Tremors and Tragedies

The Light of the Lantern

"Please," Mathew pleaded, now on his knees, right in front of his boss, the owner of the small shop in which he worked as just a minor cashier.

"My wife, she's dying. Please, just a little amount of money could help her, save her life!" He desperately tried to pursue his boss.

All he wanted was a small loan. Just some amount of money which he unfortunately did not own. All he wanted was some money, some money that could buy the highly expensive medicines required for her wife, could get her wife treated for the life taking disease she got.

"Look, I understand your problem but I'm sorry to say I don't have that kind of money, now please get up and get out"

Mathew's boss said a bit too harshly.

He had no choice. He got up and went back home. He sat beside his wife, taking her small, weak hand in his. His daughter who was just 8-years-old came running to her parents. Seeing her mother's sever condition she asked her father for the 100th time, "is mother going to die?"

Mathew just stared in the distance, and for the first time he told his daughter the truth, "Yes, Abigail. Yes, she is"

-----•

After a few weeks, the moment he was dreading came. His wife died. That day he hears a knock on the door. That is actually very rare. He gets up, pained to leave his wife's dead body for even a millisecond. He opens the door and is surprised to see his boss. He obviously knows that his wife is dead, the whole town knows it.

"Take this," he says, giving him some amount of money.

"It's for the funeral expenses, and I don't want it back" he smiles. But there's something devilish in his smile.

-----•

The next day, his boss brags around the employees about how he gave money to Mathew for the funeral of his wife. And that he didn't even want the money back.

Mathew feels degraded. He hates his boss. He knows exactly what he's done. He didn't have money to give for the treatments but he did for the funeral. Because once the medicines will be consumed, no one's going to remember that he payed for the treatment expenses. But people will always remember how Mathew's wife is lying in a coffin bought out of his money. And people are always gonna remember him as a kind, giving fellow.

------•

Several weeks have passed since the horrid incident took away Mathew's wife. He's sitting in the attic, smoking, puffing, and looking up at the smoke emitted from his mouth, trying to find patterns in them. Her daughter is sitting right in front of him but he's oblivious to her, to the silent cough he has caused her.

"Don't do that, father," Little Abigail says, innocence laced to her voice.

"Do what?" He asks, finally taking notice the presence of his daughter.

"That thing you're doing with the cigar. I don't like it,"

He realizes she's talking about his smoking. But after the death of his wife, smoking is the only thing keeping him sane.

"If you don't like it, go sit in another room or something" he shoos her away.

She stays silent.

After a while she speaks up, "I can't go in another room, father. It scares me to be alone" her voice comes out more softly than he had imagined it to be.

He notices how after the death of Abigail's mother, Abigail herself is scared of little things, complaining about little things. He also notices how at the end of every conversation she says, 'and father? Will you please bring more oil for the lantern?'