The Demon Ember

Mrs. Cole, her dress a blinding white, held the door open for us. "Don't rush!" she told us, but like a river meeting the sea, the front of the line scattered the moment they passed through the doors. Even at the back of the line, the billow of fresh air was enough to sweep my bangs off my forehead. My feet danced in place, ready to run.

Behind me, Connor Fisher cackled like a raven and gave me a light push. I rocked onto my toes to keep from bumping into Silva, my sister, and gave Connor an annoyed glare over my shoulder. Too stupid to have moved up into middle school with everyone else his age, he was half a head taller than me and almost twice as wide. Silva glanced back at me, took in my face, then glanced past me at Connor and gave me small smile. "Just ignore him, Kara." As we moved closer to the doors, she reached back and took my hand. Her charm bracelet, rimmed with tiny, silver crosses, tickled the inside of my wrist.

My head rocked on my spine as Connor gave my braid a stiff yank. I turned, but the hand I wanted to use to shove him with was trapped inside Silva's. Connor grinned. He'd recently lost several teeth, leaving black doors in between the incisors and his front two teeth. "You stop that right now, Connor Fisher!" I said.

"Kara!" We'd reached the front of the line and came to a sudden halt as Mrs. Cole closed the door halfway to stop us. Adam Henderson, just ahead of Silva, bent double and raced underneath Mrs. Cole's arm, but Mrs. Cole either didn't notice or didn't care. She frowned at me, turning my insides sour, and said, "No shouting. It's very rude."

"He pulled my hair, Mrs. Cole," I said, embarrassment a brand around my throat. Silva squeezed my hand, but I'd rather she wasn't there. It didn't feel right to get in trouble with a teacher in front of my little sister.

Mrs. Cole scowled. "And does shouting solve anything? It doesn't. Go out and play and don't make any more trouble." She propped the door open again and Silva tugged me forward, out into the fresh, hot air of a southern summer.

"It's alright, Kara," Silva said as we headed towards the monkey bars, our steps sliding a bit on the wood chips. Her charm bracelet tinkled softly with every swing of our hands. "It wasn't your fault."

I jerked my hand from hers, wishing my face would stop feeling like an August sunburn. If it wasn't my fault, why did I get yelled at? Silva looked back at me, and I clenched my arms across my chest, kicking up a spray of wood chips. "I know," I said.

Across the yard, in the sea of children, I spotted my brother, Lore. He'd managed to sneak his action figures out onto the playground again, and he and Adam were playing with them in the cool shade underneath the stairs to the slide.

Connor Fisher joined them, so big that he couldn't fit into the stairs' shade with the other two boys. He crouched with his arms on his knees, half in sun, half in shadow.

"I don't think she was trying to be mean," Silva said. She held onto one of the supporting beams of the monkey bars with two hands and swung herself around it. "Mrs. Cole, I mean."

I didn't really believe that, but I shrugged for Silva's benefit.

On the other side of the playground, Connor had taken Lore's action figure and was making him chase him for it, drawing Lore out onto the pavement of the basketball court. Silva stopped swinging herself around the beam and stood beside me, watching.

"I don't think he's trying to be mean," Silva said, though she sounded less certain than before.

Lore yelled at Connor's back and Connor turned so quickly, Lore ran smack into his chest like Jack running into a giant. Lore scrabbled for the toy Connor held up out of his reach. The playground stilled and quieted as others paused to watch. Some of the other fifth graders were laughing. Some of the younger kids looked scared. The group of Pastor Jacob's kids huddled under the awning, sweating in their gray sweaters and long pants and skirts, looking like a flock of plump pigeons looking down from on high.