This is a peice i'm THINKING about working on.. Help? | Teen Ink

This is a peice i'm THINKING about working on.. Help?

March 14, 2010
By BreeTayler PLATINUM, Carlisle, Arkansas
BreeTayler PLATINUM, Carlisle, Arkansas
30 articles 0 photos 57 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Where there is love there is life." --Ghandi

I’ve tried to convince dad to give up the shop, but he won’t give in; not even the slightest bit. I can’t say that I don’t blame him. It’s the place where he and my mom first met. It has a sense of magic in the air now. It’s a Wednesday and that means dad and I both work in the shop. It’s his form of spending valuable time together. I work on homework in the back while he sits at the front desk, examining old diamonds and crystals that have never sold over the years. I dreaded Wednesdays for this very reason. Dad isn’t really a “people person”. He only speaks when he feels like he has to. Most of the time our conversations are one-way. The only person he really opened up to had died when I was born. I find myself wondering if he blames me for my mothers death; it would be a reasonable explanation for the little interaction with his own daughter. But, I often push the idea out of my mind, feeling horrible for even thinking it.

I was just finishing up the sheet Mrs. Darcy handed out to us in Pre-Cal when the bell sounded at the front door. “A customer?” I said quietly enough that only I could hear. I quickly shut my notebook and stashed it away in my bag. I was just about to stand beside my father who was now attending to our first customer in ages, until I saw what he looked like. I hid at the doorway that leads to the back room. I peaked over the frame and stared in both horror and amazement at what I saw. The man had on a peculiar outfit. A black trench coat clung to his chest and arms in a shiny material I could not name. His pants were also black and his shoes looked to be combat boots with a five inch heel underneath. He had black hair that traveled down to his shoulders with streaks of grey and white. Plastered on his face was the scowl of determination and on his cheek was an unusual scar. It stretched from the his right eye to the corner of his lips in a half moon. Though he looked to be in his late thirties I considered him the most beautiful being ever to walk within a few feet from me. And though the thought of being attracted to someone such as this man scared me and somewhat sickened me; I couldn’t control the overwhelming feelings this one particular man paraded on me… I never felt anything like it before.

“This-” Dad took in a quick breath, “This is amazing.” I couldn’t see what he was examining from where I stood but whatever it was, it was like nothing he had ever seen before. The man standing infront of him only whispered the words, “It belongs to my wife.” Both sadness and embarrassment fleeted through me, leaving crimson circles on my cheeks. Of course he was married. Dad shook his head in astonishment as he studied the prize, “Are you sure she doesn’t mind you selling it?”
The man turned irritated, “I was told to take it here.”
“Yes sir… I’ll give you-”
“I don’t want the money.” He sighed like he hadn’t had a good nights rest in a long while. He began to rub his temples and close his eyes. “I was told to bring it here.”
Dad looked up, above his glasses and said, “Sir, I don’t know what you’re saying.”
The man took a deep breath. “Take it. I don’t want anything in return.”
“I could alternate the price-”
“No… My wife is dead. Her last wish was for me take the necklace here. She never said to sell it. She only wants it to end up in the right hands.”
Dad was silent for a while, probably trying to register his words like I was. Finally dad nodded and with that the man spun quickly on his heels and headed out the door. I wanted so badly to run after him but fought off the urge by taking a couple of deep breaths to clear my thoughts.

Dad sat quietly behind the counter, mesmerized with the object now cupped in his hands. I stepped back a few steps from the door sill and recollected my composition. I took another long, deep breath and walked noisily from the back to the counter. “I heard someone.” I said nonchalantly. “Was there a customer?” I was standing beside my dad now and it took a minute or two for him to even look up to acknowledge me. His face was bright with excitement but his eyes were glazed over, like he was under a hypnosis. I waited for a response but one never came. “Dad?” I asked as he just stared at me with an odd expression that gave me a serious case of the willies. He jumped the slightest bit in his chair and began to blink, like he was just waking up from a nap. He smiled up at me and said, “Brooke, we had a customer.” I stood still in fear as he continued. “He gave us this.” He dangled a golden necklace in between his fingers. “Gave it to us. With absolutely no charge.” Dad’s words were lost somewhere behind my racing heart beat thumping noisily in my ear. The sight was beautiful. No, miraculous. Hanging from the golden chain was a small heart aligned with diamonds. Real gold and real diamonds. A jewelers daughter had learned to catch specific details like that at first glance. But, there was more to it than a chain with a heart. There was a sense of magic that covered it, that glistened off of it with every beam of light that touched it. I wanted to take it, to snatch it away. Something odd and peculiar called me through this piece of jewelry and I needed to obey it immediately.

“Can you believe it?” Dad laughed, speaking mostly to himself. His words pulled me out of my reverie and I had a small memory loss of what had happened a few seconds ago. I knew something weird and unexplainable had happened but I forgot the minor details of how it was weird. I felt faint. “No.” I rubbed my eyes. “ No, I can’t. I think I’m going to go home now.” Dad didn’t say a word which didn’t shock me. His excitement has died down the tiniest bit to where he didn’t want to share it with me. I walked slowly to the back and gathered my things. I went back to the front and snatched my keys at the counter. Before swinging the front door open and becoming embraced by the winters chill I threw on my coat and looked over my shoulder to my dad who still sat in the same position lifelessly. I studied the prize in his hands with worry and said, “Please don’t stay late.” And then I left without seeing if my father even looked up to wish me off… I didn’t have to.

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