The Gift
by Kernisha Lynne Duvall May 2012
This is a work of pure fiction and does not reflect the personal beliefs of the author. Any resemblance to places or people living or dead is purely coincidental, and not meant to cause stress or harm.
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Larry Robinson was an odd sort of kid. Although he looked like dream of every American dad – broad-shouldered and tall with a physique sturdy enough to inspire dreams of him being the next football legend, he was anything but. He hated the way he looked because he looked like his father. And he hated sports because that’s what his father liked.
At the tender age of twelve, Larry had also developed a dislike of people that disturbed his mother. He thought them overemotional and useless, and if it wasn’t for school he would avoid them. People often did unpredictable things like getting divorced. Again he blamed his father for this since he would often argue with his mother and leave the house. The last time was for good. His father promised to visit him regularly, but it was becoming obvious that that would never happen. Indeed, today was Larry’s birthday, and he hadn’t even gotten him a present.
Larry had recently decided that he didn’t care about him anymore and threw his interests into science. It wasn’t emotional, or unpredictable (at least not in the way his father had been), and more importantly science wouldn’t abandon him. Larry spent long hours running all sorts of experiments on different things in the name of science, that’s why it didn’t surprise William to see him standing off to the side of the new home that his mother had just bought. He was alone, running experiments on some butterflies he caught in a jar. To him it was entertainment, but William saw it clearly for the torture it was.
William decided to make his move now, while the boy was distracted by his disgusting experiments, wondering how disgusting he was himself as he silently opened the trunk of his car. He’d never done anything like this before and he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.
William made sure that the lady was still in his trunk before he continued. She looked so still and lifeless that it would be strange to him is she wasn’t, but a lot of strange things had happened in the last few days and he wasn’t taking any chances. He tucked her in a bit more, making sure she was settled. She stared at him with large blank eyes.
Once he made sure she was settled, he then took out the bait he had for Larry. He knew he was doing the right thing, although there were others, even Zalea, who might think this was a bit extreme.
Zalea. She used to straddle him in bed, planting sweet kisses on his face, telling him how handsome he was, how much she loved him. She was the only person who ever said so. She was the only person he could remember ever saying it to.
The first time he met her he was surprised because it wasn’t the first time he had met her. He was the head of their research department and she was an assistant to an assistant to an assistant – someone so low on the totem pole that she shouldn’t have been at the fundraising dinner for the company’s new project but there she was. Zalea Larrieux. The love of his life.
She was stunning. Her long black dress showed off her body’s healthy curves. Her curly hair was pulled back into a soft chignon. But what he would always remember most about the night they met were her eyes. She had such large, chocolate eyes full of intelligence and seductive understanding.
William wondered why he never noticed her before. Sure lab coats and goggles made everyone look like a first class nerd but the way her head turned towards the podium, exposing the graceful lines of her neck as she listened to the event’s host – that was classic.
Their relationship built and moved so fast. Within the year she was living with him, her whole childhood crammed into his sanctuary. One day he looked around his bedroom wondering how she’d managed to get so many girly things into his previously stark masculine bedroom when he saw something strange and picked it up. It was one of her dolls.
“I see Lady Butterfly has found you,” Zalea said kissing him.
“This has a name?” he asked examining the raggedy thing in his hands. The face was made out of some kind of clay-like material that was rough and cracked from years of exposure. The body seemed to be made of straw and dressed in old multicolored rags. It may have been beautiful once but now it seemed like the kind of thing that should be chucked out the window, not sitting in the middle of his bed with a name attached.
“She’s a djab. All djabs have a name,” she said. “Especially my Lady Butterfly who always helps me whenever I need her. Please don’t ever throw her out. She won’t like it if you do.”
William realized that he was holding a voodoo doll. It had to be a family heirloom or something because they were scientists. He didn’t believe in voodoo and neither did she, but he knew her relatives did which explained why she was in possession of such a thing. Zalea seemed to have a strong emotional attachment to it, as well, for she was sitting on their bed cooing to it like it was a baby.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Do you need to nurse her?”
Zalea threw a pillow at him and laughed. “No, crazy. But I am going to pass her on to our daughter one day.”
“I don’t know about that. You sure it won’t scare her?” William was making jokes trying to hide his elation that she was thinking about starting a family with him. He thought about giving her the ring he bought just then, but he was still nervous and held back. What if something terrible happened? What if she left him?
“Oh no! Now you’ve insulted her,” Zalea kept laughing as he pushed her down and tickled her. “Now she’s going to get you .”
“If I kiss her, will she forgive me?” he asked.
“I don’t know. But if you kiss me, I’ll put in a good word for you.”
“Really?”
“Really. I love you, you know.” Zalea had stopped laughing and was talking with a soft solemn whisper, her vulnerability gave him courage.
He pressed his lips against hers. “I love you too, Zee,” he told her just before their tongues came together.
William shook his head free from his memories. There was nothing for Zalea to love now. He was a murderer with a world full of sins weighing down his soul and he knew Zalea would hate him for what he allowed himself to become. But he had an opportunity to change things, he thought, as he looked at Larry with determination. He took a step forward. He’d come too far to mess things up now.
For his part, Larry had just concluded his experiments on the butterflies and wondered whether or not he should let them go. He was about to make a decision when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see a man standing there, staring at him.
The man seemed odd. It wasn’t that he was old and ugly, although that was enough. Lines too haggard to be called wrinkles covered his face and he was muscular, but bent over as though the weight of the world was sitting on his shoulders. His eyes seemed cloudy and dead and his lips were set in a very grim line.
Yes, that was enough to offend the handsome youth, but what bothered Larry the most was that this odd, eerie old man seemed familiar and that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He knew he didn’t know this man who was blocking the path to his mother’s front door. Larry looked around but there was no escape and no one to call for help.
“Save your screaming, kid. I’m not going to hurt you, “ said William.
Larry backed away, overturning the jar full of butterflies. They were all big and black, their wings like crows feathers as they hastened away while he tried to calculate his odds of getting out of this situation.
“Relax,” William continued as he moved closer. He was digging in his pockets. “I just want to give you something.”
Larry watched William pull something from his pockets. It was br
ight, silver, and shaped like…
“A football? Larry asked the question like he’d just been insulted. The tension in his shoulders released and he realized he was in no danger from the man he previously thought to be a pervert. In fact the man stopped moving forward, and knelt down placing the football on the grass between them.
“I hate football,” he told him wondering why he had been given such a thing.
“I know,” said William. Football wasn’t the best lure for a kid like him, but he was hoping to catch his attention. He had to get his attention, needed to make him understand what he had to do. “Your dad wanted you to have it.”
“Then why couldn’t he give it to me himself?”
Precocious little cuss, but it was an excellent question. One that William wasn’t sure how to answer. Should he tell him that his father was dead? No, that would ruin things. The body wouldn’t be found for another few days, Larry didn’t need to know what was coming. Besides, with