His Little House

his yellow light

the pinhole light

was suddenly a beacon

in the dark

she scrambled

through the trunks

and leaves

and tangled growth

up the valley side

Rachel, stop—

but already she was

near the top

already hovering outside

the little window

looking in

It’s empty. Good.

come on

he’s not against you

he doesn’t even care

she tugged hard on

the shed’s door handle

it wasn’t locked

we need to get out of here

she looked inside

at the stacks and stacks

of books on shelves

on the table

on the floor

the pictures pinned

to the walls

all those faces of Jesus

and on the table

little lines of ink on pages

and a stack of white

clean paper not yet pages

a lumpy vase

of pens and pens

she saw it all

everything I saw

but the anger

was hers alone

Look at this.

He’s probably writing

About me.

you’re an idiot

he doesn’t care

you know he’s all right

we need to leave

What are you, his weird little altar boy?

her dark side came quick and quicker

she flicked the lighter

and a tongue of flame

popped high

like a ghost

freed from

his stony tomb

get—out—of—here!

and just like with my dad

my skinny stick arms

jolted alive and I pushed her

out the door

touched pressed grabbed her

roughly this time

What the hell!

I wasn’t going to—

she fell and her hand

her hand

her iron hand

went back

the lighter flame still on

it was so fast

the trees meshed for days overhead

had kept it all so dry

the brittle leaves

were hungry and went up too fast to stop

she screamed

and edged away

I stomped at leaves and leaves

tried to kick them down

but they were alive

full of themselves

kick them away from the house!

but she was useless

crying spinning

looking for something

a broad thick layer

of leaves caught then

drifting lifting

near his little house

I tore my jacket off

and swatted at the flames

they splashed my hands

boiling and freezing them

Help! Help!

she cried out

in a voice so weak

it made me mad

flames scratched at

the shed

the shed boiled alive

like water rolling up

so quick so quick

Rachel, help me stop it!

then he yelled

Father Percy

from the churchyard

and his huffing

running

thumping

across the ground

Oh my Lord!

Oh dear God!

Oh!

Oh no!