A Letter to the Giftmaker - Chapter 1

The glossy parchment laid out on the battered table was priceless. A tarnished brass nib of a fountain pen frantically skittered across the surface, leaving behind dark swirls and blots of ink. The staccato scritch scritch of the pen echoed in the dark apartment.

Edwin Jameson bent over the table, the only flat surface in his tiny, bare living space, and scribbled frenetically. He needed to get this written and to the post box in less than a quarter of an hour. This was his chance to get what he deserved from the Giftmaker. He wasn't a child anymore and this wasn't a child's wish-list. He needed money, employment, prestige.

He finished the final sentence, signed his name, and folded the letter up. He had no wax, and no excess coal with which to heat the wax anyway, so he tied a simple red ribbon around the letter.

The chair scraped against the weathered floorboards as he stood quickly. He flung his threadbare coat on and hurried out of the apartment. The distant shouts and cries and laughter of the other tenants echoed like ghosts as he hurried through the cramped, dimly lit hall and down the claustrophobic stairs.

He burst out of the front door of the tenement building and into the loud and bustling chaos of the streets. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, so workers and shoppers alike crammed the sidewalk. The sky was a suffocating dark gray blanket of clouds, stained darker by the smoke belching from thousands of chimneys. The wind whipped through the crowd and sought out the small rips in his coat.

Edwin lowered his head and pressed through the crowd. Time was short. He needed to get to the postbox at the end of Irby Lane. The voices of strangers filled the air around him, but he ignored them. He focused on the street corner.

There was glint out of the corner of his eye. A gold crown, a week's wages, fell from the purse of a well-dressed gentleman and rolled through the grayish slush. Before the gentleman could even notice that he'd dropped something, Edwin bent over and snatched it up. In a moment the coin was safely buried in Edwin's right pocket, the one without a hole.

Edwin continued on, not looking back or even listening for a cry. The gentleman was clearly rich if he had so many gold coins they fell from his pockets. He would not miss that one. But to Edwin, the coin could mean everything. He squeezed the letter in his hand. At least until this letter was delivered.

He turned the corner onto Irby Lane. Two blocks down, the bright red column of the postbox towered over the sea of shivering faces. He pressed onward, darting between the bickering families and laughing groups of friends.

As he passed a stroller, his hip bumped a stuffed animal. The shabby brown bear, fur matted and frayed, tumbled into a snow bank. The child, distracted by the colorful displays, did not notice the loss of their beloved toy.

Edwin tried to ignore it and keep going. The missing toy would be noticed by the parent. The kid wouldn't lose it. He had to hurry, he couldn't stop.

He spun on his heels. He grabbed the bear and wiped the snow off of its back and onto his coat, leaving a dark stain of wetness on the thin fabric. He carefully set the bear in the stroller basket, wedging it into place.

Satisfied the toy was safe again, he spun once more and hurried through the crowd. Ahead, a red carriage pulled up to the postbox. His heartbeat quickened. He moved faster, shoving his way past the last clump of people.

A young woman in a letter carrier's navy blue coat and wide-brimmed hat turned to him. "Letter?" She held out her hand, lip pursed.

He couldn't trust someone else with something so precious as his letter. He stepped sideways to go around the carriage, but the letter carrier mirrored his motion.

"I can do it myself," Edwin said, holding the letter to his chest.

"I'm an apprentice letter carrier." The young woman's brown eyes darted to the far side of the carriage, where a man was unloading the post box. "You can trust me."

"I would rather do this myself." Edwin darted past her, reaching the postbox. The door was open, though, and the other postal worker was loading the bag into the carriage.

"Wait!" The woman grabbed at the letter. Her fingers, red from the cold, grasped the other end of the parchment.

"Hey! Careful!" Edwin shouted.

The other mail carrier stopped and glanced out of the carriage. "Something wrong?"

The parchment slipped through Edwin's fingers and the woman stumbled back behind the postbox. He grasped at thin air, scowled at the man, and then followed the woman.

"Give it back!" He grabbed at the letter. "That's very expensive!"

"Let me do this." She held it above her head but, being shorter than him, it was still just within his grasp. "I'm a letter carrier. You can trust me."

"Give it!" Edwin grabbed the letter, yanking on it.

They each held an end as they pulled. The impromptu game of tug-of-war only lasted a few seconds. The glossy parchment was hard to grip, and when a bitter blast of wind snaked down the street, it grabbed the letter and ripped it from their grasp.

The two of them stood there for a second, frozen and speechless, as the letter tumbled through the air. It danced and spun over the crowd like an acrobat at the circus. After several somersaults, another gust caught it and pressed it against a railing.

Edwin shoved the woman aside and raced down the street. His breath was shallow. He kept his eyes locked on the letter. He couldn't lose it. Not now. Slush splashed up onto his trousers and strangers shouted as he barreled past, but he ignored it all, focused only on the letter.

He reached the fence and grabbed the letter. The smooth parchment against his fingertips was like a reassuring hug after a nightmare. He clutched it to his chest.

"You got it!" The young woman stumbled through the crowd, nearly to him. But his eyes locked instead on the postal carriage.

Half a block back, the older letter carrier shut the faded red door to the carriage. He jumped onto the running board and gave a shout to the driver. The carriage jerked and then clattered away down the street.