Clean Burn Read Free Page B

me.

CHAPTER 2
     
    James scrunched deeper into the corner of the basement, the cinderblock cool against his back, the thin mattress barely padding his butt against the concrete floor. The candle he held tight in both hands had burned within an inch of the bottom. The heat from the flame wasn’t quite hot enough yet to burn him, but the melted wax was. If he wasn’t quick enough to tip the candle when the wax spilled over, he’d end up with blisters again.
    Like he had the first time Mama had made him hold a lit candle. That had been before he’d learned it was best not to fight Mama, best to let her do exactly what she wanted.
    The day she’d taken him, they’d driven for what seemed like forever until they were far away from the city. After bouncing around on an old dirt road in the middle of nowhere, Daddy had stopped the car and told him they had to walk the rest of the way to the cabin.
    James knew once they left the road, he might never find his way out again. So he’d tried to escape, taking off into the trees, running as hard as he could. Mama had caught him, then hit him so hard, it had knocked him out. He woke up in the basement the next morning. Soon after, Mama brought the candle.
    She’d wrapped his fingers around it and lit it, then sat on the stairs watching him. She never moved, even when the baby cried, even when Sean tried to climb in her lap.
    He remembered everything about that first time – the nasty smell of the basement, the way the window up near the ceiling hardly let in any light. How hot the drops of wax had felt on his fingers. When the candle had burned half-way down, Mama finally blew it out. The wax had only dripped on James’s fingers twice before he figured out how to tip the candle.
    He tried hard to be good so Mama wouldn’t get out the candle again. But it seemed he always needed punishment, because he hadn’t changed the baby’s diaper when she needed it or because Sean wet his pants during the night. Other times, like now, Mama made him do it just to make him stronger, better able to fight the sin. And she let the flame burn lower each time before she blew it out.
    He didn’t know what time it was. Night-time, but not too late, since Mama was still here. The candle’s glow lit enough of the darkness so he could make out the baby in the playpen on the other side of the basement. He thought she was sleeping, but sometimes Lydia would just lie there, her thumb in her mouth, awake and staring at him.
    Mama was on the stairs. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was there. Sometimes, the candlelight caught her eyes as she stared at him.
    The candle was nearly to his fingers. Melting wax dripped down and onto his skin before he could tip it away. Tears filled his eyes from the pain.
    He tried to be quiet, to endure the pain. But the words slipped out. “I want to go home.”
    He held his breath, waiting for Mama’s wrath. But she didn’t speak, didn’t move. Her inaction made him brave. “I won’t tell anyone if you let me go home now.”
    Still no response from Mama. Was she still there? Had she somehow crept up the stairs without him hearing her? The door was noisy, but maybe she’d found a way to open and close it without making a sound.
    “I don’t want to do this anymore!” he called into the darkness. He blew on the flame and it went out. The tip glowed a moment more, smoke drifting from it, then the room went black.
    James had only an instant of joy before the slap of Mama’s feet across the concrete floor sent terror crashing down on him. She grabbed his ankles, yanking him flat on the mattress, his head banging against the cinderblock wall as he went down. Her hand on his chest made it hard to breathe.
    “I’m sorry, Mama. I’m sorry,” he gasped out.
    He thought he’d die right there. Mama’s rage burned him like a white-hot flame.
    But after what seemed like forever, Mama let him go. She fumbled around for something, then the bright flame of Mama’s