The Tiffany Box- ONC 2021 Shortlister

2- Lightning Strikes Twice

There was static in the air. The slowly brewing storm made the air feel electric. Eli stood in the parking lot of the Blackbird Motel and prayed for lightning.

"My boy, not everyone will like it. Some will consider you a scoundrel, an unwelcome guest in their town." Laying fragile and gaunt on his bed, grandpa Elijah reached his hands towards his grandson. Eli sat next to his grandfather keeping vigil over the sickly elder. The young man looked down at the veins snaking under his grandfather's nearly transparent skin. A maze of truth lay in those veins, under ancient skin. Eli knew his grandpa was dying. It was the only reason the old man set the small blue box on the bedside table and allowed Eli to touch it. "But remember this my child, sometimes dreams are the only things that give people a reason to go on living."

Eli recalled brushing his grandpa's long white hair from his face, tucking a lock behind the elder's ear. On a wrinkly lobe rested a black star tattoo, the same tattoo Eli now bore behind his own dark hair.

Thunder roared on the horizon, splitting the silence and his memories as the rain began to fall. Eli closed his eyes and tipped his head to the drops, he felt them cool against the dry, unforgiving heat. The sound of rain splattering on the ground beside him created a rapid beat. When the teen opened his eyes, he finally saw the lightning strike twice in rapid succession over the hills.

Hoisting his backpack over his shoulder. Eli knew it was time to move on. In the old, green pack were his life's belongings, a few changes of clothes, a toothbrush, a notepad, and a well-worn book of poetry. Nestled among his possessions was the faded blue box his grandfather had given him the day the old man passed. Once, long ago, an exquisite piece of jewelry must have rested in the Tiffany and Co. box. Now a small, metallic button, no bigger than those found on most coats, lay. The silver button held no beauty but its value was grand in the hands of the one who had the gift.

Grandpa Elijah had known his grandson would become like him, he'd seen it in the boy's eyes from an early age. In the hands of most, the metallic button would be no more than a trinket. In the hands of a Collector and Dream Seller, it was invaluable. Collectors and Sellers never ran in the same family; lightning never struck twice. But when Elijah had looked at Eli, the old man knew better.

Eli made his way down the side of the road until the motel was nothing more than a speck. When the owner had seen Eli's star tattoo, he let the teen stay an extra night when he'd run out of cash. All the owner asked in return was for his service.

In whispered words, ol' Joel locked them both in the back office and with shaky hands gestured to the tattoo. "Please," he said almost inaudibly, "I want to see my wife again."

Eli was running out of dreams but he did have a couple left. He knew in the button rested the perfect one for ol' Joel. One he had extracted a few months back from a man who still had dreams.

Sitting on a floral-print armchair, Joel nervously ran his fingers over a small cigarette burn. "Will it hurt?"

Eli unzipped his backpack and took the small blue box out. "No, not at all."

"What..." Joel's gaze moved to the box as the teenager opened it. "What will I feel, son?"

The little button shimmered against the otherwise bleakness. "You'll just dream."

Joel shook his head. "I barely have more than crumbs for memories. My last dream was when I married my Beth. I haven't had one in nearly forty years."

Eli walked to Joel and gave him a faint smile of pity. "What you'll feel is beautiful," he said reassuringly, "like being with your wife again." He touched the button to the man's temple and secured it. When Joel tensed, Eli placed his hand on his shoulder. "Think of your Beth and close your eyes." Joel's dream would be as if through a mist since a thought extracted from another could never give the buyer the exact experience as if they had lived it, but it was close enough and it was more than many could ever wish for.

Eli recalled the tears trickling down the older man's cheeks as he had his dream, then, when it was over, the words of thanks. Joel had not only let him stay the extra night for free but had also handed him ten dollars in gratitude.

The road was quiet. There was nothing more than a faint breeze between the rainfall which unsettled the tall, yellowing grass. Eli heard of a place where he might be able to find more people to harvest from and more to sell to, a town called Los Demonios. And that's where he was heading. It would take a few hours to walk there, but he didn't mind, even in the rain.

When the sound of a car's tires slowing down caught up with him, Eli stopped and looked up to see a rusty truck rolling up. "Hey there pretty thing," said the passenger who had crawled over the driver to poke his head out of the window. "If you're selling, I'm buying."

Eli raised a brow. He had not shown the man his star tattoo indicating he was a Dream Seller, so what could he possibly –

"I said if you're selling I'm real interested. I saw that amazing ass of yours a mile back." The man with pock-marks on his face gave Eli a lecherous smile. He looked like a drooling dog set before a hearty meal.

"What?" Taking a step back, Eli shook his head. "I'm not what you think I am."

The driver fussed and Eli heard him tell his friend to be quick because he was squishing his nuts.

The passenger looked away from Eli long enough to talk to his friend, "Just a mo'. We stopped for that hooker for you yesterday so hold your horses." Returning to Eli, the man held out a ten-dollar bill. "Aw, come on. Everyone is what I think you are if the price is right." He waved the money as Eli shook his head again. "Just show me it?" The man gestured to Eli's groin. "Just for a sec and the cash is yours."

The only money Eli had was the cash ol' Joel had given him. With only one dream left to sell, he knew he needed that bill waving a few feet from him. "Twenty," he said.

The man grinned widely and banged the side of the car excitedly. "Only if it's worth it."

With a scowl, Eli set his backpack down. "It'll be worth it," he said through gritted teeth.

The passenger nodded and produced another ten-dollar bill. "You gonna watch, Sam?" he asked his friend.

"Ain't into boys, Roach. Just be quick, we got to find that albino."

Roach waved the bills like a flag then pointed them towards Eli's crotch. "Undo your jeans slooowly."

Eli's fingers felt foreign. There was one thing he sold and it wasn't himself. But it was only for a minute and he'd have enough money to get a place to crash and food. He'd also have some left over to buy a few dreams if he were lucky enough to find someone to harvest from. The fields around him hissed. The rain had now soaked his hair and the dark strands fell like a wet curtain over his face. Eli looked Heavenward as he unzipped his jeans. Hooking his fingers over them and a pair of black underpants, he inched them down slowly as directed, pausing just below his belly button as his nerves got the best of him.

"Come on," Roach said impatiently, "show me the goodies."

Summoning his courage, Eli pulled his clothes down the rest of the way, exposing himself to the man who by now had begun cheering and howling like some wolf. "Oh, maaaaaan. Look at me," Roach demanded.

Eli lowered his gaze and their eyes met. The man's pock-marked face would leave a stain.

"Are you sure I can't get anything more?"

Quickly lifting his underwear and jeans back up, Eli uttered a quick and firm, No.

"Maybe another time." Chuckling, Roach tossed the two bills on the side of the road. "You've got a damn beautiful di –" But the foul man's words were swallowed by the truck's engine as his friend pushed him back into his seat and drove off.

Eli made sure they had gone before he moved to the money and picked it up.

word count: 1503
total word count: 2426