The Fire

Always, there has lived a boy. His name is ever-changing and irrelevant to the purpose of this story. He lived in a place that was seldom heard from and rarely seen. It’s not even a certainty that this place ever existed, but similar to Atlantis, rumors become secret beliefs.

Many different people from many different backgrounds dwelled in this place yet they were all strangers. It is unknown whether or not the townspeople were all strangers to each other because of their different walks of life or because this place was so very, very, cold. Nevertheless, living in a town full of strangers aroused a great amount of curiosity in this boy. He wanted to remember why this place was so, so cold. If it were warmer perhaps people would come out of the small areas they lived in separately.

One horribly cold July night he bundled up with all the protection he could find; numerous jackets, thermals, gloves and snow pants, and ventured out of the comfort of his home. Not more than two steps outside, he hurt. Immediately he was reminded of why the town had been so cold for so long. Against the better judgment of his body which was screaming to him of the pain, he pushed on. He planned to somehow warm the place to relieve the townspeople who were unfortunate enough to dwell in this tundra. Maybe if the ice could melt, the hurt outside would go away, allowing this place to be a desirable place to be.

Being that he had started many fires within the confines of his hollow domicile, he figured he should have no setbacks in starting a larger one out in the woods. There he would be able to find enough wood to light up and heat even the darkest and coldest of places. Upon conjuring up the notion, he wandered aimlessly into the woods.

Now the woods in this place were very thick and foggy and certainly not an ideal place to wander aimlessly. Soon he found himself walking in a series of curves and triangles. Near to giving up hope of ever finding a clearing sufficient enough to ignite a bonfire, he heard a muffled cry in the distance. With the fog blinding him and the cold numbing him, all he had to lead him was this cry. Another cry rang out and he raced to where was coming from. It was coming from the heart of the woods.

When he reached the heart of the woods, the fog cleared to reveal a girl. She appeared very frail as she huddled herself by a small, insufficient fire. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to utter a word through his heavy, deliberate breaths, he got her attention with his actions. He quickly built a larger fire then, reluctantly, he bundled her up in all but one of his many coats and brought her closer to the fire he had started. Perhaps his hesitation or disregard of all else but the girl caused what happened next.

While he was bringing her in close, a part of the fire shifted and sparks shot out all around. One spark found its way into a pile of leaves in the wood line nestled beneath a great many trees. As the boy and girl were caught up in trying to keep each other warm, the spark in the leaves began to smolder. Lost in the moment of survival, they grew more and more unaware of their surroundings. The smoldering pile of leaves quickly became a massive wall of flames which began spreading remarkably fast. Soon the entire place was engulfed in flames and hazy smoke.

Awaking from his trance, the boy tried to put out flames anyway possible. With obvious lack of forethought he stupidly utilized his last coat to choke out the flames. As the flames ate his coat they seem to mock him, for they only grew larger. Next he attempted to drown the flames with the water he had brought with him on his journey. Even with the fire roaring the place was still so cold that as he flung the water from his bottle, it turned to ice. The flames devoured it and were pleased but their thirst was never quenched.

This both baffled and impressed the boy. How could a whole place be on fire and still be so cold? This made him curious of the nature of the fire and how it could occur. He moved towards it and reached in. It burned him as he assumed it would. How could a fire burn so hot in a place so cold?

Being without any protection from the hurt of the cold, any water for survival, or any ideas, he had to think fast. He dug with both hands frantically into the depths of the surprisingly soft soil beneath him and used the dirt to begin burying the flames. Many months moved by before the flames were covered, but he never rested until every last one was diminished to a mere flicker destined to burn out hopelessly.

Once the flames were, in his mind, conquered he went back to find the girl. She had vanished. However, he was so relieved to be rid of the inferno that plagued everyone who had lived in this place that he only searched for a moment before he lied to himself. It had been months, perhaps she left like he did, and perhaps she buried parts of the fire too. Besides, He had no coats. He was colder now than he had ever been before. It was time to go home.

Time went by and this cold place seemed to grow even colder. However, this time it was different. This new cold was of the entirely unbearable sort, far more malignant and relentless than the previous one. It gnawed away at the boy with the tenacity of the pit bull. Meanwhile the mound of dirt which had once suffocated the fire seemed to grow larger and larger with every day that went by. And the holes that were created from the boy’s digging never filled in. Not after days, weeks, months, or years. Decades began passing and still the holes maintained their respective depths, while the mountain grew larger every day.

This bewildered the boy. His overzealous, analytical mind forced him to probe deeper into this phenomenon. Once again he ventured out into the cold to try to solve a mystery. He hoped this time he would be able to slake his curiosity. Mountains have never appeared before anyone’s eyes out of nowhere, and this mound had definitely become a mountain. The boy thought that with all the wind in this cold place, erosion should have covered up the potholes and filled in the craters, but that had not been the case.

He scaled up and over the mountain finding nothing unusual, aside from the fact it had become so high in elevation. After coming up empty handed he felt certain the answers lay somewhere in the hundreds of holes. The holes he created with his own hands to suffocate the fire. He backtracked through hole after hole after hole and found nothing. He traveled for hours inspecting each hole no matter the size. Upon searching nearly every hole he remembered where the first hole was done nearest where the blaze began. If an answer was out there in one of these holes, it would be there. For it was not only the original hole, but also the biggest. He didn’t know why, but he felt the urge to run. He sprinted to that hole with full intent to search every square inch of it, but when he arrived there he remembered something greater.

She laid there, innocence embodied. It was the girl from the woods. He was hesitant. He didn’t want to go down there into the hole. He hadn’t completely forgotten what happened last time he had gotten close to her. He couldn’t just leave her there though. It was still so very cold in this place. After much deliberated, logical thinking, he threw himself into the hole to get her once again.

Immediately upon the first moment they touched, the ground shook with a great rumbling. It made sense. He knew now. The mound of dirt had been growing larger because the fire had been burning under it all these years. The mound hadn’t become a mountain, but rather a volcano.

With little time for efficient reaction, the volcano erupted. With great force, the volcano spewed forth the buried flames. With no chance of escape he watched them flow inexorably toward him. He held her tighter now than ever before. She was all he had left whether either of them knew it or not. No matter how long it took, the end would come too soon. The flames, now molten lava, moved over them swiftly and proceeded further past them until the entire place was covered. No one survived. Soon the lava cooled and all that was left of the place was a rock hard surface that was deathly cold to the touch. Still the flames roared underneath.

In his death, the boy met a man. The man was much like the boy and this is how the boy’s story ended.

Man: “I know who you are and what you have done.”

Boy: “What, then, have I done?”

Man: “You have killed them all.”

Boy: “What do you know of that? You know nothing. How else was I to put out a fire in a place as cold as that? Are you the devil?”

Man: “No, I am he”

Boy: “God?”

Man: “No, I am he. And you, my dear friend, are asking me the wrong questions.”

Boy: “What, then, do I ask?”

Man: “Where did she come from? Where has she gone?”

Boy: “I do not know.”

Man: “ask it, then, to someone who does know.”

Boy: “Do you?”

Man: “I do.”

Boy: “Where, then, is she?”

Man: “She never left. She came with the fire and she still is with the fire. “

Boy: “She is as dead as I am then?”

Man: “You have died 1000 times but it was never from the fire. It cannot kill anyone here.”

Boy: “Where is here?”

Man: “We are in the fire.”

Boy: “Why can it not kill us? I felt it, it burns hot.”

Man: “For we created fire and your focus is not where it should be.”

Boy: “What, then, do I ask?”

Man: “How do you put out a fire that burns in a frozen heart?”

Boy: “I do not know.”

Man: “Ask it, then, to someone who knows.”

Boy: “Do you?”

Man: “I don’t.”

And the fire will always burn.