Thorny Thursday — Elias Monk & the Gift

Life goes on after the carousing ends

image created by A.C. Cargill

Continued from A Pivotal Moment

“Happy birthday to you,” sang the members of Diabetes Is Not the End. Several voices were off-key, but the sentiment was clearly positive. Nevertheless, Elias Monk cringed inwardly.

Elias hated birthdays. Every year they had gotten him a year further from his youth, a year closer to the inevitable, the thing that awaits us all. He had done his best to stay in a youthful frame of mind. He had spent time in bars, dancing to whatever music was “the latest,” picking up the most beautiful woman he could after coaxing her to imbibe sufficient alcohol, and having a jolly good time back at his house. He thought, mistakenly, that it would stave off that inevitable event.

Meanwhile, his hair had thinned, his belly had begun to develop that “middle age spread,” and the acne scars on his weathered face had become more pronounced as the skin on his face had sagged. He had also begun wearing lifts in his shoes, self-conscious about being shorter than average at five-and-a-half feet tall. And he had dressed in the latest fashions when going out to troll the bars.

A few months ago, all that had changed. He had passed out at work. Concerned co-workers had called for an ambulance. At the hospital, the doctor had diagnosed his problem as diabetes.

Now Elias attended group meetings every week with his new girlfriend, Amanda Hopkins, the group head. He loved her warm smile, the way she really listened when he railed on about problems at work, and the fact that she wouldn’t sleep with him.

“I like you very much,” she had told him when he had first proposed her staying the night after the dinner they had prepared together in his kitchen. “However, I’m not one of your bimbos.”

“I didn’t mean…that is, it was just a suggestion…I respect you,” stammered Elias.

“It’s not about you respecting me,” said Amanda, keeping that warm tone in her voice. “It’s about me not being up to taking that next step with you yet. Call me old-fashioned—”

“No! Not at all,” protested Elias.

He had let the matter slide after that. They had spent a couple evenings a week on the living room sofa watching old movies. He liked Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney, especially the gangster films. She liked Charlie Chan mysteries, Boris Karloff, and Vincent Price. They would trade off, watching one he wanted one night and one she wanted the next time she was there.

Adjusting to the new diet had been a lot harder than giving up his carousing. He had been getting tired of the bar scene without even realizing it. He had shelled out more and more money on drinks to get a woman to go home with him. And he had awakened with a hangover that lasted longer each time. Now he just bemoaned not being able to have pasta, martinis, and the other foods and beverages he had previously freely imbibed. The years were catching up with him. The inevitable was approaching, breathing hot down the back of his neck.

And now here he was at another birthday. His fifty-eighth.

“You can have a thin slice of cake,” said a group member, cutting off the sliver of chocolate cake layered with chocolate butter cream frosting.

Elias took the plate and a plastic fork. “Thanks, everyone. It’s been tough, but I’m getting used to it. You all—especially Amanda—have been a great help.” He took a bite, exclaimed with exaggerated enthusiasm, “Mmm!”

People laughed and then accepted an equally thin slice from the group member cutting the cake.

“We all chipped in and got you this,” said an obese woman with small eyes, an upturned nose, and a very accommodating nature. Nothing ever seemed to make her angry, which made Elias wonder about her since he felt angry a lot.

The woman handed Elias a box about twelve inches on each side.

“Wow! Thanks,” said Elias, feeling the weight of the box. “Bowling ball?”

Group members laughed.

“Not quite,” said a tall, thin man whose glasses constantly slid down his nose. “Open it at home.”

“Uh, sure,” said Elias, puzzling over what the contents could be. He gave Amanda a questioning look, but she just smiled innocently at him.

They finished eating their thin slices of cake and the meeting of Diabetes Is Not the End was done for that night. The members all shook Elias’ hand and then left.

“How about watching a movie tonight?” asked Amanda, remaining behind.

“Sure,” said Elias, pleased but puzzled since it wasn’t their regular movie night.

They headed to his car, and he drove them to his house. Once inside, he placed the gift on the kitchen counter.

“Go ahead and open it,” said Amanda.

Elias grinned and began ripping wrapping paper off the box. Then he opened it and took out the object inside.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“A crystal ball,” said Amanda, “you know, like those carnival fortune tellers use, except this one really works.”

“C’mon, you’re kidding me,” said Elias.

“Go ahead, try it.”

Elias shrugged, sure that this was some kind of joke, but for now he was willing to go along. He set the crystal ball and its stand on the counter. The stand—a circle with three talons reaching up from it—appeared to be tarnished silver. The talons seemed to grasp the ball tightly as he set it down. He jumped a little and stood a moment gazing into the shining glass. Then he gasped!

“See,” said Amanda. “It works.”

“But I saw…that can’t be…I mean, not yet…I’m not ready,” said Elias, breathing heavily and staring at the ball and then her with eyes wide.

“No one ever is,” said Amanda, “but at least you have the foreknowledge.” She reached out her hand to him and led him to the bedroom.

That night he had the best sexual experience of his life. They fell asleep in each others arms. In the morning, he awoke beside Amanda. Gone was the warmth that had emanated from her through that smile and those sparkling eyes. Her skin felt cold. He felt for a pulse and found none. The crystal ball had been right. And it had prepared him for this. He felt tears form and then slide down his acne-scarred cheeks. No amount of preparation could take away the sense of loss that overwhelmed him.

Elias called for an ambulance. While waiting for them, he opened the box that the crystal ball had come in. He was about to put the ball back in its box when he saw a small card at the bottom. He took it out and read the fancy script type: One fortune to an owner. He put the card back in the box and then the tarnished silver stand and the glass ball, ready to be passed on to the next owner.

“Thank you, Amanda,” he said softly as the EMTs took her body away. “That’s the best birthday gift I’ve ever received.” He wasn’t sure if he meant the foreknowledge or that night spent with her. But it didn’t matter.

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Thanks for reading. If you’ve been enjoying my flash fiction on here, please check out my first book of short stories (a couple are actually novelette length), newly published by Wordwooze Publishing. (I even designed the cover.)

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