The Golden Gift
by Ryan M. Usher

It was a week before Christmas. Danny stepped off of the school bus, last as always. He was a small kid, and he knew his place in life, which meant letting the bigger kids off first. No need for a hassle. He didn't resent them for it. Someday, he would be one of the bigger kids, and the squirts of that day would defer to him. That was the way it worked.

The sun shone brightly in the sky, but it was all a farce, because there was no warmth coming from it, and there were clouds rolling in from the southwest, huge cold pillows of flat gray. Snow was coming, sure as shooting. The same wind that brought them closer whooshed around Danny as he walked down the street towards his house. It was a nasty wind, the kind that blasts through the bony, denuded trees and slices at your face like so many blades. He covered his face with his forearm, but his eyes oozed tears anyway, and his nose began to drip.

It was probably going to be another hard Christmas, although that was always just a matter of degree for Danny and his mother. It was six years ago, right before Christmas, that Danny's father met a quick and unfortunate end on Highway 80. Paul Bendam was a safe driver, never drank, never sped, but it didn't matter. The tires of his Dodge Ram met with a slick patch of black ice as he drove home laden with Christmas gifts, sending Paul flying across the street and into the path of a MacLane semi. Danny couldn't even see his father one last time, for the body was so badly damaged that the casket had to be left shut during the viewing. Christmas sucked terribly that year, and it had never really been fun since.

His mother though, God bless her, was a strong lady and she tried her best. This year, she even had a boyfriend, and though that wasn't totally unusual, she had never managed to have one this time of year. His name was Stephen, and he seemed nice enough. Maybe this year Danny could at least pretend he had a full family at Christmas. Maybe that would make this one nice for a change.

He continued down the street, totally lost in his thoughts. In retrospect, it was probably the most freakish of occurrences. He just happened to be looking the wrong way, maybe a twitch in his nose that made his attention wander where it normally wouldn't go, who knows? Whatever it was, it was this distracted attention that caused the feeble sunlight to flash for just a spilt second off of something very bright and attractive. He walked over to it. Whatever it was, it was quite shiny, and it was lying right on the side of the road.

He picked up the object and examined it. He wasn't an expert on such things by half, but Danny was convinced that he held a solid gold coin in his hand. It looked very old, maybe hundreds of years in age. It was cut in a circle, not smooth as the change in his pocket, but rough and uneven. There was some phrase etched upon it, and a relief of some person on the side, but he neither recognized the person nor could he read the writing. Yet, Danny thought he had an idea of what it was. He closed his eyes for a second, and for that long second, he was no longer on Saturday Street, he was on a Spanish frigate, tossing on the roiling waves of the mighty Atlantic. It was a giant, three-masted bird of prey with dozens of cannon and canvas sails blooming in the vibrant tradewinds that propelled her forward. He smelled the salt of the sea and the musk of the ship's crew, saw the glare of the evening sun on the water and the wood darked by that same water. It was terribly exciting. When he opened his eyes, he felt almost disappointed, but while the fantasy fled, the coin was still there in his mittened hand.

He hurried home, excited to tell his mother about what he found, but as he knocked on the front door, he had an idea. When his mother answered the door, she relieved Danny of his coat and mittens and set his backpack on one of the old kitchen chairs, then led him over to the table, where waiting for him was a large, steaming mug of hot cocoa, complete with real marshmallows. After the nasty winds and cold outside, it was the best, sweetest thing he ever put in his mouth. His mother told him of some things, about Christmas, about Stephen joining them for dinner, and if he was going to watch the Giants game on Sunday. Danny was feeling good, but he didn't mention the coin to his mother that day.

In fact, after that night, he didn't even think about it until he placed it in a box and wrapped it carefully with some paper he had pilfered from his mom. That weekend, they had gone to the department store, where Mom and Stephen had done a little shopping. While they looked around, Danny stole over to the jewelry counter, where a nice young lady named Kristen worked. They admired the gold coin together, and Kristen agreed to clean and shine it for free. When Danny got the coin back, it looked absolutely brilliant, as if some Spanish coinsmith had minted it last week instead of perhaps five hundred years ago.

On Christmas morning, he handed the wrapped box to his mother. Mom was quite surprised, she had not expected her son to buy her anything, so short of money as he was. When she looked at the coin, she couldn't help herself, she started crying, and hugged her son tight, both because of the gesture, and because at that moment, he looked more like his father to her than he ever had before. She could not remember a more meaningful gift that was ever given to her, and in that moment, she loved her son so much she felt she would burst. It was the first happy Christmas in the Bendam household in six years.

Months later, Helen Bendam found herself looking at the coin, and for just a brief second, she wondered what it was worth, monetarily. Only for a second, though. It was worth more than any amount of money to her, and she knew it. She did struggle financially at times, yes, but she preferred a little privation if it meant she could have such a wonderful kid. She set the coin back into her old jewelry box and lay down on her bed. As her eyes closed in sleep, she felt for a moment that she was on the deck of a ship, a ship sailing into the blazing blue. Salty mist sprayed her face and golden sunlight warmed it right off. What a strange fancy, she thought as sleep claimed her...