Fireworks

Abraham put his hands on his hips, surveying the trailer’s interior. Everything seemed to be in order. He looked down to where Daffodil stood, just outside the door. He dropped down off the step and kneeled so the two of them were level.

“Now, do you remember where everything is? First aid kit, fire extinguisher..?”

Daffodil nodded, gaze fixed on the ground between them.

“And if you hear someone coming?” He prompted.

“Hide in the trailer and don’t make any noise. Wait until they leave, and for another hour after that.”

Abraham would’ve been happier with several hours, but after multiple trial runs he could only get Daffodil to sit still for forty minutes, tops. He hoped that in the off-chance someone actually poked around, she’d be frightened enough to abide by the hour rule.

He straightened up. “Forage as much as possible. If you have to stray away from the trailer at all, do so only at night. Don’t start any fires; there are extra blankets in the closet if you get cold.”

He paused, mentally casting about for anything he might’ve missed. Daffodil sniffled.

Biting back a sigh, Abraham pinched the bridge of his nose. When he looked down again, Daffodil was staring up at him, wide blue eyes brimming with tears.

“You don’t need to do this. I’m coming back in two days.”

“I know… but… I don’t wanna be alone…”

Abraham could feel the beginnings of a headache pressing at his temples. We can’t do this again, not now.

“You won’t be alone,” he reminded her with as much patience as he could manage. “You have the cat. Gotta take care of her for me, hm? Make sure she behaves?”

Daffodil didn’t smile, using her sleeve to rub tears off her cheek. A few stark red scales had been appearing there over the last few months, and the damp made them shine slightly.

“I just have to go to the mainland for a while. Gotta… set some things up.”

“Why can’t I come?”

“You know why.”

She nodded morosely. Abraham placed a hand on her head, ruffling her hair.

“I’ll be back soon. Two days,” he repeated. “Back before you know it.”

A beat. They both glanced to where the aforementioned cat, Peewee, was sitting just underneath the trailer. Daffodil crouched down and picked her up, cradling the cat close to her face.

“Peewee, say bye…”

“Goodbye, Pee,” Abraham said, patting the feline’s head in an attempt to humor his daughter. Was it just the light, or did Peewee look more pink than gray lately? He’d always had his suspicions about the creature, a wedding gift from his wife... I’ll deal with it when I get back, he told himself.

Setting off down the thin dirt trail that lead to town, Abraham tried not to hear the muffled sobs from behind him.

This trip was the first of many, a half-baked attempt to get Daffodil used to being alone. It never worked. Every time he got ready to go, Daffodil would end up in tears, begging him not to leave her alone.

As the year marched on, inching towards summer, towards the day he’d been planning the last ten years around, Abraham became weighed down with a horrible sense of dread.

The cat seemed to taunt him, confirming his suspicions when she sprouted a pair of gaudy red horns over the spring. As the weather grew warmer, she shed her gray winter coat, revealing soft salmon-pink fur underneath.

Daffodil seemed to sense his tension, and when he packed his bag on a bright July morning, she sat beside him, trying to convince him to stay. Abraham had told her he’d be leaving for longer this time, and not much else. The less she knew, the better, he reasoned.

“What about the fireworks?” She asked, a quiver in her voice.

Abraham hesitated at this. He had planned his departure on the 4th of July, reasoning that the influx of visitors might mask any suspicion he might garner from nosy neighbors. But… he had planned it when Daffodil was only a baby, and it was true that the fireworks were especially hard on her. Those big, sensitive ears…

Maybe I should stay, just for another day.

No. He was doing this. God is testing you, Abraham. Stay strong. Can’t change the plan now.

“You can handle it,” he said. “You’re ten now.” Even as he said it he felt a wave of guilt settle in his stomach.

Ten? Is that really old enough? What was I thinking?

He pushed the thoughts away.

He wasn’t anticipating the amount of traffic that greeted him in town. He felt relieved that he’d correctly judged the influx of tourists. It did mean that the ferries were held up, and he spent several painful hours waiting at the terminal.

When he finally ended up boarding, the sun was setting, vanishing beneath the gray water on the horizon.

As the first firework whistled over the harbor, Abraham fought the bile that rose in his throat.