Lessons of Indifference

chapter five

I am lonely. I am sad. I am lost.

Those are three things I know myself to be true.

I am free. I am happy. I am indifferent.

Those are three things I wish I could know to be true.

I am still sitting in my room. My father is still at the beach with his friends. Still waiting for me. It isn't that late. I still have time to go and meet up with him.

I keep telling myself not to go. That is what he wants. I don't want to give him what he wants. I am so afraid that I will let him in just for him to die or leave.

But I am tired of being alone in the house, and finally convince myself to walk to the beach, not for him but for me.

I leave the house dressed in jeans and a hoodie. The chilling air bites at my face as I walk slowly towards the beach. I hear laughter in the air and the smell of campfire smoke fills my lungs. I have never been to a campfire. I have never cooked a s'more or a hotdog over a fire or listened to ghost stories. As I near the beach, I begin to have a better idea of who is there. I see my father, a bottle of beer in his hand, sitting on a wooden bench next to an attractive blonde woman. There are a few more men and women his age, and also a few teenagers. I say a quick prayer that Luke isn't here. My father sees me from afar and stands up to welcome me.

"I'm glad you decided to come!" He says with a smile. I give a weak smile and begin to walk past him, but he stops me. "Why don't you hang out a bit? I want to introduce you to some people." I follow him over to the campfire, where his blonde friend sits. She stands when she sees me. "Faye, this is Heidi," My father says. "My girlfriend." I shake her hand and shrink back a bit. I didn't know my father had a girlfriend.

"It's so nice to meet you," She says. "I've heard a lot about you."

'I can't say the same about you,' is what I want to say, but I can't bring myself to it. Instead, I just nod and smile. "Would you like some soda or marshmallows?" She offers me a bag of white fluffy blobs and gestures to a cooler. "Thank you," I say. I take a marshmallow and a stick from a pile on a bench. Pushing a hole through the marshmallow with the stick, I move closer to the fire and warm my feet. I make a face as the fire flickers and moves with the wind. I wonder how a fire feels. Fire moves with the wind, and is not restricted by anything. Fire spreads with it's own desires and no one else's. Fire is free. I want to be like fire. While I was still dreaming about being fire, I mindlessly poke my stick directly into a flame. Within seconds, the marshmallow is engulfed in flames and begins expanding and turning black. I didn't know that marshmallows were so flamable. Confused, I pull the stick back out and examine the burnt blob. Fire is fierce. I carefully poke the marshmallow with my index finger.

I am so absorbed in the fire's work that I am startled by someone's voice. It's a he. He is young, his voice is smooth. I can't help but turn my head to see who it is. The voice belongs to a handsome, tall boy about my age. The voice was saying "The fire's hot, huh?"

I smile. He has curly, dark brown hair and dimples when he smiles. He turns, takes another marshmallow out of the bag and pushes it on my stick. "May I?" He asks kindly. He stands close to me now. His eyes are a dark hazel color that glow in the firelight. Captivating. I nod. I can't seem to move my eyes from his. For a few moments I stare, afraid to look away but afraid to keep looking. He takes the stick from my hand and turns toward the fire. Carefully, he pushes the stick towards the flame, but moves it under , towards the coals. Slowly, I watch the marshmallow turn from the solid white to a golden brown color. "Wow," I say under my breath. He gently pulls the blob from the stick and hands it to me. A smile curls out of the corner of my mouth.