When the old man came from around the counter, I noticed he had bruises up his arms and on his neck. His eyes were sunken in and he had a tendency to favor his right leg when he walked. It was hard to understand him due to his heavy chinese accent, but he was willing to help us, so I tried to overlook his appearance.
We were on our way home from visiting Natalie’s sister in New York.  I had pulled to the side of the road in front of an old antique store because the car had gotten a flat tire. Natalie was still half asleep, but she came with me to the antique store anyways. I asked the man if we could borrow the store’s phone to call a tow truck. The man smiling went into the room behind the counter and appeared to be searching for something. He came around the counter with a spare tire.
He spoke in broken English. “No tow truck, I have spare tire.” Natalie and I followed him to the car where he started to change the tire. We could do nothing but stare.
When he finished, he eyed Natalie. “I have something for her,” he said in a hurry as he limped back to his store. He returned minutes later with a white, porcelain teapot with a blue pattern on it.
“Take it,” he said, “it has brought me much luck. You need it more than me, a dying old man.”
“Thank you,” she replied, not knowing what else to say.
As soon as we got in the car, Natali dozed off again, this time with the teapot clutched to her chest.
I pulled into the driveway just after midnight. We had gotten home late because of the tire delay. I woke up Natalie, who still managed to hang onto the teapot, and ushered her into the house. We both agreed it was too late to unpack and we would do it in the morning.
For days the teapot’s presence was unsettling to me. It looked out of place in our new kitchen. After Natalie had been promoted, besides visiting her sister in New York, she had insisted on redoing the kitchen. We had gotten all new appliances and were still in the process of paying them off. What heightened my dislike for this teapot was one day the following week when Natalie decided to make our morning tea with it.
When she was finished, she brought the teapot over, along with two cups, to where I sat at the table. I held my cup as she poured.
“OW that’s hot!” I yelled. In my hurry I had forgotten to let my tea cool and had burnt my tongue.
“I’m so sorry Shane! Are you-” was all she could get out because the teapot whistled.
“That’s odd,” I said. “Why did it do that if it wasn’t on the stove?”
We both pondered this in silence as we let our drinks cool. I noticed as I was drinking my tea, something was in my mouth.
“Are you sure you cleaned that thing out?” I asked Natalie. She replied with a “Yes, I’m sure it’s clean.”  I pulled out what appeared to be paper that had gotten stuck to the roof of my mouth.
“Then how did THIS get in my tea?”
Natalie came to stand over me as I unfolded the paper. Neither of us could speak. It was a dollar bill. The clock chimed 7 o’clock, breaking us out of our daze. I got up quickly, giving Natalie a kiss on the check before I ran out the door.
When I got home, I was shocked to find Natalie sitting at the table. Ever since her promotion, she had been getting home late at night. Now it was even later because she was trying to make up for what she missed when we went to New York. She was staring straight ahead, in a daze. She hadn’t heard me come in.
“Natalie, I’m home,” I said. She looked startled at my appearance. She wiped a tear from her eye before replying with a shaky “oh, hi Shane. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“What are you doing home so early?” I asked.
“At work today they announced that they would be letting some people go who failed to meet this pasts months’ goal. Since that was when we were in New York, I didn’t meet the goal. I lost my job today Shane.” She could barely get that last sentence out without choking. I realized that this was not a good idea to mention that I too was in danger of losing my job. It would only make things worse. I went over to comfort her.
“Natalie,” I said, “you are an excellent accountant and a wiz with numbers. You can find a new job with ease. And look on the bright side, now you can catch up on your sleep.” She had started staying even later at work, trying to catch up on lost time.
A few days later, I was awoken by the smell of tea. I went downstairs and was shocked to see Natalie up. She looked different though; more than usual I mean. As if she hadn’t slept all night. She was covered in more bruises too. She was making tea with that dumb porcelain pot again. I went over to the cupboard, grabbed two cups, and went over to the counter to pour the tea.
“Ah! Shane you missed the cup!” she yelled. I opened my mouth to apologize but I couldn’t get anything out because the teapot whistled again and we heard the familiar sound of coins being thrown into a fountain. Still in my hands, was the teapot. It felt a little heavier. I dumped out the tea, and with it came four quarter.
“What the…” was all I could get out before I noticed Natalie walking towards me with a vicious grin on her face. She reached her hand out and slapped me. Soon after, the teapot whistled and she hastily removed the lid, revealing a twenty dollar bill.
“This is our way out, Shane. It’s the opportunity we’ve been waiting for.” Natalie said giddily.
“What are you talking about?” I said.
“You haven’t noticed it yet…” she started. “The pot fills with money every time one of us is in pain.”
“Natalie, I know what you’re thinking and it is not a good idea. Give me the teapot and I’ll throw it away. We can’t live like that!” I was furious. I knew keeping that was a bad idea.
“Have you seen yourself,” I continued, “you are covered in bruises. Let me guess, you got those in exchange for the teapot’s money, huh?”
We continued on for hours to yell back and forth about the teapot. During the argument, we heard the sound of change clanking and the whistling of the teapot. We stopped when the phone rang. It was my boss, who claimed to be “very sorry” about the news. I was late to work, which was a perfect excuse for them to fire me. It was this stupid teapot’s fault. Natalie just had to keep it. That was it for me. I was determined to do anything to get that thing away from her, and out of this house.
We fought like this every day for another week. Every day was the same. I would wake up to find Natalie with more injuries than the day before. Then I’d try to take the teapot away from her. My attempts always proved to be a defeat. As soon as the teapot was away from her, she ran to the kitchen to grab a knife. Sometimes she would cut me with it, but others she would use it on herself.
It was literally killing her. Every night since she had lost her job, she had acquired more cuts and most likely a concussion. I had found the shovel in the garage with what looked like blood stains on it yesterday. When I had asked her about it she refused to answer me. I was so exhausted that I didn’t press her further. I should have.
She had discovered that the teapot’s amount increased with the pain.
“Natalie,” I said for the millionth time this week, “I am begging you, put down the teapot. It is only making it worse. Look at us. We are covered in cuts, and you have a concussion. We are going crazy. This idea is not working. Give me the teapot!”
Screaming, she lunged at me with, knife in hand. She got my leg.
“Why would you do that!?” I screamed. I moved towards her, with less accuracy and more pain than before. She was too fast now. She sliced me again. The knife cut me on my side, just below my rib cage. However, the knife got stuck in me. With a shriek, I pulled it out and darted for Natalie. It amazed me that she still clutched the teapot.
I grabbed her. I sunk the kitchen knife into her chest. I knew doing so would cause her to loosen her grip on the teapot. Natalie fell to the ground. I pried the teapot from her now cold fingers.
It was now early morning; the sun was just starting to come out. Before anyone came outside, I knew I had to get rid of the teapot once and for all. Covered in blood, I hobbled outside to the curb. I put the teapot in the trashcan and turned to go back inside. As I closed the door, I started towards where Natalie now lay. “I didn’t mean to do it…” I thought to myself. I pushed open the curtains. When I looked out towards the street, I was startled at what unfolded before me. I saw a small figure at the edge of the lawn. It appeared to be holding something. The teapot! It was the old chinese man! How could that be? I blinked in disbelief. The old man was staring at me and knew what I was thinking. He grinned at me and held the pot out towards me.
“No, this couldn’t be possible,” I thought. I glanced at Natalie a final time. When I looked out the window, the old man was gone, so was the porcelain teapot.