Schism

Chapter 18 part 1

Chapter 18

The knock on the door jolted Harold out of his focus.  The soldering iron in his hand nearly skipped onto the small packet of light brown jelly that sat on his work bench, next to a stuffed giraffe.  He jerked his hand away and the hot tip curled the toy's polyester hair.  Harold savored the odor as he stared at the door.

No one knocked on Harold's door, not ever.

He quickly pulled the newly soldered trigger away from the fuel, grabbed the stuffed animal and shoved it into a large bin under the desk. 

The knock was heavier now.  Harold hurriedly settled the lid onto the bin and pushed a chair up against the desk to hide it more.  "Who is it?"

"It's me," a man's voice said.  Harold recognized Jared.  He wouldn't have to hide the trigger or the homemade napalm.

"And me."  The woman's voice was softer, more eager.  Nadine's voice.  Harold wondered why Jared had to bring her.  He pulled the security bar from under the knob, opened the deadbolt and started to swing the door open.  From the other side, Jared pushed an arm out and finished the job.  He walked into the room without a word from Harold, Nadine on his heels.

Harold glanced quickly at her.  Her legs were bare this time, in a short skirt, not a dress.  Her arms were bare and the front of her shirt was low, but not very low.  He was supposed to pay attention to Nadine's body, knew that Jared expected it, that Jared used her as bait to keep Harold working for him.  And she was worth looking at, worth thinking about when she was gone, but Harold didn't really want her.  Not the way he wanted Jess, or had wanted others in the past.

"Harold, how are you?"  Jared reached out, took Harold's hand and shook it.  His grip was tighter than Harold liked. 

Nadine slid in close and set a kiss down on his cheek.  "I missed you," she said.  Her body pressed against his, breasts against his shoulder and chest.  How could Jared think he'd want a woman like this? 

But he knew better than to let Jared know that he didn't want Nadine, or any woman like her.  He tried not to edge away from her as Jared circled Harold's basement room.  There was something about Jared that made him nervous, something that told him he should keep secrets from this man.

Harold felt his nerves begin to tighten up, as they usually did when Jared was near.  When this man was around, he felt smaller, less important.  Even though Harold knew he could do things that the other man could never do, that no one else could, he felt that didn't matter in this man's presence.  Admitting this fear, showing it to Jared would only make it worse.  He focused on his answer to Nadine, kept it simple.  "Fine."

"Nadine missed you.  We wanted to come down and see how you were."  Jared pulled the chair out from the bench and Harold tried to keep his eyes from the plastic bin with the giraffe.  He looked instead at the igniter and fuel on his workbench.

He swallowed as Nadine ran her knuckles down the side of his neck.  "Thank you for...coming."

"That's what friends do, Harold.  I would have brought cookies, but Nadine's sweet enough for both of us, isn't she?"

Nadine's laugh would have made him cringe away, but Harold saw Jared lick his index finger and touch it to the nose of the soldering iron.  The man's eyebrows inched up.  "We caught you working?"  As Harold tried to steady himself enough to answer without faltering, Jared pulled a pile of money from his front pocket.  "That's a good thing, Harold.  Because if you've been working, then I can give you more money.  We help each other.  That's what friends do, right?"

Harold knew they weren't his friends.  He made things for Jared because of the money, which helped Harold buy supplies to make bigger and stronger fires, though none of those that he made and gave to Jared were as strong as the real thing, the fire that was always waiting.  He pulled away from Nadine and knelt by his bed.  "I do have some."

He felt Jared watching as he dragged the box out from under the torn quilt that hung over the twin bed.  Inside the box were ten water bottles filled with chunky brown sludge.  A plastic bag peeked out from under each cap, its bottom pushed into the center of the bottle.  He slowly eased one out and held it to Jared.  "Don't shake it."

Jared took the bottle.  "There's no fuse, no wick."

"Iodine."  Harold shrugged and looked away as Nadine sat on the bed next to him.  "Iodine and ammonia...just...just don't shake it."

He watched Jared study the bottle.  "Greek fire."

"Uh...no.  Just regular," Harold said.

"I know, Harold.  I was making an historical allusion.  The old Order of the Sons of Liberty hatched several plans involving Greek fire," Jared said.  "But I'm sure yours will be much more effective."

Harold snuck a glance at Nadine.  She looked more confused than he felt, but she set a hand on his shoulder and began to touch his neck again.  If she hadn't been disgusting, it would have felt good.  Jared had tried to leave her here alone with Harold before.  Having her here with Jared was bad, but it was much worse when he was alone with her.  He'd hurried out of his room and had waited outside for two hours before she left.

Jared frowned and set his eyes on Harold as he handed back the bottle.  "It's still just gasoline based.  I was hoping for something more powerful."

"It's..."  Harold adjusted the box on the floor in order to inch away from Nadine's fingers.  The distraction when she touched him was nearly painful.  "You wanted fires.  These are for fires."

"Yes.  But I need bigger fires, Harold.  I know you can do more.  Bigger than something this bottle could make."

That was it.  That's what Jared wanted.  He had brought Nadine with him to try to trick Harold into starting real fires for him.  Harold wouldn't do that.  Not the real fires.  Those were for him, no one else.

"Harold, do you understand how important this is?  It's not just about protecting our people now."

It took a deep breath before Harold could reply.  "You should go."

Jared simply held up a hand in reply.  "You need to know why this is so important, Harold.  It's not just the constant threat from the other races that we've talked about.  There's one man in particular, who should be one of us, but he's killing our people.  I need to stop him, and I need something more powerful to do it.  Do you understand, Harold?"

"You should go," Harold said again.

He saw Jared's eyes lock and focus on him.  He felt smaller than ever, like he was being studied under a microscope.  "Why should I go, Harold?  What's going on?"