Don't Play with Fire (part 1)

Actions always lead to consequences.

Don’t play with fire, don’t fall too deep, or temptations will seek you.

Yet the innocent child simply beamed at the sight of the embers. Entranced. Piqued by how it gently rolls about. Yellow dancing, before gently, burning the air to a perilous smoke.

Curiosity kills the cat, so they said. But curiosity took over indeed. The boy peeks behind his shoulder to see, the figure of authority intently training her eyes on her craft. Some embroidered quilt.

Safe. This time, he can make it, finally, please, please, please let it be safe! And so, as if satisfying a lifelong dream, his hand wanders closer and closer, the boy feared but overwhelmingly excited, just a bit more-

“William will you stop it?” the loving mother quickly dropped her needlework- and her façade- rushing to yank the curious boy out of danger’s way.

“Aw come on mom I want to touch it!” his eyes smoldering with a pain of longing. Longing to do all the things he know he’s forbidden to do. Like faking a headache to skip choir practice.  Or stuffing his messenger bag with Turkish Delight from the sweets parlour on his way to the seminary. The little things little boys do. Yet, he’s not allowed to play with fire.

“You don’t understand, all of you adults are so boring!”

“No, little boy, you are the one who doesn’t understand. You cannot touch fire, because it will 

burn right through your skin! And since when is it alright to talk back to your parents?”

“Well, nothing I do seems to be alright, isn’t it?” he challenged.

“William, drop this attitude at this instant!”

“Oh come on, Liz don’t be so harsh on the boy,” a voice interrupted from the door.

“Daddy!” the little boy excitedly ran over to hug the burly man who embraced him with open arms. 

Or, to be more accurate, he excitedly ran over to snatch the bag of sweets that the man carried.

“Elliot I don’t get it - our son is a reckless fool! Has he no mind of his own to protect himself?” Liz is exasperated, to her wits’ end on how to handle her darling son, with his fatally daring soul.

“Don’t you know that he stole a stash of sweets from Dewberry’s this morning? And parkoured all the way home? And just now he leaned to the fireplace and almost touched the fire?”

“Reckless? Nah, I think the correct word is brave! Right, little warrior?”

And the boy smiled back, already gorging on the sweets that he has been craving for ever.

“Relax, Liz, it’s just a phase! We were children too, once. Let him learn from experience,” Elliot smiled as he looks proudly to the little boy in his embrace. He then walks over to hang his thick coat and sits on a dainty dining chair, his cheery expression melts away to reveal his agonized state.

 “How is it?” Liz asked, worry creasing her beautiful features as she brought over a kettlepot of tea.

“They are closing in,” Elliot sighed, sipping in the warm liquid, “those pundits accused us of sending spies, such excuses! It’s not like they themselves are playing fair!”

“Such hypocrites!” Liz being equally frustrated.

“It’s happening soon though,” Elliot warns as he knocks the hard wooden table with his cup, ”All this nonsensical finger pointing… it’s too familiar. I can feel it in my blood.”

“How soon?” she asks softly.

“At this rate, a couple of weeks, maybe?” a heavy gulp, rapid blinking of the eye and a most silent, yet exasperated sigh.

“That soon?” Liz retorts, terrified. She always knew that it’s going to happen, sooner or later. She is, also, always in denial that it’s going to happen, sooner or later. Her mind is now swarming with even more worries: What will happen to William? Is this place safe? What if William has to grow up without a father?

“Oh, darling,” Elliot stood up from his chair to hug his weeping wife, “everything’s gonna be fine, don’t you worry about a thing,” he whispers soothingly.

But both of them know that that’s a lie.

“I know,” she smiles.

“I love you,” Elliot broke from the embrace to wipe away her tears.

She smiles and pecks his cheek.

As the night deepens, so do their thoughts. But they dare not mention a word about it to each other. Instead, as if on a silent pact, they enjoy the night like any other, relishing in the warmth of each other’s company. The three of them ate Liz’s homemade spaghetti, played with William’s train set, watched the telly, share funny stories by the fireplace, slept in peace. Little luxuries of a simple life, to be enjoyed before the time comes in which such luxuries would be much harder to come by.

Oh if you think two weeks is too fast, you should think again.

Author's Note

The setting is based on the World War II era. This segment is sort of a prologue, an opening to the main story. I welcome any critique/feedback/suggestions on all aspects of the writing and honestly, I am just thrilled to know what you think :) Thanks for reading!

Reviews

[Jaz]

This was a good read. It felt quiet and peaceful, but tense at the same time, if that makes sense. There were a few times where you switch the tense, so that's something to be careful of. There are a few errors with punctuation as well. Other than that, its a very good story.