At precisely eight o’clock that night, the Greek theater in Los Angeles burst into flames.
A fluttering orange glow reflected off Roberts black tuxedo as he stepped onto a long red carpet leading to the entrance of the amphitheater. Fire was to be the theme of that night’s show and Beth had spared no expense on the venue.
Beth had formulated a list of great American landmarks she wished to set ablaze. This was her way of getting back at her eighth grade teacher, Mr. Willis, who failed her in American history. Though Beth was well passed puberty and most of this anger was long since left to simmer in her unconscious, she still harbored destructive feelings toward her country’s historical background.
The lights dimmed. The crowed drew quiet.
‘Ever since I was a child’ Beth said as she came on stage. ‘I had an ability none of my brothers and sisters possessed, the power to breathe flame.’
Beth held out her hand, where a small candle like flame floated gently above her palm. Although Robert knew his sister’s conjured flames were rarely dangerous, he wondered how anyone would notice a real fire, if one were to break out. It’s a good thing she also possesses the power to heal.
‘Not unlike myself, this flame started small.’ She continued. ‘And just like me it grew.’
The venue was suddenly set alight with a fantastic array of flames, which crept up the walls of the stage and cascaded down the aisles to the trees surrounding them. Rows and rows of black pupils shrank. All heads seemed equipped with generic stares of awe, plastered with gaping mouths that shrieked with admiration.
Robert looked at his watch.
When the show ended, the herds began to disperse. A few stray groups scurried to the stage to bask in whatever glow Beth still emitted. This glow was one part holy and one part smug, with a dash of fake humility; a trait her mother had taught her.
Robert remained in his seat and loosened his tie. He was bored, and so to pass the time, he decided to do some mental exercises by branding the different groups of fans huddling in front of the stage. The largest group, he decided, was comprised of giddy school girls, who to Robert seemed less like people and more like an assortment of brightly colored fashion accessories jumping up and down.
Another group was the anarchists. Black clothes, black hair and yet colorful tattoos, this group must have organized their arrival to bask in the ‘almost’ destruction of Beth’s show.
The fans began to disperse. Hordes of giddy, bouncing accessories scurried passed Robert in waves. A moment later, the herd was gone and all that remained was Beth smiling at her brother.
‘I wanted to be mad at you’ she said. ‘But every time I see you I go gooey.’
‘Hello Beth.’ Robert replied with a smile.
‘How did you enjoy the show?’ she sat beside him.
‘It was a little extravagant for my taste.’
‘You think that’s extravagant?’ her eyes lit up with imagination.
‘Wait until next week. We’re literally setting New York on fire. The show itself is in the park, but the entire Brooklyn Bridge will go up in flames.’
‘Sounds big.’
‘It will be. Wanna come?’
‘I can’t. I have things to do.’
‘You have nothing and you know it.’ She pressed.
Every one of Roberts brothers and sisters, as well as his half brothers and sisters, took a different view of their father. One of Roberts’s first memories was of his sister, starved for attention, burning down the kitchen. Since her own flames had not yet acquired the ability to scorch, she used a newspaper and matches. Robert was afraid of how she would react to her father’s return from prison.
‘I do. Adam sent me to pick dad up from prison next week. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with him once he’s out, but…’
Robert noticed a change in Beth’s expression and stopped talking. A silence filled the night air for the first time. The sort of silence one would expect to get morning sickness and suffer mood swings.
Beth’s face turned stone cold. She had replaced the image of her father with apathy, working hard not to feel anything toward him.
‘Ok. Don’t come. See if I care.’
Robert took a moment. It was a rare occasion that his father was mentioned and in those cases the entire family would usually be there to gripe together. Beth was now alone with her thoughts.
Robert began to leave.
‘You know…’ She said reflectively, while he was leaving. ‘Dad was never really home, even before he left us. He was gone most of the time and I would run around acting up. I used to beat up the little brats in kindergarten and mom made Adam come and heal them all. But when dad was there, he had this way about him. He made time stand still. Every time he picked me up and held me in his arms I felt like I was the only person in the world.’
‘I never knew him.’ Robert replied.
‘So maybe it’s a good thing you go pick him up. Maybe you should get a little of what hurts us all so much to remember.’ Her face hardened again ‘But don’t bring him here!’
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