Chapter 3
***Usual disclaimers. Don't own TWD or any of the stuff and thangs. At present, wouldn't want to. That MSF was a stinker.***
Me: My apologies for the delay in updating...holiday goodness and crazy work are the reasons. Hope your own holidays are joyful and merry!
Carl sighed as he put the scarf back down, shaking his head. "I don't think this is it."
"Nothing has 'been it' at the last ten stores," Enid noted. "Michonne likes a lot of stuff. Maybe you're just, like, thinking about it too much. I think she'd like anything you got her…'cause it'd be from you."
Carl took her hand and squeezed it quickly before letting it go, slightly flushed. Enid had come with him to the mall to buy presents and she'd already picked out what she'd come to get...but Carl was having a tougher time. Judith had been easy because she'd made a list. He always got his dad socks (the nice ones), since he liked them so much and seemed to go through so many pairs, and for his mom he'd decided on some of the chocolates he knew Lori liked. But Mich was a different story. He wanted to get her something really cool that he knew she'd be surprised by...but he was also operating on limited funds, which made it kind of difficult.
"But I want it to be...really cool. I want it to be something that makes her happy because she wasn't expecting it, you know?" Carl explained to Enid. "I didn't get her anything last year 'cause Dad put all our names on the gift he got her. This year, it's different. She's my...well, my other mom, and she's been really cool about Mom and is really nice to her. She didn't have to be that cool about everything...but she was. So it has to be special."
Enid nodded her understanding. "I get it. We'll keep looking."
An hour later two very disgruntled teens flopped down into seats at the food court, having just ordered bacon cheeseburgers, fries and sodas.
"There isn't anything here," Carl grumbled.
"It's not that there's nothing here," Enid observed sagely, "It's that there's nothing here that's going to work. But it's not like we've looked in every single store. And there's always other places. You don't have to find it today, Carl."
"I know...but Christmas isn't far away. Maybe there's time, but there's not that much of it."
A surly-looking boy with unruly black hair and copious amounts of acne banged down a tray with their food on the table, causing them both to jump. "ThanksforchoosingKingsBurger, whereeveryoneeatslikeaking. Enjoy," he intoned. He slunk off.
Both examined the food cautiously before coming to the conclusion that it was okay. They dug in. Enid took a large bite out of her burger while Carl chewed meditatively on a fry.
"I know she really likes Japanese stuff," Carl reflected. "After lunch we can check out that import shop upstairs. Maybe they'll have something," he finished hopefully.
"Yush. Lezz ger chik ut oot uffer wuh oot," Enid mumbled thickly around a mouth of burger.
"Huh?" Carl asked, bewildered.
Enid swallowed her bite of burger noisily. "I said, 'Yes, let's go check it out after we eat.' Sorry, but I am starving. We've been walking around a lot."
Carl's face flushed again...which seemed to happen a lot whenever he was around her. "I'm sorry. Yeah, of course."
"Don't be sorry." She gave him a soft smile and reached out to squeeze his hand. "But just let me finish this." She gestured with the hand that was holding her burger. "And you should finish yours, too. We're gonna find something. I know it."
They ate their food, Enid with some haste and Carl not far behind her. After, they headed towards the import shop, which every once on a while, despite having a lot of worthless gewgaws and some items that were frankly tacky, had a few things that were truly remarkable.
It didn't take long to find it.
On a wooden rack in the shop rested a wakizashi, a kodachi and a katana. The katana had a brown and white scabbard that appeared to be made of leather.
Carl removed it carefully from the rack and held it up. It was surprisingly light. He unsheathed it, pleased at the snicking sound it made. The blade gleamed brightly, especially under the store's lights. It was like something out of the samurai movies Mich was always watching.
"Very cool," Enid said approvingly.
"Be careful with that!" came a tense voice from behind them. They turned to find a harassed - looking woman with a disheveled blonde bun and freckled face looking worriedly at the blade. Her name tag, proclaiming her as Betsy, indicated she was an employee of the store.
"It's sitting right there on the rack," Enid snapped defensively. "And we're not little kids! It's not like he's gonna cut himself."
"I just wanted to see what it looked like," Carl explained, sheathing the sword slowly back in the scabbard. "I'm looking for a present for my stepmom and she loves this kinda stuff."
Betsy relaxed visibly. "Okay. Sorry about that...but you wouldn't believe how many people start swinging that thing around, thinking they're Toshiro Mifune! We've had stuff knocked over, broken. Our manager was talking about putting it behind the counter." She sighed deeply.
"How much is it?" Carl asked eagerly.
"It's actually kind of a bargain!" Betsy perked up. "There's this swordsmith out of Japan, Ryuichi Takanashi, who makes traditional swords. His stuff actually comes with certificates of authenticity...for the technique and everything. He's gaining a reputation. We were lucky to get this one. It's not one of his fancier works...but still pretty great," she enthused.
"That's cool, but...the price?" Enid prompted gently.
"Only five hundred! Can you believe it? It's practically a steal," Betsy replied happily. "Most of his stuff is at least a thousand."
Carl's heart sank. Five hundred, even as a steal, was more than he had. He was only carrying seventy-five. He did have another hundred and fifty at home, which he'd been saving towards an Xbox...but that could wait.
"Is there any way that I could put down some money on it to hold it?" Carl questioned.
Betsy brow furrowed. "Layaway isn't something we normally do...but if you put down 20% I could hold it for a couple weeks," she offered.
"I only have seventy-five," Carl said regretfully.
"Here's twenty-five." Enid had dug into her small purse and held out a couple of crumpled bills.
"I can't take that-" Carl protested.
"Don't be dumb. You can take it. I know this is important...and I really like Mich, too. And I'm guessing you have a plan for the rest of the money, right?"
Carl's expression was one of quiet resolve. "I do."
"Then don't be stupid, take it. If it bugs you that much, you can always pay me back...or take me out sometime. Like on a real date." She handed over the money, noting Carl's surprised look of pleasure. She smiled to herself.
He handed Betsy the hundred. She took the sword off the wooden rack and motioned them to come up to the counter. "I'll get you a receipt written up. Don't worry, if you can't come up with the rest, the deposit's refundable."
"I'll come up with the rest," Carl stated firmly. "This is her gift, this is it."
To Be Continued