The Perfect Gift

Chapter 8

Mary's father and the small boy reappeared in the door of the mercantile, with Mary's father in control. He had the small boy's jacket gripped tightly by his large hands and he pushed the boy outwards, further into the shop. Mary quickly decided that enough was enough, and that they had to cut the sale day short. She walked briskly to the door, and flipped the sign that had said open, so that it now read closed. She thought she saw her father flinch by this action and was worried that he would be mad at her for making the decision on her own, but it had to be done, she thought. Everything was silent, until Mary's father spoke up.

"Mary, would you mind telling me exactly why I have this boy in my grip?" he asked.

"I-I-I'm sorry Pa, it was all my fault. I turned around to get my apron on, and when I turned back around, he was almost gone, and then - and then - well you know the rest." Mary said, panicked.

Mary's father looked at her, and then nodded. He turned towards the boy and pushed him onto the single couch.

"What's your name, boy?" asked Mary's father.

"Samuel, sir."

"Samuel.... Samuel...where have I heard that name before? Mary, do you know?" asked Mary's father.

"I don't know, Pa. Perhaps one of the school children?"

"Perhaps, but how come he wasn't in school then? Plus, by the looks of it, he doesn't look like the prosperous type, especially after he stole from here so I doubt he would be affording school."

"I suppose."

Then Samuel spoke very softly.

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean no harm. It's just too hard. We have nothing. I have nothing. It's just me and my dog and - "

"You mean you're all alone? Mary interrupted.

"Well, except for Rex, yes. I only can survive off of stealing."

"Well it just isn't right." said Mary's father. "You can't steal from people!"

"It's not that I haven't been taught well, sir, it's just that no one else takes care of me. So what am I supposed to do? I have no other option."

Mary's father sighed then said,

"So what was it that you took exactly, Samuel?"

The little boy pulled out an apple from his pocket.

"That's all. I promise." said Samuel, in a sincere tone.

"I believe him Pa," said Mary.

Mary felt bad for Samuel. He had nowhere to go, and certainly no one to look after him.

"What should we do Pa? We can't just leave him like this, can we?" questioned Mary.

"No, we certainly cannot."

Mary's father thought a lot, and then spoke up.

"I know! He'll stay here tonight, and then in the morning, I'll take him to the orphanage just outside of our town. He can get some help there, and I'll make a request that he be put into someone's care, and hopefully, to be taken in for good. He's so young, and there's still so much potential in him, so we will do all that we can to find him a new home."

"Oh! Thank you Pa! I knew you would do whatever you could!" Mary exclaimed happily.

"Thanks," said Samuel.

He was so quiet and small, and so Mary was surprised to notice him still sitting on the couch.

"You can keep the apple, but next time, don't steal, instead ask, and even then you may not get what you want, but at least you have a better chance," said Mary's father.

"Okay," responded the boy.

"Mary, why don't you take Samuel and show him around the place and he can help you with some of your chores?" said Mary's father.

"Okay, Pa."

Mary watched Samuel stand up from the couch and walk towards her. She turned her back on him, and started to walk towards the storage room again.

"Thank you," came a whisper from behind her.

Mary turned around and looked the boy over. He was so young and scrawny. She felt so bad for him.

"You know, why don't we skip chores and have some hot cocoa instead?" she asked Samuel.

"Yes, please!" exclaimed Samuel.

Mary and Samuel stopped and turned around and walked back into the kitchen. Out of all the foods and drinks that Mary had been able to afford, hot cocoa was her favorite. Warm, and delightful on my tongue, she always thought. This boy should have the chance to experience this warmth too.

Samuel had awoken Mary from her sensational thought of hot cocoa as he said, "I don't get hot cocoa very often," said the boy. His voice became softer as he kept talking as if he was nervous to speak. "I haven't had any in a long time."

Mary wanted to push him and ask more questions about what he meant, but she had only met the boy and didn't want to scare him away.

"Well, that's too bad, but let's enjoy some today," said Mary, trying to encourage Samuel. Mary thought if she was open about her life, perhaps the little boy would share his story too. "My Ma always made the perfect hot cocoa. Whenever we would have friends over, everyone would request that she make her hot cocoa. I can't think of a single person who didn't like it."

"What happened to her?"

Mary almost tried to lie, but instead decided to tell the boy the truth.

"She died. She was sick. Last November." Mary could only talk in little chunks, because she was too nervous to talk naturally.

"Oh. I'm sorry," said Samuel.

"Uh - thanks," managed Mary.

Mary finished making the hot cocoa for herself and Samuel. As she brought it over to the table she spoke.

"I wish my Ma were here to make you the best cup of hot cocoa ever. That would be sure to cheer you up! I know my way isn't amazing, but my Pa says it's still good, and that I get some of the talent from my ma."

Mary watched closely, as the boy took a small sip of the steaming hot cocoa. She wanted to please him, just like her mother would to her guests.

"Mmm. This is very good. Thank you." responded Samuel. After that, he raised the cup once more and drank the rest of the cup in one gulp.
Mary felt her cheek grow warm and smiled. A real smile. Not the fake smile she had been using since November.