A Gift

“Hello!”

I ignored the bright little voice and kept writing.

Here I will record the aftermath of the Storms, the decade long calamity of ice and fire that devastated our world, a world that very nearly ended in those very catastrophes. It was only through—

“Hello?”

…the quick thinking and decisive action of a brave few that we—

“Hellooo?”

…that any of us were able to—

“Hellooo! I know you can hear me!”

I slammed my pencil on the table and looked up to confront the owner of the voice.

“I am working! Go away!”

“Hello! I knew you could hear me.”

The voice belonged to a disheveled little girl, about five or six years old, standing barefooted in my doorway. I’d placed my table-cum-desk in the room closest to the street because it got the most light. I didn’t have the money for candles or oil, no one did these days except for the Elites up in the city center, so my writing was limited to daylight hours. Which was precisely why this little urchin’s disruption was so unwelcome.

“I’m busy,” I said. “Find someone else to play with.” I returned my attention to my work.

“You’re not busy,” she said.

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just sitting there.”

“I’m writing.”

“What’s ‘writing’?”

“It’s when you—“ I huffed out a groan of impatience and turned back to her.

“Look, you, what’s your name?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Where are your parents?”

“Don’t have any.”

“Older siblings then.”

“Don’t have those either.”

I raised a hand to rub my forehead as I sighed. “I’m too old for this.”

The little girl grinned at me, eyes sparkling, then turned and ran out the door. She peeked back around the doorframe, her dark curls tumbling over her dirty face.

“What?” I asked.

The girl giggled.

“You’re funny,” she said. “Bye!”

She waved one skinny little arm at me making her whole body shake, then disappeared down the street.

~~~

The only positive thing to come from the Storms and the devastation that ensued was the opportunity to redress all of the inequalities our society had suffered under as we rebuilt from the rubble. Unfortunately, humanity proved once again that power corrupts. A new ruling class has risen, the Elites, and they keep a stranglehold on everything that could make our new existence bearable. While we starve in the streets, they feast on fresh fruits and meat. While we suffer in darkness, they throw parties and set off fireworks. While we—

A small hand sneaked up over the edge of my table, interrupting my train of thought. It deposited a small dark grey stone and withdrew.

I sighed and set down my pencil. “You again?”

“I brought a present,” she said.

“It’s a rock,” I said.

The girl’s head popped over the level of the table and her pale blue eyes smiled up at me.

“It’s a pretty rock,” she said.

I frowned at her, then down at the rock.

“Don’t frown at it!” She reached up and took it in her hand again. “See? It’s pretty.”

The girl turned the rock and the surface glimmered, just a little.

I blinked, surprised, and took the rock from her to look at it more closely.

The girl threw her hands in the air and crowed with delight, “It sparkles!”

Tiny metallic flecks caught the light as I tilted the small stone from side to side. “It’s probably just mica.” 

The girl whirled to face me.

“It’s stars,” she said with wide eyes.

“It’s not stars,” I said. “It’s mica, a type of mineral that—“

“It’s stars!” she declared, then spun and raced out of the room back onto the street, laughing all the way. 

~~~

I was a teenager when the Storms struck. They were the result of human stupidity, an arrogant belief that the Earth would never retaliate against our greed and the careless destruction we caused. Ten years of storms told us we were wrong. She didn’t need us. She didn’t want us. And she seemed determined to get rid of us.

It’s been another decade since the Storms lifted. I still wake in fear, screaming from nightmare recollections of those days, memories of the faces of those I loved twisted in terror and pain, frozen blue or burned black. We endured so much, survived so much, and for what? For this? This neo-feudalism with the poor poorer than ever and the privileged—

A small hand crept over the edge of my table and deposited a small ring made of wires twisted tightly together.

“Another present?” I asked, setting my pencil down.

The girl popped up so that I could see her nodding. The vigorous bobbing of her head set her curls bouncing.

“I’m afraid that ring is too small for my fingers.”

“It’s not for your fingers!” The girl laughed. “It’s a magic ring! For looking through!”

“For looking through?”

She nodded again. “If you look through it, you’ll see happy things.”

I cocked my head to one side and narrowed my eyes at her. “Happy things?”

“Happy things!” She threw her hands in the air and twirled. “Go on,” she said, facing me again, “try it!”

I took a deep breath, let it out, then picked up the ring and held it up to my eye.

“What do you see?” she asked, eagerly.

“I see you.”

Her face lit with a grin. “And I’m happy! You see? It works! It’s magic!”

I smiled a little and set the ring back down. The girl stopped and looked at me intently.

“What?” I asked.

She broke into another grin. “You have a nice smile,” she said.

I blinked in shock.

She giggled. “You’re funny. Bye!”

She spun on her heels and skipped out the door.

I shook my head and sighed. The smile crept back across my lips. I reached out and took the little circle of wire in my hand. I held it up and peered through, looking out the window to a clear blue sky.

~~~

One of the most difficult challenges we faced after the Storms lifted was disease. We’d hoped that if the skies ever cleared and we were able to return to the surface, things would go back to normal. It wasn’t to be. The Storms had ravaged our resources. Even when the few doctors we had left knew what was wrong, they had no way to help, no equipment, no medicines. Suddenly, herbalists became precious sources of knowledge. Pre-modern medicine was—

A small gurgling noise caught my attention. I looked up to find the girl standing in my doorway, sheepishly holding a hand to her stomach.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

She shook her head. Her stomach growled again and she covered it with both her arms.

“I have a little food here if you—“

“It’s okay,” she said. “I get food tomorrow.”

Concern furrowed my brows.

“You don’t get to eat until tomorrow?” I asked.

“Of course not,” she said. “Only the little ones eat every day, silly. I’m one of the big kids.” She put her fists on her hips and puffed out her chest with a grin.

“Doesn’t that make you upset?” I asked.

She gave me a look like I was dumbest person in the world.

“Why would I be upset?” she asked. “I get all the water I want today, and I get to eat tomorrow, and, anyway, I found a treasure!”

She walked over to my desk and thrust out a closed fist. “Here!”

I held out my hand and she dropped something into it.

“I don’t know what it is, though,” she said.

It was a small heart-shaped locket. The sight of it tugged at memories I had from before the Storms had changed everything.

I slipped my nail into the small groove that ran around the edge of the heart and the locket popped open. I heard the girl’s breath catch in her throat. She leaned forward trying to see what was inside.

“It’s a flower!” she exclaimed.

She was right. There in the locket was a perfectly preserved pressed flower, a forget-me-not that was still as blue as if it had just been picked.

The girl hopped in place like a little bird, her eyes wide and sparkling.

“It’s so pretty!” she said. Her gaze shifted up to meet mine. “What’s it for?”

“It’s…” I looked down at the flower, “it’s like a promise.”

“A promise?”

I nodded. “A promise to remember happy times.”

The girl clapped her hands together. “Good! You need that.”

“What?”

“Your face is always all frowny. Like this.”

I laughed at her squished up face and hunched shoulders. She smiled at me.

A bell clanged in the distance. She looked toward it, then back at me.

“Sorry,” she said. “I have to go. Bye!”

She waved and raced out the door into the street without a backward glance.

~~~

There are rumors of a rebellion rising to fight the injustices of the Elites. The leaders are teenagers born during the Storms, just barely old enough to have vague memories of those years of terror filled with Nature’s fury. They claim that fury as their birthright and call themselves Lightning Children, the children of the Storms. Just as the Storms wiped away our old way of life, they have vowed to…

I set my pencil down and looked toward my door. It had been a few days since the girl had given me the locket, and I hadn’t seen her since then. 

Her gifts sat on my desk in a little dish I’d found to hold them. A pebble. A twist of wire. A locket. Such small things, so insignificant in the face of the challenges we faced, and yet…

Seized by a sudden urge, I leaned forward and tore a few sheets of paper out of the back of my journal. I took one, trimmed it into a square, and started folding.

I’d been a child when the Storms struck. I wasn’t a doctor or an herbalist. I couldn’t make clothes or build shelter. I didn’t know how to grow food. While the Storms raged, all I’d felt was terror, anger, helplessness, and grief. I thought that would change if the Storms ever lifted, but it hadn’t. I only felt more helpless than ever as I watched what was left of our society descend into a new kind of horror.

But now…

Finished folding, I tucked the other sheets of paper into my pocket, pushed away from my desk, and walked outside. The brightness blinded me. I blinked it away.

“You’re outside!” a familiar voice squealed.

I turned toward the voice and saw the girl racing toward me waving her arms wildly. She stopped in front of me, bouncing up and down with excitement.

“You’re outside!” she repeated. “But I don’t have a present for you today!” 

“Today,” I said, kneeling to bring my face level with hers. “I’ve got a present for you instead.”

“For me?” Her eyes went wide.

I nodded and pulled out the paper I’d folded, flipping it around a few times to find the right side. I blew into it and it puffed up into a ball.

The girl shouted with surprise and delight. “It’s magic!”

“It’s yours.” I held it out to her. She took it gently with both hands.

“I can teach you how to make it, if you want,” I said.

Her eyes widened. “You made this?”

I smiled and nodded. “Want me to teach you?”

She held the paper ball close to her heart and nodded vigorously.

“Okay.” I stood and held out a hand to her. She took it immediately. “Do you know a quiet place where we can sit?”

She grinned. “I know where! This way!”

~~~

I thought the Storms had taken everything from us, then the Elites found a way to take more. But all is not yet lost.

Not yet.