Spoils

A Creative Writing Flash Fiction by Amy Kim

We drove deeper and deeper into the countryside, until not a single building was in sight. My mother turned toward me, her smile the brightest I’ve ever seen in these years. “We’re home, Ian.”

I spent 14 years, my whole life, watching her pouring tears over a man I never even met before. I thought the reason why we were moving here was simply her nostalgia or homesickness on that man. Never would have imagined that it was her harvest instead.

 

Within an hour, boredom struck me like a fever. The sun shone on me, embraced me. It didn’t do anything to counteract the eerie feeling of silence in the countryside

“Ghost!”

The voice broke through the silence. I spun around, spotting tiny shadows beyond the rusty old fence around the house. “Hey! Who’s there?” I shouted. There were no responses, except for some giggles. My feet started moving before my mind could tell them to stop. It was a mix of annoyance and pure boredom. My chased the noise, rushing over the fence. Bushes splintered under my palms, and a wall of overgrown briars crashed into me, drawing lines all over my arms.

Before I knew it, the sound of kids giggling faded away, surrounding me into a clearing, panting, dizzy, staggering for breath, the world turning around for just a moment. That is when I found him looking at me. He stood there, in the middle of the lifeless grass, a head taller than me. His eyes were cold as if the highest radiation of sunlight here didn’t seem to warm him. “You really look just like him,” he said calmly. “Except that you don’t have his eyes. He was always eager in search of something new to burn.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded, my heart hammering against my ribs still surprised from how he came out of nowhere.

“The insurance fraud, Ian. The fire.” He started closing the distance between us, and stepped into my space. “Look, Look around, Ian. Everything’s so lush and green now isn’t it? Covered in grass and trees, like nothing ever happened,” he said with a slightly rougher tone. “But a few years back? This entire place was an ocean of fire that swallowed everything. Your father lit the fire on his building. He wanted the payout, but the wind changed. And guess what. He also died in the fire he created with other innocent people like my parents.”

“You’re lying!” I shoved him, but didn’t move as if I was hitting a tree trunk.

“Ask your mother why she waited for 14 years in the city. She wasn't mourning. She was waiting for the heat to cool down.” A cold sweat broke out from my body. It was all blank inside my head but only a wave of nausea. I felt ashamed… or maybe guilty. I did not dare cry, rushing back the way I came without looking back.

 

I could barely stand from my legs shaking. I didn’t even bother knocking but charged into the house. The kitchen was in a wreck. My mother had dragged the hefty oak table across the floor, the screech of wood against another wood still in the air. She was on her knees, clawing at a floorboard with a crowbar. There were no tears but with a shimmering sweat instead.

“Mom…? What are you doing?” She didn’t answer but continued scratching out the floor with her bleeding finger tips. “Mom, stop! You’re bleeding…” The floor board finally snapped upward with a violent sound. She didn’t look at me. She only reached inside the dark cavity to pull out the large metal box. She fumbled with unlatching the box, breathing in jagged hitches, until she heard the click.

Inside were piles of plastic-wrapped cash.

“Is it true?” I whispered, choking on my words. “He really burned the whole village just for this?” She looked up, her eyes turning to look at me, and she smiled. The brightest smile, glowing even more brightly than ever. She bared teeth, rubbing her blood stained fingers against the cash. “He was a fool, Ian,” she said, her voice far away from any grief. “He stayed in the fire for these papers. I stayed in the city in silence for these papers.” She stood up, clutching the box to her chest like a newborn child of hers. “He paid for our life with his body. Don’t let this investment of his go to waste.”