Temptation of the flames

Now, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling late the next Tuesday night, he couldn't sleep. Tom was extremely terrified. His life was at risk, and what for?

He did always put up a show for his family and also acted like an adult in front of Lorena in order to exclude himself from her taunts, but he knew he did it more for himself than anyone else. He didn't want to accept the horror of what he experienced; he didn't want to accept the potential for worse things to come. But the fear crashed down on him after dinner, and he'd never felt so hopeless.

He sat up from his bed, sighed, and took the letter and clues from his desk drawer, staring at them for a long time. As he did, he felt the last ounce of bravery drain from his spirit.

Quietly, he emerged from his room and took the letters downstairs to the living room.

It was the only room in the house with a fireplace.

                                                ~

A few minutes later, the gas log fire had heated the entire room, its blower wafting warm and comforting air across Tom's face as he sat directly in front of it, staring at the licking flames. The rest of his family had long since fallen asleep, and he prayed for his dad's timely alarm to not wake him at that moment. This was Tom's moment of truth, and he needed to be alone.

He gripped the first letter tightly in his right hand, clenching a fist around the wrinkled plain paper. He didn't know how it worked, but he trusted the instructions given to him by the mystery person, M.S. If he ever wanted it to stop, he could just burn the letter, and everything would "cease and stop." Tom had no doubt it was true, just as he had no doubt that Evil Gnomes, Death Sleep, and a square talking robot named Silver Head really and truly existed.

Burn the letter.

The thought had crossed his mind a thousand times since he'd first come to consciousness after the brutal gnome attack. He wanted to quit. There were only two clues in—ten to go.

 Desperately wanted to quit. How could he keep going when things worse than evil gnomes might attack him? How could he, Thomas Noland, a kid with a pretty decent brain but the body of a fifteen-year-old, fight the forces that some unknown enemy threw at him? How could he do it?

He sat up, crossing his legs under him, facing the fire. He thought about that tremendous ease of simply throwing the letter into the fire that was not two feet in front of him, of watching it crinkle and shrivel into a crispy ball of black flakes, of returning to normal. He could do it and be done forever.

And then it hit him: a strange sensation that began deep within his stomach and swelled into his chest, spreading through his fingers and toes.

The first letter said many lives were at stake, whether ten or ten thousand, Tom didn't know. Neither did he have any idea how twelve clues, written to him in cryptic messages from some stranger, had anything to do with saving people's lives. But could he really risk that? Could Tom be a coward and throw this challenge into the flames when so much might be on line? When so many people's lives were on line?

Even if it were just one person?

What if the person was Lorena and her life was in the hands of someone else? Even though he hated her for always mocking him, he wouldn't let her be hurt. He loved her despite everything she was doing. The thought gripped Tom's heart and squeezed it hard. He pictured Lorena's annoying face, her cute smile whenever they cracked jokes on the dining table, and her long and slim hands playing off tune on the piano keys, blaming the keys that they weren't good. Tom's eyes were rimmed with tears. The thought of anything bad happening to his sister made him feel a sadness that was heavy and bleak.

At that moment, in the darkness of the deepest night, sitting in the warmth of a flickering fire and thinking about things far beyond what any kid should have to contemplate, Tom made his decision, committing to himself that he would never waver from it, no matter what.

At that moment, he answered the question posed to him by the person known as M.S.

Will you have the courage to choose the difficult path?

"Yes," Tom whispered to the flames. "The answer is yes."

He folded up the letter and turned his back on the fire.

                                           ~

In a place very far from the planet of Thomas Noland, Professor Atticus awoke with a start. He wasn't sure exactly what had jolted him from sleep, but it didn't make him very happy. He rather liked the act of blissful slumber and believed strongly in the old adage about beauty sleep. He knew if Silver Head and Machina were around, they'd advise him to get enough sleep in order to gain an ounce of beauty.

He looked down at his toes, tucked into white neat socks. He'd pulled his blanket up too far, exposing his feet, and wondered if the chill of the night had awakened him.

No, he thought, something must have awoken him. Something shook me.

And then he shot up into a sitting position, any remnant of sleep completely squashed. He threw the covers off, stepped down from his bed, got into a floating hologram skateboard, and shuffled to the next room where all kinds of beeping computers and technological holograms were hanging from the large desk, blinking and clinking. A large hologram screen took up the entire center of the desk. Several hundred names were listed in alphabetical order, their letters glowing green, with a variety of symbols and colors to the right of each name.

One of the names had a flashing purple checkmark next to it, which made Professor Atticus gasp and sit down in his specially-ordered, adjustable hologram chair. He spun around with happiness. And then he laughed. He laughed loud and long and hard, his heart bursting with pride and joy.

After so many disappointments, someone had finally made a choice, one so powerful it had shaken the very foundation of the command center.

The ramifications could be enormous, he thought, giddy and still chuckling.

And then, to his utter and complete astonishment, defying every sense of rational thought in his bones, two purple checkmarks appeared on the screen, almost at the same time.

three? So close together? Impossible!