Cecelia Ahern - The Gift

The sight stole words straight from his mouth.

Inside was a small stockroom, the walls lined from floor to ceiling with metal shelves, filled with everything from lightbulbs to toilet rolls. There were two aisles, both of them no more than ten feet in length, and it was the second aisle that caught Lou’s attention. Through the shelving units, light came from the ground. Walking closer to the aisle, he could see the familiar sleeping bag laid out from the wall. On the sleeping bag was Gabe, reading a book, so engrossed that he didn’t look up as Lou approached. On the lower shelves a row of candles was lit, the same scented kind that were dotted around all the office bathrooms, and a shadeless lamp sent out a small amount of orange light in the corner of the room. Gabe was wrapped up in the same dirty blanket that Lou recognized from Gabe’s days out on the street. A kettle was on a shelf and a plastic sandwich bag was half empty beside him. Gabe’s new suit hung from a shelf, still covered in plastic.

Gabe looked up then, and his book went flying from his hands, just missing one of the candles, as he sat up straight and alert.

“Lou,” he said, with a fright.

“Gabe,” Lou said, and he didn’t feel the satisfaction he thought he should. The sight before him was sad. No wonder the man had been first at the office every morning. This small storeroom piled high with shelves of miscellaneous junk had become Gabe’s home.

“Are you going to tell?” Gabe asked, though he didn’t sound concerned, just interested.

Lou looked back at him and felt pity. “Does Harry know you’re here?”

Gabe shook his head.

Lou thought about it. “I won’t say a word.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ve been staying here all week?”

Gabe nodded.

“It’s cold in here.”

“Yeah. Heat goes off when everyone leaves.”

“I can get you a few blankets or, em, an electric heater or something, if you want,” Lou said, feeling foolish as soon as the words were out.

“Yeah, thanks, that would be good. Sit down.” Gabe pointed to a crate that was on the bottom shelf. “Please.”

Lou pushed up his coat sleeves as he reached for the crate, not wanting the dust and dirt to get on him, and he slowly sat down.

“Do you want a coffee? It’s black, I’m afraid; the latte machine isn’t working.”

“No, thanks. I just stepped out to get a few headache pills,” Lou replied, missing the joke while looking around in distraction. “By the way, I appreciate your driving me home last night.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How did you know where I lived?”

“I guessed,” Gabe said sarcastically, pouring himself some coffee from the kettle. At Lou’s look, he added, “Your house was the only one on the street with gates. Bad tasting gates, at that. They had a bird on top. A bird?”

“It’s an eagle,” Lou said defensively, and then finally came out with it. “Why did you want me to be late for work this morning?”

Gabe fixed those blue eyes on him, and despite the fact Lou had a six-figure salary and a multimillion-euro house in one of the most affluent areas in Dublin, and all Gabe had was this, Lou once again felt like the underdog, like he was being judged.

“Figured you needed the rest,” Gabe responded.

“Who are you to decide that?”

Gabe simply smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“You don’t like me, do you, Lou?”

Well, it was direct. It was to the point, no beating around the bush, and Lou appreciated that. But before Lou had the opportunity to answer, Gabe continued.

“You’re worried about my presence in this building,” he said simply.

“Worried? No. You can sleep where you like. This doesn’t bother me.”

“That’s not what I mean. Do I threaten you, Lou?”

Lou threw his head back and laughed. It was exaggerated and he knew it, but he didn’t care. It had the desired effect. His laugh filled the room and echoed in the small concrete cell against the open ceiling of exposed wires. “Intimidated by you? Well, let’s see…” He held his hands out to indicate the room Gabe was living in. “Do I really need to say any more?” he said pompously.

“Oh, I get it.” Gabe smiled broadly, as though guessing the winning answer to a quiz. “I have fewer things than you. I forgot that meant something to you.” He laughed lightly and snapped his fingers, leaving Lou feeling stupid.

“Things aren’t important to me,” Lou defended himself weakly. “I’m involved in lots of charities. I give things away all the time.”

“Yes,” Gabe nodded solemnly, “even your word.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t keep that, either.” He started rooting in a shoe box on the second shelf. “Your head still at you?”

Lou nodded and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“Here.” Gabe retrieved a small container of pills. “You always wonder how I get from place to place? Take one of these.” He tossed them over to Lou.

Lou studied them. There was no label on the container.

“What are they?”

“They’re a little bit of magic,” Gabe said with a laugh. “When taken, everything becomes clear.”

“I don’t do drugs.” Lou handed them back, placing them on the end of Gabe’s sleeping bag.

“They’re not drugs.”

“Then what’s in them?”

“I’m not a pharmacist, just take them. All I know is that they work.”

“No, thanks.” Lou stood and prepared to leave.

“They’d help you a lot, you know, Lou.”

“Who says I need help?” Lou said. “You know what, Gabe? You asked me if I don’t like you. Overall, I don’t really mind you. I’m a busy man, I’m not much bothered by you. But this, this is what I don’t like about you, patronizing statements like that. I’m fine, thank you very much. My life is fine. All I have is a headache — and that’s it. Okay?”

Gabe simply nodded, and Lou turned around and made his way toward the door.

Gabe started again. “People like you — ”

“Like what, Gabe?” Lou turned around and snapped, his voice rising with each sentence. “People like me what? Work hard? Like to provide for their families? Don’t sit on their asses on the ground all day waiting for handouts? People like me who help people like you, who go out of their way to give you a job and make your life better…”

Had Lou waited to hear the end of Gabe’s sentence, he would have learned that Gabe was implying quite the opposite. Gabe was referring to people like Lou who were competitive. Ambitious people, with their eye on the prize instead of the task at hand. People who wanted to be the best for all the wrong reasons and who’d take almost any path to get there. Being the best was only slightly better than being in the middle, which was equal to being the worst. All were merely a state of being. It was how a person felt in that state and why that was the important thing.

Gabe wanted to explain to Lou that people like him were always looking at what the next person was doing, always looking to achieve more and greater things. Always wanting to be better. And the entire point of Gabe’s telling Lou Suffern about people like Lou Suffern was to warn him that people who constantly looked over their shoulders often bumped into things.

Paths are so much clearer when people stop looking at what everyone else is doing and instead concentrate on themselves. Lou couldn’t afford to bump into any more things at this point in the story. If he had, it would have surely ruined the ending, to which we’ve yet to arrive. Yes, Lou still had much to do.

But Lou didn’t stick around to hear any of that. He left the storeroom, shaking his head with disbelief at Gabe’s cheekiness as he walked back down the corridor with the dodgy fluorescent lighting. He found his way to the exit and ran up the stairs to the ground floor.