunny - OMG good or OMG bad? or OMG you don’t know? or OMG something completely unrelated? or OMG you just love the letters Oh Em Gee?
@nephyo - Haha, I would never say “OMG bad”! I was just impressed.
It’s not common to see a lot of emotion in writing, even writing of the professional variety. So “OMG good”.