A Christmas Gift To Always Remember

Its the middle of the night. A glowing light hovers by my bedroom window. Although scared, for some unexplainable reason I open the window. A small powerful drone buzzes in. It flashes a light, spotlighting my face. I squint and try to shield my eyes from the light. As I uncover my eyes, every trace and semblance of the drone is gone except for one package. Wind splashes my curtains around adding to the lore of the situation. Its chilly and my breath is becoming visible as I step closer to the package. Its about 50 degrees outside.

The package is a present. It has snowflakes on a black background. Red ribbon adorns it. I pick it up and shake it gently. There is something inside that rattles when shaken. Curious, I look for a tag or note that carries information about the package. There isn't one. I look for the tape on the end of the package to slyly remove and peek inside. Even more curious, I can't seem to locate any visible seam or any taped portions. There seems to be nothing out of the ordinary about how it feels. It feels like wrapping paper covers the outside, but surely if it were paper there would be a seam. I tip the package back and forth and listen. I hear as the contents slides back and forth. I grab a pair of scissors. I open the scissors, ready to attempt to try and puncture the box instead of stab into it. I decide this would be safer in protecting its contents. As I try to make my first puncture into the corner, I realize its impermeable. The scissors keep slipping. When I hold the package directly under the light to inspect it, again I am surprised. There is no mark, scratch, or visible sign of my attempts at entry. But how could this possibly be?!

I would spend the next 4 hours striving to solve the conundrum of this package. Every attempt proved fruitless. Even more perplexing and frustrating was at the end of the four hours the package remained as intact as it had at the start of it. I wiped the sweat from my forehead before it had a chance to drip into my eyes.

As I prepared for bed, my mind was consumed with this present. Maddened by my inefficiency and inaptitude with opening it, I decide to try again tomorrow. I place it on my mantle between my other Christmas decorations. Its an embellishing ornamental addition to my current décor. At least it would add to my overall ascetic for my Christmas party, if nothing else. My obsession with it only growing.

I slept 4hrs then rose eagerly to tackle the mystery surrounding the unknown gift. I go to the mantle where I placed it as decoration. It still sat felicitously well amongst the other decorations. I have small Christmas trees and Christmas houses with street lamps. Together the items create a small Christmas village. The paper with its snowflakes adds a needed backdrop to the scene, as well as framing it tastefully on the mantle.

I remove it from its new designated spot and again begin inspecting it. I give it a little shake near my ear. I shouldn't be surprised, it makes the same rattle as it had before. In the daylight I still see no seam. No point of entry. I take a needle from an old hotel button mending kit. I try to poke it into the package. The needle snaps in half. There is no mark left on the present. I grab a bread knife surely the scalloped edge would leave visible marks if I tried to saw into it. I begin. Sounds of scraping and even a couple sparks as I feverishly saw the present. After a minute or so I stop to admire my progress. I was cutting into one end, thinking I could hide the open end towards the wall on the mantle, and still use it as part of the décor. To my chagrin, there was no progress. Once again, not a single visible mark existed on the present. The knife was not so lucky. It was completely dull. The serrated end completely gone. Now I was completely mystified by the strange material it must be made of.

I google materials, but find nothing like it. It feels like paper, but has strength stronger than most hard metals. It must be worth a fortune whatever it is. It must be rare. So many questions surround this gift, but none were going to be answered right now. I put it back on the mantle and atempt to forget about it for a few hours.

I did manage to forget about it for hours as I prepped for the Christmas party. I found reasonably priced champagne flutes with Christmas wreaths on the front and silver cursive that read Merry Christmas. There would be three cocktails to choose from outside of the champagne at the drink station. There would be cider, tea, or hot coco, soda, water and coffee for those non-alcoholic sippers. There would be a plethora of simple finger foods for people to make small plates. Dinner would be buffet style: pastas, beef/chicken/vegan option, salad, fruit, and other sides such as potatoes or roasted veggies.

People began funneling in around 8pm. The decorations were classic. Garland draped the door ways, stairs banister and mantle. White lights twinkled throughout the house mixed into the garland and Christmas tree. White fairy lights were added to the center pieces on the tables for dining, as well as in the living room. I had the fireplace going inside and a fire pit lit outside. It was cozy with out being ostentatious. I was proud of myself. It really was a cozy Christmas lodge feeling.

As guests were coming in I noticed my close friend, Corva, amongst them. I went to her, pulling her aside to reveal the present I received the night before. I mentioned it earlier today on the phone when we spoke. She did not believe me. She kept thinking it was a Christmas spoof or trick.

"where is it?", Corva asked.

"There, amongst the mantle décor", I point.

"Well, I'll need to get closer to it if I am to believe you. I have to investigate this myself", she says skeptically.

Although I don't want to ruin the aesthetic I take it from the mantle anyways. Lost in a dwam, my mind swims through all the possibilities of what may be confined inside the 6 sides of the gift. Corva, noticing my trance rips the gift from my hands and begins inspecting it as I had. She also brings the gift to the side of her head and gives it a shake. She hears, as I had, there is a contents inside. She scrupulously unsuccessfully looks for a seam, as I had.

" You say there was no card? No tag?", Corva probes.

"Nope", I answer.

Corva seems uncertain of it. I wait to see if her curiosity outweighs her uncertainty, as it had for me. A long minute passes.

"Do you have something I could try to open it with?", she asks with a smile riddled with disbelief.

"Yes", I reply pulling her into the garage. I watch as Corva lays out her instruments of choice like a surgeon. The next ten minutes I watch as each instrument is attempted and failed at performing the task asked of it. Corva sits on the ground staring at the present completely bewildered.

"I've never, seen anything like this. It must have something important inside", she speculates.

Before I can tell her no, she rushes back to the party. She approaches a carpenter and an engineer we are mutual friends with. As she tells them, I watch as the disbelief crosses into their expressions. She pulls them towards the garage, where I am standing in the door way. The two men go through the same process as Corva and I. Both men pulling from their knowledge of materials to best hypothesize what tool would open it. However, after multiple guesses and even an attempt with my table saw, both men bowed to defeat. Both bewildered and extremely puzzled by the present that 'feels like paper, but is stronger than steel'.

The two men go back to the party. Like a game of telephone, word spread fast around the party about a gift from an alien. Soon everyone needed to see the gift for themselves. It was brought in from the garage and passed from person to person. Everyone speculated what was inside. I hear suggestion ranging from an ornament, dog leash, jewelry, game, car keys, to the more absurd of a sex contraption (you know how adults are!).

People wanted to burn it, freeze it, and smash it since poking and cutting had been unsuccessful. The present became the focus of the party. It was a hit with all the guest. People were wagering bets on who would be the one to open it. I was fine with all of it as long as we did it safely and didn't burn my house down. After all we were all quite merry after sampling the cocktails.

I took the gift back to the garage. I open the garage. I draw a line with chalk and require those viewing to stand behind it. Then the man who volunteered, who I actually can't identify and must be a plus one of someone I know, takes the blow torch and sets to work on burning the present. To our surprise a very unremarkable remarkable thing happens. The gift does not burst into flames nor does it glow red. Instead it sits under the flame unchanged. An ice cube is placed on it to judge if it has heated. The ice does not immediately melt. In fact, the present is room temp at touch. The garage and viewing party are all silent. A radio in the corner of the garage turns on and starts playing a Christmas station, the song is silent night. As each of us look from one person to another, searching for someone willing to break the silence, eventually it happens. The engineer says, "Well, I'm a believer. This is alien technology or some sort of Christmas conundrum miracle". Then I hear everyone else saying, "I'm a believer"

"me too, I'm a believer"

"I believe too"

Everyone was in agreement, the gift was made of some super natural material. It was unique. The man who attempted to blow torch it, grabs it, takes it back into the living room with the entire mob in tow. Once in the living room, he places it on the mantle amongst the other decorations, where I had placed it previously.

"Ode to the Christmas gods, Cheers we raise a glass", he says while saluting with his champagne.

Everyone in agreement with the fun and superstition of it, copies. The party says in unison,

"Ode to the Christmas gods, Cheers". Then the party resumes.

At the party's closing each guest touches the gift before bidding me farewell and leaving. It has become a token providing good luck. The engineer and the man in construction suggest I call the FBI or turn the gift over to a science lab or a school, to further study it. Other suggest calling the police or selling it at a rare art auction. I thank all of them for each suggestion.

Once alone, I once again pull the present from the mantle. I apologize to it for putting it through so much, as if it has feelings. It has become an embodiment of something much greater. I leave the party clean up for tomorrow. I simply turn off all the lights and check that the house is secured. Then I go to bed, taking the gift with me. I place it in the bed next to me, giving it a pillow to rest against. Tomorrow, I would find it a new home, a place to be studied or analyzed. All I would ask is that if it is x-rayed or opened revealing its contents, to please let me know what is found.

With that, I drift to sleep. When I wake the next morning, the gift is gone. I check under the bed, around the bed, and even strip the bed. It is no where to be found. Lost, I look to the window. I see a white paper flapping in the wind. It turns out to be an envelope wedged between my window and the windowsill. I cautiously open the envelop and pull out a note. Inside the note is cash. There is $200. The note reads,

"Thank you for watching over my gift".

There is no name and no further explanation. To retrieve the envelope I had to unlock the window. Baffled doesn't even begin to explain any of it. I sit on the bed allowing myself to fall back on to it.

"A Christmas Conundrum Miracle!"

It was a gift and a party I would always remember.