The Suspicious Gifts

It was a windy autumn day, the leaves were falling off of the trees’ feeble fingers. A recent teenager named Finn was sitting on the back porch with his twin sister Quinn. The two of them were silently lamenting even with the crisp autumn breeze drying their tears occasionally.

Finn got up and tucked his hands in his pockets as he went to the front yard. He approached a sign and kicked it hard then looked over his shoulder seeing a delivery man, who was wearing a pin that looked like a pair of angel wings and he had a familiar face. He was carrying a box wrapped neatly with brown paper. Finn was handed the box and the man tipped his cap, then left without saying a word.

Upon his fair complexion was a perplexed expression. He analyzed the box with one of his black eyebrow slowly rising up in puzzlement. The box had no return address, just some chicken scratch that is supposedly addressed to him and his twin sister.

Quinn joined her brother’s side and tucked a piece of her brown hair behind her light tan ear. “What’s that?” She asked him. “A suspicious piece of junk wrapped in brown paper, that’s what it is.” Finn replied with a sneer before dumping the mysterious package into the trash.

As he walked away, Quinn fished it out and looked at it herself. Unlike her brother, she saw chicken scratch for a return address, but not the receiving address. “Finn, wait!” Quinn called out as she went after him, “Why’d you throw this away? If it’s not ours, we should return it to the people who sent it to us.”

Finn looked at her with his sneer not leaving his face. “Very funny, Quinn,” he scoffed, “there is no return address. It’s weird enough that we got this delivery on a Sunday.” He then went inside their old home to mope in silence. Quinn stayed outside with the wind blowing through her brown hair.

She then looked back down at the box furrowed her eyebrows in puzzlement. She then headed inside with the box and wrapped an arm around her twin’s arm much to his puzzlement. “What’re you—my God, there is a return address.” He stated after escaping the clutches of his own melancholy and puzzlement shackles.

“There is a receiving address.” Quinn mumbled in awe. The twins then looked at each other and began to tear through the brown paper guarding the box together. They then stopped upon hearing heavy footsteps that made the front porch creak. They exchanged looks with each other. “Hide!” They told each other.

The twins quickly hid and dropped a pile of shredded brown paper near the front door. Quinn was about to go back to clean up the mess they made, but Finn stopped her. A tall man in his early forties came in where he noticed the brown paper pieces on the wooden floor.

“What a mess, those rotten kids must’ve attempted to trash their home so I would reconsider.” The man grumbled. Finn beared his teeth like an angry wolf. “Why does such a scumbag have to take our home?” He whispered bitterly. Quinn elbowed her twin slightly to shut him up as the man walked by their hiding spot.

Pretty soon, the twins left without the man even noticing, they carried the box they received away and made their way to the abandoned butterfly garden where they enjoyed hanging out when they were much younger. It was a few blocks away from their old one story home.

They went back to removing the brown paper and finally revealed a box snared by strong packaging tape. They looked at their fingernails and set the box down briefly to search for a sharp rock then used it to cut through the tape.

They then separated the flaps and saw an envelope above the packaging peanuts. Instinctively, Quinn picked up the envelope while Finn dug through the pink styrofoam peanuts. “It’s from Dad.” Quinn remarked as she saw the handwriting and recognized it instantly.

“Why’d he give us an arrow and a laminated lotus flower?” Finn asked; coming off as ungrateful. Quinn bonked Finn on the head with the now empty envelope and skimmed through the letter from their father and wiped away some shedding tears from her green eyes.

They looked up to see a moving van drive by heading toward their old home and then it pulled into the driveway. Then a van pulled into the abandoned butterfly garden with visible suitcases in the backseat. In the driver’s seat was their mom. She waved at her kids as they came to board the shiny van.

“You went through the car wash and got a new air freshener.” Finn commented on the pine aroma upon entering passenger’s side and taking a seat before buckling up. Quinn was the last one to enter the van in the available seat in the back and buckled up next. Their mom then drove away from the butterfly garden and Finn turned to face his sister puzzled.

“Say, sis, you said that letter was from dad,” he stated, “what makes you say that? The guy’s been dead for 3 years now.” Quinn sniffled before replying to her brother’s question. “It’s his handwriting, I know it when I see it.” She handed over the envelope and the letter to Finn. Finn noticed the scratches from their late father forming certain letters and got misty eyed himself.

“This is dad’s handwriting…” he whispered tearfully before regaining some of his composure. He then began to read the letter aloud as their mom focused on her driving. The letter read:

“My Dearest Children,

You were a suspicious gift. Your mother, before you two were born, acted coy when I asked if we were having a boy. She fiddled with her pearl when I asked if we were having a girl. I’m poetically rambling again aren’t I? Well, I thought I’d tell you in paper that I love you guys very much and hope you will accept these gifts to tell you new beginnings are in your future. Take care of each other and your mother until we meet again.

Your Heavenly Father and Husband,

Finn Gardner Sr.”