An Unexpected Gift
What do you get a girl who has everything?
That question preyed upon James Halleck's mind for weeks. It was not an exaggeration. His girlfriend, Piper Wythe, was the only child of a man who had made billions on Wall Street. Both Barton Wythe and his ex-wife, Eva Marie, who walked away from the marriage with half his money, spoiled the girl outrageously. Calling both her father's Tribeca loft and her mother's Bergen County, New Jersey, mansion home, Piper spent the summer months in the Hamptons and winter breaks from school in Key West. Her numerous walk-in closets, all of which were larger than James's bedroom, were filled with clothes, many of which still had the sales tags on them.
Clothes were not the only things the girl possessed in overabundance. Her closets also held a multitude of shoes and handbags. Additionally, she owned the latest, top-of-the-line electronics, including cell phones, computers and tablets. Her New York and Florida homes had large-screen TVs and expensive stereo systems, and the New Jersey house had a home theater. For her sixteenth birthday, she received a Mercedes convertible from her dad and a two-week trip to Paris from her mom.
Now her seventeenth birthday was approaching, and she was having a party on her father's yacht. James had been her steady boyfriend for the past six months, so his name was at the top of the guest list.
"I'm gonna have to bring a present," he moaned as he and his mother walked through a flea market and antique fair. "But what can I give her?"
"What about a necklace or bracelet? Or perhaps a pair of earrings?"
"Nah. She's got more jewelry than she knows what to do with."
"Perfume then."
"She's fussy. She only wears one fragrance, and you have to buy it in France."
"Really?" Mrs. Halleck asked, convinced the girl was too rich from her son's blood.
"I know what you're thinking: that I should date someone more like me, who comes from a family with a mortgage on their house and who celebrates their kids' birthdays at the roller-skating rink."
"At least you would know what to get such a girl for her birthday."
"I like Piper. She may come across as a princess now and then, but deep down, she's a nice kid."
"As long as you like her, that's what's important. But be careful. I don't mind that my son is setting himself up to be a male version of Cinderella, just as long as he doesn't wind up with a broken heart and a glass sneaker when the clock strikes twelve."
"Don't worry, Ma. I can take care of myself."
As his mother stopped to look through a box of used cookbooks, James continued his search for a gift.
"Can I help you, young man?" a friendly voice called to him.
The teenager turned and faced the vendor, an overweight man with tightly curling dark hair. Obviously not fastidious in his grooming, he wore a shirt with food stains down the front.
"I'm just looking," the teenager answered.
"Well, look no more. Whatever you want, I'm bound to have it."
"That's the problem. I don't know what I want."
"Then let me help you. I'm Omar Applebee, a purveyor of the unique and unusual."
"I need to buy a present for my girlfriend. She's turning seventeen."
Omar put his stubby hand to his badly shaven cheek and frowned.
"Seventeen, huh?" he echoed, giving the impression that he was deep in thought. "That's a hard age. Not yet an adult but no longer a child."
"And did I mention her family has more money than God and that they buy her everything she wants?"
"That does complicate matters."
"Tell me about it! I've been racking my brain for weeks, wondering what to buy her."
"You know, sometimes a gift isn't so much about the recipient as it is about the giver."
"Huh?"
"Tell me a little about yourself. What are your interests?"
"I'm a jock. I love sports. All sports. Football, basketball, hockey, baseball, soccer."
"I think I've got just the thing," the unkempt vendor declared, rummaging through a pile of boxes in the back of his van. "If I can only find it. Ah, here it is."
The object in Omar Applebee's hand was a closed cylinder made of burnished bronze. It stood roughly three inches high and was about five inches in diameter. There was a swirling pattern etched into the side and a large eye carved into the top. The eyeball was made of green glass. It was not a human eye, for the pupil was not round in shape; rather, it was elliptical like the eye of a cat or a snake.
"What is it?" James asked, intrigued by the oddity.
"It's a music box."
"How does it work?"
"See for yourself," Omar replied, handing the cylinder to the customer.
"How do I wind it up?"
"You don't. Just press the eye."
When the young man did as instructed, the green glass began to glow. Moments later, a song started to play. There were no words, but James recognized the melody.
"That's incredible!" he exclaimed. "It's playing that old Elvis song, 'Love Me Tender.' You're not going to believe this, but that song was playing on our first date. It's since become our song."
He had to buy it, regardless of what it cost. It was the perfect gift to give to Piper.
"How much is it?"
"Well, it is a unique piece," Omar declared, sizing up the young man, as though trying to determine how much he could afford to spend. "Why don't you make me an offer?"
"I have twenty dollars in my pocket."
He could always ask his mother to lend him another ten.
"Let's say fifteen then. I hate to take a customer's last dime," the vendor laughed.
* * *
When James boarded Barton Wythe's yacht, he was dismayed to see the number of people dressed in eveningwear.
"I didn't know this was supposed to be a formal affair," he apologized to his host, who was greeting guests at the top of the gangplank. "Or I would have rented a tux."
"Don't worry about it. What you're wearing is fine. My daughter is in her cabin, putting on her makeup, but she'll be down in a minute. Can I get you something to drink? A soda? Would your parents object if I gave you a glass of wine?"
"That's okay. I'm not thirsty."
Since more people were boarding the boat behind him, the young man walked away in search of a familiar face. However, most of the partygoers were strangers, either relatives or family friends. After putting his gift on a large pile of wrapped packages, he finally spotted Selena Sanchez, Piper's best friend.
"Thank God there's another person here under fifty!" Selena joked when she saw him.
"Fifty? That's an exaggeration."
"Well, they seem old. Don't they?"
"I suppose so. You look nice."
"Thanks. I'm glad somebody noticed. I spent three weeks' allowance on this outfit at Macy's."
When Piper made her appearance in a pink and gold Versace cocktail dress, Selena might just as well have been wearing a cotton frock from one of Kmart's blue light specials. Adjectives like stunning, radiant, breathtaking and lovely could be heard from the crowd, but no mere word could express how beautiful the seventeen-year-old looked.
"You're here!" she gushed and threw her arms around James. "I'm so glad you could make it."
"I couldn't miss your birthday."
"Come on, let me introduce you to everybody."
As Piper led him around the yacht, he met people whose names and faces he would never remember.
"So, you're the boyfriend," said one middle-aged woman who was dressed in clothes designed for a teenager. "We've heard so much about you."
"I understand you're quite the athlete," her husband added. "Are you thinking of going pro?"
"It's always been a dream of mine, but no scouts have ever come to watch me play."
"I handled a divorce for one of the Phillies' coaches. Thanks to me, he got off cheap when it came to alimony. I can run your name by him if you'd like."
"But you hardly know me. Why would you go through all that trouble?"
"Nonsense. It's no trouble. It's just a phone call. Besides, Piper is my niece. I'd do anything for her."
"You'll have to excuse us now, Uncle Harley," the birthday girl said, tugging her boyfriend's arm. "I haven't had anything to eat all day, and I'm absolutely famished!"
"This is some spread!" James commented when he saw the variety of dishes at the buffet. "Everything from caviar to lobster."
Although he would have preferred a few slices of pepperoni pizza, he filled a plate with bourbon-bacon barbecued chicken, marinated heirloom tomatoes and salami Caprese potato salad.
"Is that all you're eating?" Piper asked.
"I want to save room for your birthday cake."
"Good idea! My mother ordered a showstopper from Carlo's Bakery in Hoboken."
When the four-foot-high cake was revealed, there was applause from the celebrants.
I don't see what the big deal is, James thought as people snapped photos with their cell phones. It may be decorated with hundreds of sugar flowers and lots of imitation jewels, but under all the bling, it's still nothing more than a cake.
Once the Cake Boss's confectionery masterpiece was cut and the slices were distributed and eaten, it was time for Piper to open her gifts. She sat on a chair decorated with crepe paper streamers while her mother selected each package and announced who it was from. Only then was the wrapping paper ripped off to reveal an assortment of designer clothing, jewelry, perfume, shoes and handbags.
Everything she doesn't need, James opined, growing bored.
Eventually, Eva Marie picked up a package and informed everyone, "This one is from James, my daughter's boyfriend."
Piper blushed and quickly tore off the ribbon, bow and paper. When she removed the bronze cylinder from the box, her face betrayed her confusion.
"I don't know what it is," she admitted.
"Press the green eye on top."
When she did, the music began to play. Now, it was her boyfriend's turn to look confused. The tune was not "Love Me Tender."
"It's a music box. And it's playing 'Happy Birthday.' How appropriate. Thank you."
The smile on her face was forced. She thought the music box was hideous, and had it not been a gift from James she would have consigned it to the trash when the party was over.
* * *
Spending the summer in the Hamptons, Piper did not get to see James as often as she would have liked. Once school resumed in September, she returned to New Jersey, where, unfortunately, sports took up much of his time. First, there was football season, then basketball, followed by baseball. At least there were several breaks during the school year, the first of which came in December.
Since her parents divorced, Piper spent alternating holidays with either her mother or father. Last year, it had been Thanksgiving with Dad and Christmas with Mom. This year, it was Thanksgiving in New Jersey and Christmas in Key West.
"I wish I could stay here with you," she confided in her mother as she took several wrapped presents down from the top of her bedroom closet.
"What you really mean is that you wish you could spend Christmas with James," Eva Maria quipped.
Piper did not deny her mother's claim.
"I don't see why I have to bounce around from house to house like a pinball."
"We have to adhere to the terms of the custody agreement," Eva Marie insisted, idly picking up the music box her daughter had received on her birthday. "I can't believe you kept this thing. It's so ugly!"
"I know, but James gave it to me, and that makes it special."
When her mother pressed the eye in the center, the green glass glowed, and a festive melody, "We Wish You a Merry Christmas," began to play.
"That's odd," Eva Marie mumbled. "I could have sworn it played 'Happy Birthday.'"
"It did. I guess it's not a typical music box. Maybe it's got a computer chip inside it."
"Computer chip or not, it's still hideous."
Because they would not be together on Christmas, mother and daughter exchanged their gifts before Piper left for the airport.
"I guess I'd better get going," the teenager groaned and put her father's present in a shopping bag. "I don't want to miss my flight."
"Here," her mother said, slipping the music box into the bag. "Take this with you so you'll have something to remember James by."
"Like I could ever forget him!"
While in Florida, Piper did everything that was expected of her. She went to the beach, got a tan and occasionally took a dip in the ocean. Despite the Christmas tree seeming out of place in the heat of Key West, she, her father and his latest girlfriend celebrated the holiday in the traditional manner that included a family feast and a mountain of presents.
"I'm never gonna be able to take all this stuff back on the plane," she cried as she unwrapped her gifts.
"That's okay. I'll have the whole lot shipped up north after you leave."
In between the time she spent with her father and the daily updates to her mother, she was usually on the phone with James. There were hundreds of texts and, when he was not working at his part-time job, actual phone calls. Most of their conversations—both verbal and typed—were banal. Frankly, Piper did not care if he had a busy day at the hardware store, if the weather forecast called for snow, if his old Chevy needed an oil change or what movie he watched on HBO the previous night. She simply wanted to hear the sound of his voice. He could have recited the Gettysburg Address, and she would have listened with rapt attention.
Piper woke on the morning of December 31 with mixed emotions. On one hand, she was delighted that she would be leaving for Newark Airport early on January 2, but on the other, she was saddened at not being able to spend New Year's Eve with the man she loved.
If only I could kiss James at the stroke of midnight! she wished as her eyes fell on the music box.
She picked the bronze cylinder up from her dresser and casually examined it. When she first saw it, like her mother, she found it hideous. Oddly enough, it was beginning to grow on her and offer her a modicum of comfort when she needed it most. She pressed the green glass eye, not knowing what tune to expect. This time, it was "Auld Lang Syne." It was not a big surprise considering how that song has long been associated with the celebration of the New Year.
Piper did not wonder how a music box knew Christmastime from New Year's. If modern science could put a man on the moon or connect the world via the internet, then programming a music box to play specific songs on certain holidays was not an amazing feat. Nevertheless, one question did occur to her. How did the music box know her birth date? There were three hundred and sixty-five days to choose from—three sixty-six in a leap year.
When she spoke to James on the phone later that evening, the subject was at the back of her mind.
"Oh, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," she began after he told her about visiting his grandparents in the Poconos.
"What?"
"When you bought that music box for me, did you somehow tell it the date of my birthday?"
"No," he answered, amused by the question. "I don't normally hold conversations with music boxes."
"How did it know to play 'Happy Birthday' then? You said it played a different song when you bought it."
James considered the matter before answering.
"The guy who I bought it from, a sloppily dressed man who introduced himself as Omar Applebee, must have programmed it somehow. You see, I told him I was looking to buy my girlfriend a birthday present."
"And you told him what day my birthday was?"
"No, but he must have assumed I would go home and wrap it, and no one would press the eye until you opened it at your party."
It was a reasonable theory, and they both accepted it as an explanation.
Subsequently, Piper no longer found it peculiar when the music box continued to play songs that were suitable for a specific occasion. On February 14, it played "My Funny Valentine." On March 17, it was "When Irish Eyes are Smiling." And on Easter Sunday, it was "In Your Easter Bonnet."
* * *
Spring was a season often associated with blooming flowers, warmer temperatures and the last weeks of the school year. This spring brought with it the senior prom and graduation. It also meant that soon Piper and James would be going off to college. She would attend her father's alma mater, NYU, and he would go to William Paterson University in New Jersey. While these schools were approximately twenty-five miles and roughly forty-five minutes apart (not taking into account the heavy traffic around the Lincoln Tunnel), the two students would not get to spend much time together, except for an occasional weekend or during breaks.
"I'll miss not seeing you in school every day," Piper whimpered as she picked him up one morning in her Mercedes.
"It'll only be for four years."
Four years seemed like a lifetime to her.
"After we graduate," he continued, "maybe we could get a place together."
Piper's heart leaped at his suggestion. It was the first time he had ever hinted at a commitment.
Meanwhile, the music box continued to play different songs on different occasions. On the night of the prom, it played "Dancing Queen." On graduation day, it was "Pomp and Circumstance." The busy student no longer questioned how a mechanical device, even one with a computer chip, knew the date of her prom or when she graduated from high school. She simply accepted it as fact. It was only before the start of her freshman year at NYU that those old questions began to haunt her.
Once classes began in late August, Piper switched her primary residence to her father's Manhattan loft and spent weekends in New Jersey. The music box moved with her across the Hudson and was placed on the table beside her bed. One morning, in mid-September, after sleeping late because she had no morning class scheduled, she reached her arm over and pressed the green eye with her fingertip.
What song will it be today? It's not a holiday or any special occasion.
The glass eye glowed a neon green as the melody of "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" sounded. It was a strange song to play since she was not a baseball fan. She always felt the game was too long and boring. She was about to press the eye a second time, hoping for a different tune but was interrupted by her cell phone’s ringtone.
"Guess what?" James cried excitedly when she answered.
"It's too early for guessing games."
"A scout for the Phillies came here to see me play. He wants me to go to Philadelphia for a tryout. Your Uncle Harley must have spoken to that coach."
Piper's eyes immediately went to the music box.
"It knew," she muttered, unaware she had put her thought into words.
"Who knew what?"
"Nothing. The Phillies! That's great!"
"I don't want to get my hopes up because it is just a tryout."
"This is when I'm supposed to say I have faith in you, but I don't need to rely on faith. I know what a good athlete you are. I'm confident they're going to want to sign you."
"They're not the Yankees, but it would be nice. Anyway, I've got to get to class now, but I wanted to give you the good news right away."
"Call me later. I love you."
"Love you, too. Bye."
After ending the call, Piper picked up the music box. The green eye no longer glowed. It was as though it were sleeping or waiting to be summoned again.
"How did you know?"
It was a rhetorical question since the device was incapable of speech. Nonetheless, she asked another.
"And what else do you know?"
* * *
In addition to the traditional tunes played during holidays, the music box continued to astonish Piper with prophetic songs. It played Mendelssohn's "Wedding March" the day James proposed and "Here Comes the Bride" when they were married. A year later, even before the doctor confirmed her pregnancy, the music box did so by playing "Rock-a-bye Baby."
While still a student in college, Piper came to believe in the ability of the green-eyed music box to foretell the future. Albeit, like any true psychic, there were times when it could not foresee anything of major import. In her sophomore year, there was a day when she pressed the green eye and no song played.
The battery must be dead, she assumed but found no way of opening a door to a battery compartment.
Later that week, it worked as before. There was no decrease in either speed or volume of the song to indicate the batteries were wearing down. Following that first instance of failure, there were many days when the "all-seeing eye" (as she came to think of it) was silent.
I suppose no news is good news.
Piper did not dwell on those musical prophecies, or lack thereof, as the case may be. Not only was her delivery date just weeks away, but she was also in the process of organizing her new house in Bucks County, north of Philadelphia—far enough away from the congested city yet close enough that her husband could drive to Citizens Bank Park, where the Phillies played their home games.
Her due date came and went, yet the baby did not make an appearance. There was no cause for alarm; the date the obstetrician gave her was only an estimate, and first babies were often born late. But for the following week and a half, the expectant mother woke each morning and pressed the all-seeing eye on the night table before getting out of bed. Then one morning, it glowed green and began to play "Wiegenlied," better known in English as Brahms's Lullaby. Piper knew the day had arrived. An hour later, she experienced her first contraction, and shortly before midnight, she gave birth.
After the couple's son, James, Jr., affectionately called Jamie, was born, the music box was frequently silent. Weeks would go by during which time Piper was kept busy caring for a newborn and never pressed the green eye. On those increasingly rare occasions when she did, no music played. Eventually, the burnished bronze cylinder was moved from the bedside table to the top of a bookshelf in the den, replaced by a framed photo of the baby.
On the day little Jamie celebrated his third birthday, all four grandparents (as well as two step-grandparents) descended upon the Hallecks' Pennsylvania home for a party. Eva Marie, who had gone into the den to check her email on her daughter's computer, came out with the music box in hand.
"I can't believe you still have this ugly thing."
"I'll never get rid of it. It was the first gift James ever gave me. But I don't think it works anymore."
Eva Marie pressed the green eye, which began to glow. Moments later, it played the eponymous theme song from Martin Scorsese's movie New York, New York.
"I wonder who programmed this thing's playlist," Eva Marie laughed.
Something is about to happen, her daughter predicted. Something involving New York City. Please, God, don't let it be another terrorist attack!
Thankfully, the news was far from bad. In fact, it was great. It was the answer to her husband's boyhood dreams. The Phillies had traded him to the New York Yankees.
Instead of living in Manhattan or the Bronx, the Hallecks purchased a home in New Jersey, close to both their son's paternal and maternal grandmothers, who would be relied upon for babysitting duty. Naturally, the music box made the move from Pennsylvania, too, even though it rarely played anymore.
"Why don't we get rid of this?" James suggested when the couple was deciding what items to take with them to the Garden State.
"No way!"
"It's just a cheap trinket I picked up at a flea market. The vendor sold it for fifteen bucks, but it was probably worth a lot less," he said, recalling that Omar Applebee had told him to name a price when he bought it.
I bet if I offered five bucks, he would have taken it.
"I don't care how much it cost. It's mine, and I want to keep it."
In the decade that followed, the music box remained on a shelf in the family room, collecting dust—figuratively speaking, since the Hallecks' maid did an excellent job keeping the place clean. It was only when the Yankees made it into the American League playoffs that Piper "consulted" it.
"I know you know what will happen," she whispered, her hand momentarily hovering over the green eye. "Will the Yankees win?"
The green glass glowed, and the music box played "We Are the Champions."
The all-seeing eye never fails, she concluded with a smile, when the Bronx Bombers went on to win both the pennant and the World Series.
* * *
When James Halleck retired from baseball, the New York Yankees had a celebration to commemorate the event. It was held at Yankee Stadium before the start of the last game of the season (they did not make it to the playoffs that year). In appreciation for his contributions to the club's enduring legacy as the winningest team in baseball, the owner gave him a new car.
"I'd rather have my number retired," he confessed to his wife when they returned home later that day. "It would mean a lot more to me."
"If it's any consolation, I've heard you're a shoo-in for the Hall of Fame."
"I'll settle for that. Besides, our son is going to be seventeen. He could use a car. I think I'll let him try it out."
As she watched father and son pull out of the driveway, with Jamie behind the wheel, Piper remembered the car her father had bought her for her sixteenth birthday. In her opinion, a vehicle by Audi (one of the team's sponsors) could not compare to a Mercedes, but she was sure her son would appreciate anything on four wheels. Memories of her sixteenth birthday led to those of her seventeenth. The yacht, once her father's pride and joy, was a thing of the past. Barton Wythe and his fourth wife were living year-round in Key West and traveled by plane when he visited his daughter and grandson.
I miss that old boat, she mused, recalling the night of her party.
In a sentimental moment, she went into the family room and took the music box down from the shelf.
"Do you have anything to tell me today?" she wondered as she pressed the green eye.
The familiar glow was followed by a recognizable tune. Piper dropped the bronze cylinder onto the floor when she heard it and ran to the living room for her cell phone.
"Pick up!" she sobbed as she heard her husband's phone ringing.
"Hello," he said.
"Please don't ask any questions. Just come home right away."
"Why?"
"No questions. Just get here. And drive safely."
Whether or not James heard the last request, Piper would never know. At that moment, the Audi collided head-on with an eighteen-wheeler.
* * *
Losing one of the men in her life would have been heartbreaking enough, but losing both of them was unendurable. In the weeks following the death of James Halleck Sr. and Jr., Piper's parents hovered around their daughter, fearful that she would take her own life. Somehow, somewhere, from some hidden well of strength deep inside her, she found the will to go.
"I can't stay in this house," she announced once her husband and son were cremated. "It would be a constant reminder of what I've lost."
"You can move in with me," Eva Marie offered.
"Or come down to Florida. I'll buy you a place on Key West if you'd like," Barton said.
"Thanks, but I've decided to rent a house on Nantucket for the time being. James and I used to talk about getting a summer place there, but we never got around to doing it."
After the Hallecks' New Jersey home was put on the market, Piper and her mother began the unenviable task of packing up the family's belongings. Nearly all of the furnishings and most of the clothes were earmarked for donation to various charities. The only things she wanted to keep were of a personal nature: photographs, souvenirs and cherished mementos. As she cleaned out the family room, she packed her husband's baseball trophies and her son's school awards with care, fighting back her tears as she did so.
"Don't forget this," her mother said, taking the music box down from the shelf.
"You can get rid of that. I don't want it anymore."
Eva Marie was stunned. Ever since her seventeenth birthday, her daughter had insisted on keeping it because of its connection to James.
"Are you sure? You might feel differently one day and regret not holding on to it."
"You were right all along. That thing is hideous, and I never want to see it again."
The green eye glowed for the final time, and although no one had activated it, the music box played an encore of the song it had last played: Chopin's "Funeral March." Piper did not wonder whose funeral the all-seeing eye now foretold.
Send not to know for whom the bell tolls, she recited the lines from John Donne's poem in her mind. It tolls for thee.
Surprisingly, the prospect of her own approaching death neither frightened nor saddened her.
When I wind up this music box, no prophetic melodies play. All I hear is a cat meowing to be fed.
