Page 3 of Promise and Punishment

“Well, I’m going to pay you to light my cigarette for me,” she gestured with her chin. “You can do that, right?”

“I could figure it out,” I said half-confidently.

She puckered her lips. “Then strike it. And hold it for me until I’m done.”

I looked away and back at the matches, flipping open the thin white lip of its cover. The matches inside were smaller than I expected, their stems almost papery with a white tip. I grabbed one, peeling it off from the rest. Mrs. Harrison leaned forward as I placed the tip near the striker, swiping it once. The match nearly bent in half, it felt so flimsily. I tried again, this time, sandwiching the match between the striker and the front cover. I pulled it through, igniting a small blue flame that lit the space between our faces.

“Good job, sweetie,” she bent closer, meeting the tip of her cigarette to the match. “Now hold still.”

She took a few drags, the flame in my hand contouring the swollen, red puffs under her eyes. If I had to guess, I’d assume she’d been crying, not only from the way she looked, but from how the energy itself was built into the walls around me. Just like how her smoke filled the air, so did something else. I felt it as soon as I entered, as if the static from the T.V. floated across the room and raised the hair along my arms. This home was scary, and I didn’t like it.

The flame on the match inched closer to my finger, its heat drawing nearer to my skin. I wanted to shake it away, but did as I was told, keeping it in place until it reached the tip of my thumb.

“Shit!” I finally pulled away, dropping the match in the process. Immediately, I pulled my thumb into my mouth, sucking it.

Mrs. Harrison said nothing; she simply scooped up the match and dropped it into the jelly jar.

“You hurt?” she finally asked, resting her elbow on the back of the sofa.

I knitted my brows. “I think I’m ok…”

“Good. Now why are you really here?” She took a long moment to look at me, then down towards Andy.

“Gemma forgot this.” I lifted Andy while my thumb continued to throb. I tried to hide the pain, not wanting to worry her, but even if I showed it, I wasn’t sure if she’d even react.

“This ol’ thing?”

“It’s her favorite,” I pulled him back to my chest.

“Oh, I know it is. I know all about how you won it for her. How you spent hours and hours at the county fair. You’re not wrong, poor girl can’t sleep without it.”

“Yes,” I laughed nervously, fighting the smoke that entered my nose.

“You did all that for her. Isn’t that right, Parker?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you’re here now, delivering papers to buy Gemma a gift?”

I nodded again, “I want to do something special.”

“And you can.” She kneaded her chest, nervously twisting her robe. “You can do something for her that she’ll never forget.” My ears perked at the idea as I looked back up.

“Really?”

“Of course… but it’s really serious, and I don’t know how serious you can be.”

“I can be serious. I’m almost thirteen.” I said, flaunting some desperate credential.

Mrs. Harrison looked disgusted. “Almost thirteen? You say that as if you’ll be someone different than who you are now, and that’s not what Gemma needs.”

“And who would that be?”

“Everything you already are, and nothing more,” she said breathlessly, exhausted from an idea that caused her hand to rest on my knee. “You’re a sweet boy, Parker Jones,” she stammered, her eyes more feverish and red.

“I try my best.”

“No. You are, and that’s why I adore you, that’s why I trust you… for now anyway.” The ash grew longer on the tip of her cigarette, hoisted like a dirty stick of incense that filled the room. “Do you like Gemma?”

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