The Gift: A Short Story (Voices of the Apocalypse Book 4) by Simone Pond Read Free Book Online Page B

small wheat crop he had planted in a nearby field nobody paid attention to. The chicken was from one of the older birds that had seen better days. He glanced toward the corner and noticed a face peering out, then it quickly vanished. He chuckled to himself.  
    “You want some? It’s purty tasty chicken,” he yelled, holding up the sandwich.  
    Keyla came around the corner and shuffled over to Ransom. She sat down and gobbled up that sandwich faster than a cyclone. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, she looked at Ransom. “I can give you back the eggs. I don’t know how I’ll cook them anyway.”  
    “How ‘bout you exchange them eggs for this here quilt. It’ll keep you warm at night.”
    “No, I couldn’t.”  
    She was prideful little thing, but he understood. “I don’t need another dang quilt, so I’m just gonna leave it behind if you don’t take it.”
    “You’re fibbing.” She lightly punched his arm.
    He winked and handed her the quilt.
    “Why are you being so kind to me?” she asked.
    “Probably ‘cause you remind me of my girl.”
    She widened her eyes. “Your daughter was black?”  
    He shook his head, laughing. “Nah, just somethin’ in yer eyes is all.”  
    “I’m sure she was a good daughter for you to be so nice to me.”
    “Emma was the best kid a parent could ever have.”  
    “What happened to her? The Repatterning?” Keyla asked.  
    Ransom was grateful for the approaching customer. He stood to greet Mayor Craig Parks, whose overcoat was swallowing him up. He used to be a husky fellow, but now he was loose skin on bones.  
    “Good to see you, Mayor, sir,” Ransom held out his hand and gave Mayor Parks a firm shake, setting the feeble man off balance.  
    “You too, Ransom. I don’t have much to barter, but I’m hoping you can help out. I have a sick wife at home. Your eggs might do her some good.” The Mayor gave a weak smile and held out a pocket watch. “It’s a family heirloom, but it’s not doing much good collecting dust.”
    “I don’t feel right taking it, sir.”
    “It’s all I have of value.” He lowered his head, shamefully.
    “Hows about I give you the eggs free of charge. We can figures out somethin’ later down the road.”
    Mayor Parks grinned and looked over at Keyla. “I might have something for your friend.” He dug into his coat pocket, pulled out a pair of pearl hair combs, and pressed them into her small hand.
    “Oh, sir, you don’t have to do that.” Keyla tried to give them back. “Though they are beautiful.”
    “They belonged to my wife’s grandmother. Please take them. She’ll be happy to know someone with such pretty hair could make good use of them.”
    “Wait.” She opened her bag and pulled out the sweater, offering the eggs.
    “For cripes sake,” Ransom huffed. “That’s enough outta both of you. Keyla, you keep those eggs, you need ‘em you skinny little thing. And sir, I’ll give you a dozen eggs for those combs. That’s that.”  
    “Thank you, Ransom.” Mayor Parks wiped a tear from his sunken cheek.
    “Now you git on home to that wife of yours and fix her up somethin’ real good.” He helped the Mayor back down the street toward his more recent living quarters––an abandoned hat shop. His mansion had been burned to the ground earlier that year.
    “That was awfully nice of you, Ransom,” Keyla said, awkwardly jabbing the comb’s prongs into a tuft of hair.  
    Ransom chuckled. “Here, let me help.”  
    It had been a while since Ransom had done the task of taming a young girl’s hair. He fumbled a few minutes until he finally got the pearl combs evenly placed. With her hair pulled back, he could really see the depth of her sadness.  
    “Purty.” He patted the poof of hair.
    “Thanks, Ransom. I’m glad I met you. It’s been rough.”  
    Ransom sat back down on the curb and Keyla joined him. A chilly autumn breeze picked up. She took the quilt and wrapped it around her scrawny