The Tiffany Box- ONC 2021 Shortlister

7- Little Memories

On his belly, wrapped up in the dark blue comforter like some caterpillar, Eli lay awake thinking about the previous night. He had spent his last dream on Connie. Sitting in the after-glow of her memory, Eli had watched the woman silently weep. Her eyes had been focused straight ahead to an old photograph of a large family hanging from a nail on the wall. When Eli had placed the button carefully in the belly of the velvety Tiffany Box, he heard her whisper words of love for her lost loved-ones. Eli had quietly taken the money she'd left for him and slipped out of the door wordlessly.

Eli had sat on the stoop of Connie's building eating a portion of his food. He'd eaten a few spring rolls and half of the sweet and sour chicken, the rest he'd saved so he could eat again. The next two hours had been spent wandering the town unsuccessfully for a person to harvest from. There were few people on the streets and when Eli looked at them he knew they had no dreams left inside them.

Noon now danced over the horizon. There was little noise coming from outside apart from the wind picking up a can and rattling it like a child with its toy. There were no people opening and closing doors, no one chatting, no children playing. Reaching towards the remote control, Eli switched on the TV before the sound of silence drove him batty.

A black and white film played. It was a movie Eli had watched years ago as a kid. Propping his chin in his hands, he recalled that moment in time. He must have been about ten years old. His grandpa and him were sitting on the old paisley print sofa, their legs tucked under a comforter similar to the one wrapped around him now. Grandma was in the kitchen making popcorn. Though she didn't approve of a young boy watching a movie about an overgrown lizard terrorizing a city, it was Grandpa's gentle cajoling and the way he touched her cheek that made her smile and give in. "If he has nightmares, Elijah, I'll be blaming you."

"If he can have them, then we'll be thankful, Dotty. Just like we're thankful he can dream," grandpa reminded his wife.

Granny Dot looked towards Eli and nodded to her husband. "I'm thankful we all can."

Drawing in a deep, mournful breath, Eli blinked back to the here and now. "Miss you both," he whispered to the sky before wriggling out of the bed to go and feed D'Artagnan and wash up.

In the bowl, the fish glanced up at Eli when the young man entered the bathroom, yet it remained in its little nest between the plastic trees as Eli quickly brushed his teeth and raked a comb through his hair.

Taping a few flakes in the bowl, Eli watched the fish dare to swim out a millimeter. "Hungry, D'Art?" Eli wished the fishbowl was bigger, that the little fish has more room to stretch his fins in. He knew that goldfish died prematurely in unfiltered bowls and wondered how much it would cost to get him a new tank with a filter and a cave where D'Art could hide in. "Let's hope I find people to harvest from," he told the fearful fish, "then I may end up staying here a while, may have a few extra bills in my pocket. I could maybe gettcha a bigger home. That would be cool, huh?" Eli set the fish food down and backed away from the frightened fish. "Wish me luck, D'Art. I'm going to need it."

Reentering the main room, Eli grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from a hanger and threw them on. He placed the blue box in his backpack, slipped on his shoes then tossed out a little prayer to his departed grandparents that today he would be lucky enough to find a vessel to collect from.  

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