The Gift

Dedicated to Don.

Chapter One
I knew someone was coming around the corner.

I walked down the sidewalk with my head lowered to stare at my feet as if they held the secret to life while I wallowed in self pity. The next day was my sixteenth birthday, and unlike most of my peers, I harbored no feelings of anticipation. For all of them, the celebrated mark on the calendar mean more liberty and freedom, a real step towards adulthood. For me, the dreaded date was a death sentence as if Madame Guillotine hung over my head ready to fall at the stroke of midnight. The age where most considered life to begin, I thought of it as an end to a life filled with carefree days and magic nights.

It was only this week when my father sat across from me at the table and told me I needed to grow up and get serious. "You have to think about the future," he said, and quoted, "'When I was a child, I thought as a child and spake as a child, but when I grew older, I put away childish things'." He told me at breakfast he wanted me to go through my room and clean out all the 'unnecessary waste'. I did go to my room, only to pull on my Legend of Zelda jacket and slip out the window, walking about for some time lost in woe as if my beloved pet had passed on that morning.

Despite my misery of the changes that the next day would bring, I had not drifted so deep into my depression I was completely unaware of my surroundings although I had paid no heed to them in my wandering. I sensed them, much like when you know you're trouble before your parents even know what you did. I easily could have halted and changed course, avoiding fate altogether. But destiny has a funny way of gripping you about the neck and thrusting you forward.

The collision was grand, not a simple bump or brush into one another. A full on bulldozer affect overcame both of us, with foreheads smacking and limbs entangling together as we crashed to the cold concrete.

I barely had time to register what had happened before a pair of hands grasped my shirt collar, and a pair of dark brown, almost black, desperate eyes stared straight at me. Tiny drops of sweat cling to her short and thin golden brown hair, her breaths hard and rapid as they flooded my cheeks.

"Help me!"

Dazed for a moment by the intensity of her face, I didn't respond. She looked over her shoulder, and a strained cry came from her throat. My body went into auto as my brain stalled, grabbing her wrist covered by an athletic band and hauling both of us up and over the short white fence separating the sidewalk from the lawn.

I could smell the grass; cut only a day or two before, not overpowered by her hair which tickled my nose. All I could think while my heart thudded away against my chest was that she smelled of clean earth, as she trembled against me with an equally rapid heart. I heard the heavy footsteps right next to my head, separated only by the painted wooden boards. I saw the faded blue sleeve of a coat and a man's hand over the fence, knowing without thinking it that if he looked down, we were both caught.

He only ran past without pausing.

We lay there in silence for a few moments, the sounds of the car on the nearby street the only thing besides our breaths. Mine now matched hers, which I found to be strange.

Slowly she sat up and peeked over the fence cautiously. Then the tension in her body broke as she heaved a sigh and sank to her knees, them spreading under her and her whole body sagging in a fashion of complete relief. I sat up and brushed the grass from my jacket, and she smiled at me with a modest, impish smile that wrinkled at the corner of her eyes and brought a dimple to one cheek.

"Thank you."

"...Sure..." I replied hesitantly, not sold on what to say.

She brushed off her blue and white baseball shirt that modestly fit her slender frame as I asked, "Who was that?"

She paused, before standing up and glancing down the street to where the man had gone. "I don't know," she admitted. "I was walking and he called to me from across the street. He started after me, so I ran."

I stood up also, surprised to find she stood only an inch or two shorter than me, and I already was short for my age. I swung my leg over the fence, and she followed suit. "So you didn't know him?"

"Nope." She paused, sitting on the fence for a moment looking down the street. "He looked mean, though," she added thoughtfully, and hopped down.

I chuckled at her childish statement, and she smiled. "Thank you," she repeated cheerfully, clasping her hands behind her back and leaning backwards a bit. "I'm Mickey."

"Mickey?" the word rolled off my tongue with a cross between a snort and a laugh. "As in 'Mouse'?"

She frowned, which came out with the slightest hint of a pout. "Don't be mean. It's Mickey 'cause it's hard to say Mizuki."

"Mizuki?" I tested, rolling the word about in my mouth. "Is that oriental?"

"I don't know."

"I'm Rick," I offered. "Really Richard."

"Richard?" Her smile became mischievous, accentuating her tiny nose and high cheekbones to look like a pixie. "But wouldn't it be shortened to Di-"

"That's why it's Rick!" I butted in.

She giggled, and intertwined her fingers in front of her chin. "I'm sorry," she weakly made out through her light laughs. They were interrupted by a shout.

"There you are!"

Both our heads snapped to the location of the voice, and she squeaked as the man in the dingy blue jacket ran towards us. I grasped her wrist with both my hands and yanked her along, running back to my house.

"Where-" she started, stumbling for a bit.

"Just c'mon!"

She fell in step with me, although her breathing was already ragged from her previous marathon dash. I turned on my street and she followed, and just before I slammed the door of my house shut I checked and barely saw the man coming around the corner.

She slumped along the wall, gasping for air and sweating again as I locked and bolted the door, then moved to check the windows.

"Did he see us?" she asked fearfully.

"No, I don't think so," I replied, barely peeking through the blinds. A few moments later the man ran past my house, confirming my suspicions. "No, he didn't."

"Good." She shakily got to her feet, and I became aware of how the flight had taxed her.

"Do you want a drink of water?" I offered, moving to the kitchen.

Mizuki followed after me, and asked, "Is this your house?"

"Yeah. I live here with my dad." I paused at a note attached to the fridge amid PSAT scores and dad's work schedule. A written scolding in dad's no-nonsense script for not being in my room, but luckily he seemed to have taken no notice of the fact I hadn't used the front door. I ripped the note off as I opened the fridge and found some water bottles. I handed one to her, which she gratefully pressed to her neck where her hair lightly brushed.

"Where is your father?" she looked about curiously.

"At work," I replied easily, sitting down at the counter while opening my bottle. "So Mizuki, you have no idea who that man was?"

"No."

I looked at her, concerned. "Maybe you should call the police. He could be dangerous. How far did he chase you?"

"I don't know," she admitted, joining me at the counter. "My heart felt like it was going to burst."

"And nobody saw him?" I demanded, again amazed at the lack of concern. Surely someone had noticed the large man chasing her.

"Not that I saw," she replied, then downed the bottle of water in one drink. I got her another, which she danced across the counter between her hands. "Then again, most people don't notice me."

"What do you mean?"

"You were the third person I asked for help," she explained, still playing with her water bottle. She seemed to like the feeling of the cold on her fingers. "And you were the only one who seemed to see me."

I wanted to point out that she had run straight into me, so there wasn't any real way to overlook her. Instead, I sighed. "Well, I guess you can stay here until dad gets home. He'll know what to do."

"Oh no." She stood up quickly, the bottle tumbling over. "I don't want to impose or anything."

"You're not imposing. I offered," I pointed out as I picked up the bottle and handed it back to her. "Besides, if that guy came back for you, he's probably going to still be looking for you."

"But..." Mizuki looked about nervously.

I realized we were completely alone in the house, and rapidly added, "Of course, you could call your parents and they can come pick you up."

She slowly shook her head, before suddenly stopping and tilting her head curiously. "Who's that on your jacket?"

"Huh?" I glanced down, to see Link on the Zelda logo. "Oh, it's Link. From a video game."

"Game? Can we play?"

I stood up, glad there was something to distract her from her obvious problem at hand. "Yeah, sure. The Game Cube is in the living room."

Mizuki quickly followed, still holding the water bottle. We were on the way to the living room where our large television sat, when the doorbell rang. I moved to the door and peered through the peephole. The man in the dingy blue jacket stood on the porch. His hair was black and his eyes had bags under them, hidden partially by the collar of his jacket.

"That guy's back," I whispered as I backed away from the door. Her face immediately went terrified.

"I thought you said he didn't see us!"

"I thought he didn't!" I grabbed her elbow and reached into my pocket for my cell phone at the same time. "C'mon, we better go call the police-"

The cracking of wood followed swiftly by the banging of the door cut me off, as the wooden frame splintered and the door swung open. We both yelled in surprise, as the man glowered at us. A stench wafted about him, one that spoke of mixed chemicals and waste.

"Get out of here!" I shouted, only causing him to smile.

I saw the flash of Mizuki's black wristband out of the corner of my eye, and the water bottle struck its mark. The water spilled out of the opened top, and the man shouted as if he would melt at the touch. We both turned and ran down the hall.

"The kitchen door!" I hissed to her, and she quickly swung into the room narrowly missing the counter. I heard something smash behind us as we bolted out the door and slammed it shut after we exited. Mizuki ran ahead of me, darting down the garden path along the house with wild glances behind her.

"Hurry Rick!" she cried, and there wasn't even a fleeting hesitation in my mind of not following her.