"Gift of the Gods" by E. W. Farnsworth

Gift of the Gods

by E. W. Farnsworth

One of Golda’s social media friends had a morbid sense of humor—about dentists.  Somehow he or she had obtained her personally identifying information, so her email account invariably had a cartoon or joke about teeth.  Today’s cartoon showed a group of families ranged around a giant tooth with an enormous cavity.  A dentist was declaiming the specimen cavity was so capacious it could hold all the fillings he had performed in his thirty-five years of dental practice.  

Golda was hesitant about deleting the email, but she noticed the sender’s address was giftofthegods@gmail.com.  Intrigued, she decided to answer the email.  She reasoned there could not possibly be any harm in doing that.  Besides, it gave her the opportunity to inform the mystery sender that she no longer wanted to receive his or her missives.  When she clicked SEND, Golda thought the intrusion on her privacy was over.

Seven days after her final email to giftofthegods, a package addressed to her arrived at her front door.  She brought the package into her living room and laid it on the coffee table.  She deliberated what she should do.  She had not requested that anything physical be sent to her, so she thought she had two options—one, to return the package to the sender or two, to discard the package in her trash.  While she was deliberating, a new email appeared in her email inbox.

The email was from giftofthegods.  It acknowledged sending the gift and inquired whether she liked it.  Golda was incensed.  She emailed back that she never asked for a gift and she wanted instructions for its return.  She did not have to wait long for a reply. The giver wrote that returning the gift was impossible.  It had been fashioned just for her, and any attempt to return or destroy the gift would only trigger another identical to the first.

Golda informed the sender that she would pay no attention to threats, and she stated she would inform the police if any further correspondence or gifts were to arrive at her home.  Her angry email, once sent, received no reply.  Golda felt relieved to have cut the sender off absolutely.  She went back to her normal activities, but she did not attempt to return the package or to throw it away.  So, the package sat on her coffee table where she had positioned it.

Seven days later another package, identical to the original, arrived.  She placed itt alongside the first one and waited.  This time, no accompanying email from the sender reached her email inbox.  Again, she felt relieved, but she had doubts about the wisdom of continuing to keep the packages.  She was now determined to throw the packages away unopened though her curiosity had been aroused.  Bravely, she drove the packages to the local trash collection facility and dropped them in the dumpster.

The next morning, she saw a dense cloud of black smoke rising from the trash collection facility.  She did not want to connect her packages to the flames and smoke, but the police came to her door in the early afternoon to inquire about the two packages she had deposited as they were at the center of an investigation of arson.  “We have video tapes of your placing two packages in the dumpster, but we have not been able to determine what was in those packages or what started the fires in the dumpster.”

She said, “I do not know what was in the packages.  I do not know who sent them.  I just wanted them out of my house.”

The police detective said, “I believe you, but I want you to know you are not the only individual who has received similar packages.  The others have not placed their packages in the trash as you did, but terrible things have happened to everyone who has removed the wrappings.  The sender seems to have a weird sense of humor.  I am going to give you my business card.  If you receive anything further from the sender, I want you to call me immediately at any. Time during the day or night.”

“You have me frightened now.  The mystery sender seems to want to do harm.  And he or she has signaled that nothing can stop his packages from getting through.”

“Ma’am, you need not worry now, for we are on the case.  Just be sure to call the number on that card I gave you.  We will take things from there.”

Golda was somewhat reassured by the detective’s words.  She taped his business card to her computer’s display.  She hoped she would not have to use the number, but she saw no alternative to doing so if another email or package arrived from the mystery sender.

The holiday season soon eclipsed all activities in the neighborhood.  Packages of all kinds were arriving, but none were apparently from giftofthegods.  One delivery truck had an odd mishap in the road by Golda’s mailbox.  It burst into flame and the combustion exploded just after the delivery driver exited his vehicle.  Golda sensed a connection to the dumpster fire she had witnessed, so she telephoned the detective, who wasted no time in arriving.

“I am glad you called us.  I am convinced the delivery van was carrying a package identical to the two you placed in the dumpster.  Did you receive an email from the sender?”

“I have received no emails from giftofthegods.  If I do receive anything, I shall let you know.”

The next morning, it began to snow.  All signs of the fire that had destroyed the mail delivery truck were covered with a thick white mantle.  Golda received an email from giftofthegods, but it was plaintive rather than threatening.  The sender wanted to know why his goodwill gestures were being misunderstood.  Golda telephoned the detective, who advised her to keep communicating with the sender while he hurried over.  

The detective never did arrive, but a new package appeared on Golda’s porch—her last.