1F – The Christmas Present

Frankly, he couldn’t imagine anything worse. In fact, as far as he could tell, there couldn’t be too many people left on the planet for whom this grim ritual was still a genuinely happy experience. Every year, the tinsel was a little more gaudy, the toys a fraction more inappropriate, the lights a touch more epileptic… Surely somewhere there was statistical data showing a sharp increase in vomit-related incidents in the toilets at this time of year.

It’s the kind of place he’d normally steer clear of anyway. But the mall still held within its cavernous halls a tiny, shining promise – to solve all of his Christmas problems under the one roof. So he would stand there, holding a gift aloft for what seemed like an eternity, desperately trying to visualise them using it, wearing it, the purple one or the blue one, or the toilet roll holder shaped like a small dog, only to eventually decide that it was all totally wrong and that he should just give up and start again.

Thankfully he was getting close to the end of his list. There had been some random salt and pepper shakers that had taken care of his brother and his wife with the great honking laugh. A photoframe had taken care of his younger sister and whichever random stranger she was currently sleeping with, whatever his name was. He felt a brief moment of panic as he wondered whether he’d give those exact gifts to the same people last year, but in reverse order. But no, that was three years ago. Well within acceptable limits.

And that left his niece.

And nowhere within the not inconsiderable depths of his experience was anything that told him how to buy Christmas presents for a fourteen year old girl. Maybe a gift voucher?

God damn if his head didn’t just crack open. He tried desperately to focus back on the task at hand. These killer migraines seemed to increase the closer Christmas came. Probably caused by those damn beeping xray machines that fronted every shop, no doubt nurturing little tumours in his insides every time he walked through. He shook his head and tried to focus.

His niece. He remembered the time he got that one wrong. The advanced circuitry kit he’d bought her for her eleventh birthday. She was a smart kid, at least according to her mother. But apparently eleven-year-old girls aren’t too fond of science kits. They want something pinker.

Just thinking about it made his head hurt more.

He made his way into a store. That’s the trick in this situation – keep moving. What about some clothes? They go through a lot of clothes at that…

The fissure in his head erupted, and he had to stop for a minute, sweating. As he waited for the pain to subside, a thought popped into his head. No, how could he pick out some clothes? He’d get the brand wrong for a start, let alone the size. As soon as this rather obvious fact occurred to him, the pain began to subside. His thoughts became clearer.

He stood up and stretched, tilting his head experimentally to see if there was any residual pain. He felt completely normal. Whatever that was, it had gone just as quickly as it came. He started to walk to the next store. But what to get, what to get… What about those new dolls he’d seen on TV, they seemed like they would…

It was back. Bigger and better than before, the migraine walloped into his forebrain. He stopped and sat down, waiting for the pain to subside. Again, he used the time to consider the gift. Fourteen was surely too old to be thinking about dolls as possible Christmas presents, no matter how popular they allegedly were. Eleven, twelve, maybe, but fourteen?

The headache subsided again.

He stood up, and walked slowly down the mall. So what else was there? He found himself at the jewellery store, and stepped inside like he was half expecting to be revealed as a timewaster and ejected from the store. He glanced to get his bearings, averting his eyes from the very expensive things. And then he saw them. A small pair of silver earrings, each set with a tiny diamond. Maybe his niece would like that? They were quite beautiful. He gave the tag what he hoped looked like a nonchalant flip and glanced quickly at the price. Almost ten times what he’d been prepared to spend. He snorted and turned away. And that’s when it hit.

The previous headaches were suddenly relegated to the status of minor twitches as his head exploded in a tiny ball of pain. He sank down to the carpet, sweating profusely, his eyes watering. The store clerk rushed over.

“Sir, are you alright?”

He was about to black out, he could feel it. His eyes started to slowly roll back into his head. And one last tiny thought popped into his brain.

And instantly the migrane was gone. He looked up, slightly embarrassed, at the store clerk, who helped him to his feet. He indicated to the earrings.

“I’d like to take these, please”.

Several miles away, the object of all of this attention sat quietly in her bedroom. His niece carefully replaced the lid on her advanced circuitry kit and slid it back into the hiding place under her bed. Contented, she settled into her doona and began the long slow wait for Christmas day.