Gift Giving by Dan Bieger

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SUMMARY: Entry in the December flash fiction contest

Senor Viejo poured the two drinks from his pot, the hot buttered rum filling the air with its aroma as well as the steam that rose from the cups. Stephen lifted the cup, taking time to enjoy the rich aroma before letting the sweetness and the heat argue for supremacy, his taste buds eventually calling it a draw. Senor Viejo duplicated the maneuver standing on the other side of the bar. With just the two of them in the bar, the old man evidently felt no need to abstain. Over the rim of his cup, Senor Viejo asked Stephen:
"What brings you in this evening?"
"You mean because it's Christmas Eve? When there's no one around to share gifts with, I suppose you go looking for someone."
"You're here to share gifts? You brought me something?
Ruefully, Stephen laughed: "Just my sterling personality. That's all I have to share."
Senor Viejo did not laugh. He accepted the statement at face value, asked the logcal next question: "No family, then?"
Senor Viejo took a sip from his cup. "Family, yes. Children scattered around the globe doing the things that matter to them. They sent cards; they'll probably call tomorrow but the being together, that went by the wayside when Marian died. I guess she was the attractor that brought us all together."
Senor Viejo nodded comprehension but didn't comment. Filling the now uncomfortable silence, Stephen said: "We exchanged gifts, though. They sent me gift cards to book stores; I sent them gift cards to electronics stores. I like books; they like gizmos. That's about as personal as it gets, right?"
"Sounds like you disapprove?"
"Disapprove? I don't know. I don't seem to make any effort to change my behavior. Do I disapprove of my own actions?"
The old man did not comment, took the opportunity to re-fill their cups from the still steaming pot.
"How did it get like this?" Stephen's question might have been rhetorical but Senor Viejo treated it as a legitimate quest for information. "Get like what?"
Now it was Stephen's turn to not answer quickly. When he did answer, it was as if he'd lost track of the conversation. "On the news today, three deaths. That's not news. The news is that two were in a toy store and one was a trampling by a mob. The mob wanted to be first to buy items on sale, this being Black Friday. How did we get to this?
"Think about that Black Friday; goes right along with Ash Wednesday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Christmas Eve. All in the name of love. The love of the books going from red to black. Profit, for Goddess' sake."
"I'm not completely following you," the old man said.
"Christmas Eve. It's Christmas Eve. Celebrate the birth of the man who advocated the Golden Rule by trampling one another in a shopping frenzy. Makes no sense."
"Ah, but buying the perfect gift, the in-thing for this year; that's what that is all about; is it not?"
"I suppose. But...is it only in my memory that gifts were once exchanged that people took time to make for each other? Maybe then, the exchange of gifts means something. Maybe if you put some effort into it; it means something.