Surprise, Surprise
The dimly lit room appeared as if to smile at my family and me. A deep chocolate wood concealed the walls halfway the kind of color that makes you crave for chocolate. The table was a matching wood but just a slightly ashier; the chairs were an uncomfortable in-between of comfort and luxury. The food, oh my, the food smelled like heaven. The beefy lasagna called my name as my mother reached for her bag, secretly retrieving a folder, the kind you would see in a spy movie, only smaller. It was a golden yellow, but not luxurious, almost flat color branded with a Hallmark logo. I could feel my stomach convulse nervously, almost threatening to return the lasagna.
She slyly handed me the envelope gently chiding my father about being impatient and ruining surprises. I disregarded that last part as I opened the top sleeve. I opened the letter with a phony amazed look on my face. A sleazy noise escaped the letter, the kind a cobra would make before striking her prey. Benjamins and Jacksons poured out; it was more money than I’ve ever seen in my life! The phony look was quickly replaced for a genuine euphoric grin. My face felt like a five alarm soup, bright red, waiting to explode. All the questions clouded in my mind like a brainstorm waiting to happen.
I slipped the sleek green pieces of paper into my hands, the smell poured into my nostrils like a pine tree sitting in a claustrophobic living room. I gracefully counted them while trying to find a clear piece of sky in my brain to process more thoughts. As I announced the amount I realized what it was for, these programs for my computer I’ve been asking to get for months! I clamped my lips to prevent an embarrassing shriek to escape from deep within my stomach. My brain stopped like a gazelle would should it encounter a lion, it wasn’t sufficient, I remembered as my euphoric high ended; it wasn’t enough; I was so close to getting my slice of heaven but extremely far. My parents noticed the sudden but slight shift in my face; my father spoke up “It’s not enough but I’ll try to get the rest Monday.”
Right then and there my brother, the one whom I mistreat the most shifted in his seat to remove a small leather rectangle from the temporary depression in his behind. He opened it making a cocky groan as if to mock my shortage of green. But suddenly he retrieved two sheets and handed them to me wordlessly. Wordless, I was, for I had thought a snotty remark would surely follow. The bill stared at me its eyes powerful like a laser piercing my soul. It dawned on me then, that the ones you don’t appreciate might be the ones to help you the most.
