A/N: Hey guys--thanks to everyone who's watching and faving this fic so far. It's very kind of you certainly...but everyone loves reviews! ;)
She knew he was still alive after the third little item was left on her doorstep. It had been wrapped in old, slightly soggy newspaper and it had been absolutely beautiful—a large butterfly made of tin and old wirebrush with bits of brightly colored glass and plastic wired into shapes cut into the wings like stained glass; brilliant blue, plastic green and crackled red and when she'd hung it in the window, it cast brightly colored shadows on her bedroom wall. She cried every time she saw them, in the mornings when the sun came through just right and sent the shapes gently sliding this way and that along the wall as the trinket spun and swayed on its string.
After that, Tania had started staying up nights, trying to catch him in the act. She would sit in the living room, in the dark, with a cup of coffee, ears straining at every little noise outside. Heart racing every time something scrabbled across the walk, over the driveway, she would will herself to stand and look out the window or to throw open the door but her body never obeyed, heart and mind at war; one wanting only to see him again, to talk to him and the other needing to avoid what she knew was true: her mind might break at the sight of her husband now a monster. And she couldn't bear it if she screamed in his face in horror and scared him off forever.
The last gift had been left just over a week ago, and they were becoming more infrequent—of course, she could understand that. It was almost 250 kilometers for him to travel, and she imagined that even on those long and quick legs he must now have (she tried not to shudder at the thought), the journey would still be tiring, and very dangerous. The present this time consisted of a giraffe made from scraps of cloth stretched and tied over a wire frame and it was accompanied by a smaller-than-usual flower which had only four petals and was rather ragged and haphazardly made. She supposed he had been interrupted in it's completion somehow, and loved it all the same. Tania had also, this time, willed herself to get up from the sofa and look out the window after the rustling of newspaper died down outside the front door. She did not see Wikus, and was uncertain whether she should be thankful for that—but there was, just at the end of the drive behind one of the sadly overgrown topiary, a small figure crouched and not-well hidden, bright and large eyes fixed on the front door.
Tania wondered why Wikus would send a child all that long way alone, and then figured he must not have, he must be nearby himself and more adept at hiding in shadows. For a moment, her heart won out and she moved quickly to the front door, carefully clicking it open and peeking out into the dark places around the reach of the streetlights. The little creature hiding in the bushes leaned up curiously, peering around the edge of the foliage until he—it?--nearly fell over. Tania picked up the present and stepped out onto the front step, looking over at the child and making it duck away behind the bushes. She called to it, trying to keep quiet.
"Hullo? I see you there...is Wikus with you? I just...I just want to see him..." her voice wavered and she could feel her eyes prickling even as her bare feet moved her down from the step onto the little path to the drive, but when she came forward, the creature startled and darted out from behind the topiary and off up the road, turning into a dark lawn and hopping over a fence.
There was no other movement, no other sound in the dark apart from her own quiet sobs. Wikus wasn't here, and she knew she would not have the courage to look out the window a second time.
Tania clutched her gifts to her breast and fled back into the house.