Arson Read Free Page A

and inviting curves. Kay soon learned that the key to a man’s heart rested not in his desire for good cooking, like her mother used to tell her, but through his eyes.
    Men wanted beautiful women, and youthful beauty, for her, had been easy to lend. From early on, Kay had watched men’s expressions melt when she walked into a room. She took their kisses and gifts as quickly as they came, but it was never enough. Deep down, she wanted romance. Marriage and children. After years of empty interests, her wish had come true.
    The year was 1969, and Kay was not yet twenty-four. The world was full, free, and reveling. The war and rebellions seemed mere trifles when compared to lonely hearts. It was easy to get lost in a city, transported by its bright lights and sounds. Cambridge was a city that lit up at night, the way she lit up the second Henry Parker stumbled into a downtown pub, looking for a drink to calm an unsettled mind.
    A radiant red dress hung off her silky shoulders. Kay’s eyes were sparkling jewels. She was exquisite, even in memory. The man she’d come to call  darling  stood yards away when their eyes met for the first time. Slowly, he walked toward her and spoke. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said. “I’m Henry. Where have you been all my life?”
    A pathetic first line, but she could tell he was trying. Kay had known men before, talked and danced with them, but this stranger’s boyish smile showed a calm unlike anything she had ever seen. She had believed herself to be unattainable—incorruptible—until that night. Fluttered heartbeats soon led to long walks and midnight dancing. In time, she fell in love. Kay knew that Henry Parker held the key to the future she’d always wanted.
    But in a blink, it was gone. Kay hated the old shell she now wore, the one that wrapped around her like a coffin. Wrinkles and sagging flesh now corrupted her once flawless cheeks and inviting shape. She was unfit for romance. There was no room for beauty. Passion had fled, and the distant sound of youth called out to her from within the mirror.  You’re old, Kay , it taunted.  You’re old . She began to cry as the young woman continued the ridicule.  A real woman is beautiful. A real woman knows how to love. You’re not a real woman, Kay, not anymore .
    â€œLeave me alone!” Kay screamed back, reaching for a pair of shears and placing them to her stomach. “Get out, or I’ll cut you out!”
    Henry wouldn’t allow it , her reflection answered.  Deep down, he still wants me .
    Kay’s tired eyes lingered as she watched young Kay lie upon the bed, gently sliding into Henry’s arms. Her Henry. She watched the image press her lips against his mouth as Kay shouted, “Stop! That’s enough!” Young Kay glared back from the bed within the mirror, as if reaching through time. An unrelenting stare passed through the portals of then and now, with no way to go back or forward.
    Kay fell to her knees, grabbed her face, and wept. She smacked herself twice until blood began to flow. The vindictive critic inside the mirror evaporated. Quietly, Kay got up, slipped her bathrobe on, and shut off the lights.
    With soaked eyes, she crawled into bed. “Goodnight, my darling,” she cried.

 
    Chapter 3
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    HE WAS LOST AGAIN. No matter how hard Arson screamed and fought to get out, he was stuck. Stretched out before him was a picture, moving slowly, of two young boys. He followed them down the street, the hum of the world surrounding them—tall, condemning lights set against a dark heaven, hopeful musicians and city merchants gambling away life’s trifles and gifts, eager to make a quick buck. But no one could see him. No one could hear him.
    The boys exchanged comic books, arguing about whose favorite hero was best and how they sympathized with the villains of the stories—those the world called  monsters