Let the Small Things Lie

Chapter one: Fire and Ice


"You're always so cold

even though you say

you don't remember how to be

you're always so warm

even though it's been

so long since you could be

some seventy thousand days,

and yet you still can't decide

what's better,

fire, or ice."


Oskar opened his eyes, and sat up. Eli was staring at him intensely. He'd only taken a few moments to read the poem out loud. Why did it feel like Eli had been watching him forever?

"Why did you close your eyes?" Eli asked, sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor. Oskar swallowed, and shifted his weight uncomfortably. He had lain back in the bed, eyes closed, to better ignore his surroundings, to better forget that Eli was listening intently to his every word.

"It's scary to read my writing out loud. It's not so bad, when I close my eyes." Eli continued staring at him, his facial expression unchanged. Finally, a frown appeared on his face.

"What did you mean, I can't decide what's better, fire or ice?" Eli asked.

"It's a reference to a poem. It's by an American, Robert Frost." Oskar's eyes darted briefly around the room, glossing over the accouterments of the hotel room. They fixed themselves on a generic abstract painting, with a border that was probably thicker than the painting itself. "Have you heard of him?"

"No." Eli shook his head. "Have you heard of Rube Goldberg?"

"No, why?"

"He was an American artist. He drew comics. He also invented things. He didn't make very many puzzles, but he did draw a lot of silly inventions." Eli looked down at his bare feet wiggling against the carpet, and shrugged. "They did simple things, but he always found the most complicated way to do them. I guess they were a bit like puzzles."

At the mention of puzzles, Oskar thought back to how they'd first met, the nights they'd spent sitting on the playground in front of his apartment complex, the Rubik's cube he couldn't solve, that Eli solved easily.

There was a pause. A note of silence hummed throughout the room. Oskar got up, and stretched, contorting his face into a comic pose. Eli would be hungry soon, he thought. It's been a good amount of time since he'd last eaten, he'd be in a bad mood soon.

"I'm going to bathe," Oskar announced. "You smell, too. Wash your clothes." He walked towards the bathroom, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "Even better, let's get new clothes tomorrow."

Eli jumped to his feet in one, fluid motion, following Oskar. "We can't, " Eli stated matter-of-factly. "Well, you can't. There are people looking for you; your mother must have reported you missing. There are flyers everywhere." Oskar stopped in front of the bathroom door, turning to face Eli. He missed his mother, even though it had only been a few days. Not a lot, but even though she was over protective, he felt bad for leaving so suddenly, for not telling her anything. "We'll figure it out tomorrow, Oskar."

They nodded to each other silently, and Oskar locked himself into the bathroom. Eli laid against the bathroom door, bored, now. He heard the water start to run.

He tapped against the door, repeating a pattern once, twice, three times. Everything was quiet, except for the running water. If Eli had a heartbeat, he'd hear it, thumping gently in his chest. He put his ear up to the door, and listened.

The sound of clothes hitting the floor, the sound of bare feet on tile, then silence. Tapping against the door, repeating once, twice, three times.

Puss. Eli smiled.