Category Archives: Drama

Short Stories, Literary, Drama

The Discarded Gift

AUTHOR’S NOTES: Here’s the Christmas short story I promised. As I said earlier this week, it’s set in the small Midwestern town of Vienna, a place created by my friend and fellow writer, Nick Hayden. (Nick has ideas for his half of the story exchange percolating as I write, but I don’t know when he’ll have it done).

Just like Nick’s other Vienna, USA stories, this one is based loosely on an actual event. When Nick’s mother was in high school, a boy asked her out by climbing their hometown’s water tower and spray-painting her name on it. Besides that, many of the other details are cobbled together from my own experiences living near many small towns in Indiana (the comic shop and pizzeria are amalgams of several such places I’ve frequented). Speaking of the comic shop, I created that place (and the most of the characters seen or mentioned there) the first time I wrote a Vienna story back when Nick created this town as the setting for a serial called Cobblestones. Maybe I’ll post that story sometime. Ironically, it was called “The Gift.”

Anyway, take a break from your busy holiday schedule and enjoy this story. MERRY CHRISTMAS!

(FYI: If you’re reading this on the main page, click the title above so you’ll see the pagination).

 

The Discarded Gift
By Nathan Marchand

            The Mayans predicted the world would end today, and now Calvin Clark was wishing they were right.

            The cold night air bit his cheeks as he stepped out of the door, the fresh snow crunching under his dress shoes. It had been a long, tiring day at the offices of the ironically named Crook and Straus Law Office. It seemed all the Scrooges in Vienna—maybe even the whole county—wanted to file or settle all their lawsuits the last week before Christmas.

            I’m so sick of working here, thought Calvin as he buttoned up his navy blue wool trench coat over his suit. All I do is stare at papers documenting people’s petty squabbles. And if I hear one more “Clark the clerk” joke, they’ll be prosecuting a murder case! He pulled an equally-blue sock cap over his earthy hair, thinking, I didn’t go to college for this.

            Since he forgot his gloves, Calvin stuffed his hands into his pockets, and his freezing fingers rediscovered the pockets’ contents. He sighed, slumping his shoulders. Out of his right pocket he produced crinkled piece of yellow paper, which he unfolded. Written at the top in his legible but messy handwriting was, “Maria’s Christmas List.” He had drawn his little sister’s name in the family gift exchange, and she would be coming home on break from college in Florida.

            I’ve been so busy, I forgot to get her anything. I better do it now before she arrives tomorrow.

            Calvin pocketed the list again and started walking down the sidewalk. Downtown Vienna was only a few blocks away. His sister loved the quaint shops and avoided the Wal-Mart as much as she could, so he knew that would be the best place to buy gifts for her. While it was already six o’clock, most of the stores would be staying open a little later for last-minute shoppers like him.

            I’ll get the gifts and come back here for my car.

            The crowds thickened, the Christmas music amplified, and traffic congested the closer Calvin got to downtown. It was the annual Christmas on Main Street Celebration. He heard music by Trans-Siberian Orchestra, which was undoubtedly blaring from Mozart’s Music. The smells of freshly baked cookies and bread wafted through the icy air. The laughter of people young and old blended into a joyous noise. A rainbow of flashing colors from the thousands of lights splashed across the snow, making the cold powder sparkle, as he neared Main Street.

            It was then Calvin’s gait slowed. His feet felt heavier with each step. Finally, he stopped as he came to the corner of Main and Schett Streets. He hung his head. For a moment, he just stood there, breathing in cold air and breathing out mists that seemed to envelope him like a dark cloud.

            He wanted to shut out everything around him.

            I thought I could do this, but…

            He clenched white-knuckle fists in his pockets and gritted his teeth behind closed lips.

            Just go!

            He straightened, took a deep breath, and rounded the corner.

            Main Street was a Christmas card brought to life. Snow was piled along the edges of the cobblestone street and the sidewalks. Lights flashed. The night was illuminated. Wreaths hung on every door and every street lamp. Children, clad in their thick coats and earmuffs, dragged their parents into Candy’s Candies and Toyland, among other shops. Young couples nuzzled and cuddled on every bench. This last image pricked Calvin’s heart.

            If that was all there was, Calvin could have handled it. But he barely walked half-a-block before he heard the sound of the clip-clop of horseshoes against the cobblestones behind him. He stopped in front of Josie’s Just Desserts, bracing himself. He had hoped farmer Griffith was not bringing his horses in for the holiday carriage rides that night. That was obviously what the young couples on the benches were waiting for. The clatter came up beside him on the right. Then it stopped.

            He glanced over.

            There she was.

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Short Stories, Literary, Drama

You Are Not Alone

Rain pattered against the massive windows, skewing the plane as it descended from the sea of gray looming in the sky. Ethan had been sitting in the airport terminal for what seemed like hours, his hands folded, his head hung. Dozens of empty seats surrounded him like an army. The P.A. hardly, if ever, resounded. He looked up to see his flight crawl down the runway.

He glanced at his watch. His head fell as he sighed, his hand running through his muddy hair. Blockaded tears stung his sealed eyes. A deep breath helped steel his resolve. He zipped up his black jacket, picked up the duffel bag sitting at his feet, stood, and walked toward the gateway. He didn’t look back.

“Ethan, wait!”

Two steps from the gateway, he stopped, turning around. Zoe sprinted toward him. Her amber hair was drenched, nearly brown. Her soaked white university shirt clung to her every curve. Short but shapely legs half-hidden by jean shorts carried her swiftly, her flip-flops slapping her tiny feet.

Ethan just stood there, glowering.

Zoe ran to him, slowing to catch her breath. Her sapphire eyes looked up at Ethan, who was almost a head taller than her, rain pouring down her face. “I made it in time.”

Ethan crossed his arms. “No, you’re late.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get your e-mail until after my economics class. I had no idea you were going to leave.”

“Nobody did because nobody cared.”

Zoe’s lip quivered. “How could–”

“—I say that? Because I’ve been at that college for five months and no one accepts me. A few people act like they’re my friends, but it’s nothing but masks. I did all I could to fit in, make friends, but I’m just some weird artist to them, so they treat me like a leper.”

“I’m…sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for them!” snapped Ethan, pointing accusatively. “You listened to them. You and all the other freshmen let the upperclassmen decide who your friends should be, who was allowed to join the student aristocracy. You were one of them by the end of the first semester.”

Zoe dropped her gaze. “I had no idea they were hurting you so much.”

“You never asked.” Ethan shook his head. “When I met you the first day of classes, I thought you were different. You went to my art exhibits and my poetry recitations. You seemed to understand me. I guess I was wrong.”

“I came here, didn’t I?”

“I don’t know why. None of your ‘friends’ bothered to come. It just proves what I’ve known all along—nobody would miss me if I died tomorrow.”

Zoe sealed her eyes and clenched her fists. “Would it help if—“

“I don’t want to hear it!” shot Ethan, waving his hand dismissively. “It won’t change that I’m cursed to be an outcast everywhere I go. Even home isn’t home anymore. I sent that e-mail to everyone I knew, and even my parents haven’t tried to stop me. What does that tell you?”

Zoe wrung her hands, her eyes staring at the floor and her body tense. “I don’t know…”

“It tells me that I am, and always will be, alone.”

Zoe stood there in silence.

Ethan glanced at the window as the thunderous hum of the passenger jet whined in his ears. “My flight is here finally,” he said, looking back at Zoe. “I have to go.”

“Where?” she asked, her voice cracking.

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Short Stories, Literary, Drama

Gravedigger

After weeks of searching, I’d finally found a decent job—at a graveyard. But after only a few hours of work on my first day, Adam, my boss, insisted I come with him outside. My buddies told me this wasn’t good, but hey, what am I supposed to do? Tell him, “No,” and get fired?

Adam led me into the heart of the graveyard, an ocean of dead yellow grass peppered with black and gray headstones. When we reached the center of the property, Adam stopped, and handed me a rusty shovel. “Dig, boy.”

“For what?” I retorted. “Jack Sparrow’s pot o’ gold?”

“You heard me–dig. And don’t stop ‘til I tell you.”

With that, he walked away.

I sighed, and stabbed the ground with the shovel. The soil was strangely soft. I quickly piled it into a dry heap, nearly suffocating on the dust cloud that enveloped me with every scoop of dirt.

Hours passed. Adam never told me to stop. Heck, I never saw him again that day. The hole deepened, and I slowly descended into it. I didn’t notice how far down I was until I stopped briefly to wipe the sweat from my forehead. The ground was eye-level with me. I cursed my dumb luck, and threw another shovel-full of dirt over my head.

When the ground was a foot over my head, I heard several gruff voices talking about things I don’t care to repeat. After a few minutes, there was a loud thud, like something had been stabbed into the ground.

“What’s going on?” I called.

“Just keep digging, just keep digging,” said one of the voices, sarcastically. I heard his friends laugh and give him high-fives. Then they left.

I kept digging.

Darkness was descending. I’d lost track of time. Where’s Adam? How long do I have to keep digging? I could hardly see above me. Was this some kind of cruel joke? My veins burned, my muscles screamed in pain.

I kept digging.

“Hey!” a voice from above suddenly called.

Sighing, I said, “Is that you, Adam?”

“No,” he said, and quickly moved on. “Do you realize what you’re doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You must stop now!”

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