The Gift
A Tale of Ace Gallagher parody of “The Gift of the Magi” by O. Henry
By Jill D’Entremont
- I -
Ace narrowed his eyes as he looked down the line of leather sheaths. They were all expertly crafted with tight stitching and colorful dyes, and many had even been sewn with intricate patterns with their layers of color. It was almost impossible for him to choose one.
He finally selected one with a deep green stain capped with tan ends. His focused expression turned into wide-eyed shock when he saw the price listed on the back.
“Can I help you with anything?” The friendly shop attendant appeared at his back.
He turned around, his mouth still agape.
“Oh,” the attendant laughed somewhat, her hand on her hip, “Yes, that one is a bit pricey due to the extra work required. If you’re looking for one more within a modest budget, I’d look on this side.”
Ace followed the woman’s hand to the start of the rack. “Oh, thank you.”
The attendant nodded, then pointed to the guitar slung over Ace’s shoulder. “I see you’re a guitarist?”
“Yep–I just came from playing at the tavern,” he adjusted the strap to tuck the head of the guitar closer to his legs. Without a case, he simply flipped the guitar to his back to carry it to and from his gigs.
“Well, we sell guitar cases whenever you’re in the market!” The attendant gestured over her shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything else.” She then left Ace alone.
“Yeah, when I can afford one,” the musician sighed and stepped up to the cheaper sheaths. Gone were the colors and layers and patterns, but the craftsmanship was still apparent. Surely even the plainest of sheaths would be a good gift for Athena.
He winced as he turned over a light tan sheath. It was still far beyond his budget.
He deflated with a sigh. “So much for this idea.”
Ace stepped outside the leatherworking shop. The cold winter wind rose to meet him, biting the bare skin of his face. He shivered and bundled tighter within his coat.
It was Christmas Eve, and the streets were full of people like him: last minute shoppers trying their best to find the perfect gifts for friends and family before the stores closed down for the holiday. He stuck close to the front of the building so as to stay out of the way of those bustling along the streets and sidewalks. Even the act of fishing out his moneybag from his pocket required either his guitar or his elbow to bend into oncoming walkers, and after a few annoyed words, he opted to follow the flow and duck into the alley on the side of the shop.
“I suppose this is my own fault for waiting until today,” he mumbled, finally holding the small, jingling bag in his hand. He poured the coins into the palm of his other hand–fairly warm within his fingerless gloves–and poked each one to count what he had left.
He had never bought Christmas gifts before. As a young child, his mother had always packaged up gifts for him to hand to his father or brother, giving him the credit. After running away from home, he was too focused on survival–and too separated from others–to worry about giving gifts.
But now, he was surprised to discover how much he wanted to buy something for his friends–if for no other reason than to show some small token of his appreciation for their friendship. His meager savings wasn’t much, but he knew he could make something work out–especially since Mioko, Raeya, Ed, and Vance were visiting family and therefore not participating in their Christmas Eve gift swap.
As a potion maker, Dorian was fairly easy to find gifts for. He always needed ingredients and bottles to keep them in, so a quick stop at the general store gained Ace a set of three, small, used bottles with fresh cork stoppers. He had even spent less than his budget on the gift, leaving him feeling accomplished.
Meanwhile, Athena, the apprentice swordsmith, should have been just as easy to find a gift for. She had recently forged her first solo piece: a steel dagger inlaid with bronze metalwork on the hilt. Her teacher had allowed her to keep it, and she currently wore it on her belt with a small leather frog that was almost too large to hold it properly. He had wanted to buy her a true sheath to keep it in; but, even with the extra coins left over from Dorian’s half of his budget, the cheapest of sheaths were far beyond what he could afford.
He sighed and slipped the coins back into his moneybag. “What can I get her?” He spoke aloud. “She’s so proud of that dagger; I want to get her something to go with it.”
In the lull of foot traffic, he managed to slip back out of the alley and walked back in front of the leather shop’s window. On display was a small dagger within a simply built box lined with deep green felt.
“Oh!”
Clutching his guitar strap, he darted back to the door slid back inside the shop just as someone else slipped out.
“Excuse me!” He saw the shop assistant standing with another customer near the back of the room.
“May I help you?” The older shop owner spoke up gruffly from behind his counter at his side.
“Um–yes! I was wondering if you had any more boxes like that one in the window–with the dagger in it.” While speaking, he created an invisible box with his gloved fingers.
“No, that’s the only one,” the man replied, stepping out from behind the counter. “But you’re welcome to it.”
Ace stood with bated breath as the older man removed the dagger and placed it on the wooden shelf alone. He then closed the box and handed the box to Ace.
Ace rubbed his fingers against the dark stained wood. It was simple; no frills or intricacies on the outside. But when he lifted the lid, the deep green of the felt inside the box truly made a statement of its own. Better yet–he knew it would fit Athena’s dagger perfectly.
“This is perfect,” Ace closed the lid. “How much would you take for it?”
“Seven gold,” he nodded.
Ace inhaled, then sighed. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
The man watched as Ace tried to return the box to him. He held up his hand to stop him. “How much do you have?”
“Four,” Ace replied, chewing on his lip. “And eight silver.”
“I’ll let you take the box now for the four,” the man said, “if you can pay the rest later.”
The gambler perked up. “Would you?”
The man returned to his counter. “In the spirit of Christmas, I would.”
Ace followed on his heels. “Oh–thank you, sir–I really–”
“But.”
Ace skidded to a stop upon the word.
“I’ll need something of yours for collateral.”
He blinked. “What’s… collateral?”
The man opened the money box on the counter. “I keep something of yours to make sure you come back to pay the rest.” He held open his hand. “Four, please.”
Ace took out his four gold pieces and set them into the man’s hand.
“When you pay off the rest, I give it back to you.” He set Ace’s four coins within the box and took out a small piece of paper.
Ace idly adjusted the strap of his guitar. “That’s… fair.”
The man scribbled a few words onto the paper. “Now, what are you leaving with me?”
“Um,” Ace gripped his guitar strap tighter as realization hit him. “All I’ve got that’s worth anything is my guitar, though the strings aren’t very good anymore; I’ve been needing some new ones…”
“I’ll accept it.” The man held out his hands with the same stoic expression on his face.
Despite the sinking feeling in his stomach from temporarily leaving part of his livelihood behind, he knew it would be worth getting Athena a box to keep her dagger in–like a keepsake to remember the first blade she ever made.
He removed his guitar and handed it to the shopkeeper.
“I’ll keep it safe.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I know. What’s your name, lad?”
“Ace Gallagher.”
The older man nodded and scribbled Ace’s name on the paper.
Ace bit his lip as the man handed him a piece of paper that simply said ‘Less 3 for Dagger Box. Upon payment, return guitar to Ace Gallagher.’ The man’s scribbled signature sealed the deal.
“Thank you, Mr. Gallagher.”
“Thank you, sir,” Ace offered a short bow, clutched the wooden box and the piece of paper, and left the shop.
