The Prison of My Mind

by Filhound

Years before ultimatums were given and choices made, the consequences of which still echo through time. Will the demons of the past return to haunt those involved, or will they remain buried in the past? EC eventually as always. My stories are known to have many twists, abandon at your peril. You will understand in time. This story begins in the past but goes to the present.

38. Chapter 38

Next chapter is make up time, I promise.

Chapter 38.

Gustave turned to his parents and asked, "So when did you stop fighting and realize that you needed to talk to each other and explain your feelings? You are always telling Meg and me that it is best to tell our friends what is bothering us when we are upset with them. Yet it seems to me that you didn't listen to each other; you thought about your own feelings but didn't bother to understand the other side. Don't you always tell Meg and me to listen to what others have to say, so you can know their point of view?"

In response to the question Erik raised an amused eyebrow and met Christine's bemused glance. She blushed profusely, because both of them remembered the exact moment when their misunderstandings gave way to something else, but some parts of their story were inappropriate to share with their children.

Erik explained," Of course we taught you that; we do not want you to repeat our mistakes. Why should you have to suffer the pain that we did? You see we were still at odds when we left Liverpool. We had made some progress. Your mother had begun to speak to me again, but usually with some sort of biting comment. I did not know what to make of her attitude but could only believe it to be openly hostile to me. It would seem that almost everything that I would say to your mother would end up coming back to haunt me. I could not understand what happened to my 'sweet and compliant' Christine, the girl who would hang on every word that I told her as if it were a revelation from God himself. I was hard-pressed to find a reason for her hostility, other than her continuing hatred of me. She would examine me with a searching gaze the purpose of which I was sure was to find a new flaw in my physiognomy."

Christine observed, "Your sweet Christine had been left behind in France on that final night in your lair. I had seen my fiancé die, and a mob try to kill you. You had shown me your worst side but also your best. Admittedly, when the time came for heroics you had tried to save us all, even Raoul, despite the fact that you had just been beaten to within inches of your life by the mob, and then shot. I may not have said so at the time, I may have even unjustly accused you of the opposite, but in my heart, I did know that I was not really afraid of you at all any longer and that I harbored strong feelings for you. Those feelings were far from hatred, but still I didn't trust you. I had finally become accustomed to you as a man, and saw you in that way. You were no longer an angel, demon or Phantom. It was an important revelation for me because I had learned that I could deal with you as a man, and disagree with you, should I want to."

Erik looked at his wife in amusement, "Which you must certainly did. You took full advantage of your newly acquired knowledge." He turned to the children and continued, " I think that your mother had bottled each and every one of her disagreements with me over the years and decided to spill the contents out all at once, dousing me with them. I almost drowned in her feelings."

Christine laughed gingerly, "Well, I freely admit that it was a little bit fun to see just how far I could go. We had been in one another's company and in close quarters. I realized that you were not so sinister after all. I could ascertain that you would never hurt me no matter what the provocation, even if, at times, I went a little too far. We would argue, but you never made a single attempt to physically harm me. I realized quickly that my previous view that you were an inherently violent man was grossly inaccurate. Yes, you were indeed dark and brooding, and, at times exasperating and ill tempered; but you never were threatening towards me. You were still a little bit intimidating because of your height but that was all."

Erik replied lightly, "Well, I wanted to pull up your dress and to spank you, but you women have too many layers. I wondered if it was the real reason why you all wear petticoats and corsets underneath your frocks. They are clearly akin to a suit of armor ready to repel all would-be attackers."

Christine teased, "Well they did their job, you were most definitely deterred."

Christine looked towards the children and continued, "I also, again, thought about all of the provocations that had arisen on the road between Paris and Normandy, yet not one man had died at your father's hands. I freely admit that there were times that I had been ready to take on one or two myself, on his behalf," she added, mischievously.

Erik chuckled, "You would have defended me?"

Christine replied, "You had done nothing to provoke such behavior yet people still treated you poorly. I was angry that they would treat you that way and it made me ashamed of my past behavior towards you. I was also guilty of judging you by your looks and not by your heart, as I should have. I had also come to realize that you were no mindless murderer. Before Mother Jeanne had interrupted us, you had touched upon the fact that you might have killed only in self- defense at the Palais Garnier. If that were true, it put everything that happened there in a new, less sinister light. I started to believe that perhaps what happened back there was not all your fault after all, that we had all played a role that led to the tragedy of that final night."

Erik interrupted, "Yet still I played a staring role in that tragic opera. If I had had more self-control, I might have realized that my actions were driving you away from me. I cast aside everyone, especially Nadir merely due to my misplaced pride. I still can never forgive myself for building that damned contraption."

Christine replied, "Yet clearly Nadir himself forgave you. We all made regrettable choices, but as you have frequently said, we cannot truly bring ourselves to condemn the road that followed those choices. We have the children, and a life filled with joy and happiness; surely that means that we have been forgiven."

"I agree with you," Erik replied softly, yet his tone betrayed his true feelings. He would never forgive himself.

Christine continued her narrative, "Given your past, as it had been revealed to me by Mother Jeanne, it was a wonder that you could love anyone at all. Belatedly I realized that I might have wanted that love. It was regrettable to me that I had, most likely, destroyed the love that you had once held for me. Why would you trust me with your heart when I had not given you any reason to do so? With my new open-mindedness I resolved to treat you better."

Erik smiled, "Of course her change of tactics made me even more skeptical. I was sure that your mother had found yet another new way of inflicting her revenge upon me; likely by convincing me to let down my guard and then twisting the knife in my exposed heart once again. I wanted to nip that tactic in the bud before she could try it.'

'I rebuffed your mother's attempts at civility completely by observing, "Really Christine I do not know what the purpose of this new game of yours is, but I have known you long enough to realize that it is some new form of torture that you have devised to keep me at bay. I have already explained that there is no need for us to play games with one another any longer. I will repeat my previously stated offer, which was that once we arrive in Canada, you might seek out some new swain to serve as your protector. You have already won the war between us, and I have already surrendered the fight. You will be free of me, and my hideous face forever. I swear to you, that once you are settled, and safe, I will stay out of your life forever. Perhaps I might head south to Patagonia to live out my life as a vaquero as the Persian once suggested. It is suitably far from Canada where you will not feel threatened by me in the least bit. Patagonia would be an excellent place for me to begin again. I am sure that my skill with the Punjab Lasso might make even me desirable down there."

Christine looked back at him and then turned to the children, "Naturally I did not take his offer well. I had been expecting that my more gentle and accepting manner would improve our relationship; instead it made it worse."

Erik laughed at the coincidence between them, "Strangely I was of the same mind. I figured that if I showed you how gentle and undemanding I was that I could get the notion of the 'hideous, murderous monster' right out of your head. I even hoped that perhaps we could find some sort of mutual accommodation by taking my attraction for you out of the picture. I knew that I would always harbor some pain for doing so, but I wanted your happiness above all, even my own. I was willing to make the sacrifice if it would make you feel safe from me."

Christine interjected, "As usual we did not communicate. For two people who spent nearly ten years doing nothing but communicating, this change was profound. It began on that night when I removed your mask and did not end until after we boarded our ship. Fortunately there we had Darius to set us straight, at last."

Erik noted, "I am not so sure that he did so out of purely altruistic needs so much as he badly wanted us come to a peaceful resolution of our conflict. It must have been terrible for him to listen to us constantly at odds, with him in the middle of it. Yet it was the sexual tension between us…"

Christine interrupted blushing once again, "The children darling, you almost forgot that we were explaining what happened to us to them and not just reminiscing."

Gustave remarked, "We know that you and father are deeply in love Mother. You would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to see the love between you."

"Which the two of us were. By then, I was sure that your father did not even like me; let alone love me." Christine admitted.

"And I was equally sure that you could not even stand to have me around you, let alone want me to love you." Erik added echoing Christine's words. "The moment that we boarded the ship I resolved to spend as little time with your mother as I could without risking our safety. I was not yet convinced that we had not been followed. But once she was safely in bed and the door to her cabin was locked from the inside, as I had advised her to do, I would wander the ship in the middle of the night, to get a breath of fresh air and to view the starry sky. We were far enough north to get a glimpse of the famed Aurora Borealis, although the season for doing so had passed, since it was late May. Still being out at sea always calmed me. Like me, it was so dark and deep. You children have never seen the ocean, only the St. Laurent, but salt water has a particularly fresh and briny smell; and the air is so pure because you are far from land, and all of the factories that belch out smoke and fumes.'

'The moonlight and stars are unobstructed from viewing because there are no city lights to obscure them. Standing there and watching them and hearing nothing but the faint purr of the ships engines and the foamy sea lapping against the sides of the ship, was mesmerizing for me. It was still not that warm because we were so far north, in the Atlantic, the nearest land was Iceland and Greenland; and yet even those places were far off and not visible. The fresh air felt great on my face, which I left unmasked under the hood of my priest's garment to let the thin skin on my face breath. In freeing my face from its prison, and embracing the seas healing properties, I felt almost purified from the filth that had characterized my life for so long. It had been many years since I had been at liberty to enjoy such a feeling of freedom and lightheartedness and it indeed felt exhilarating. It, up to that time, had been the most peaceful moment in my life. I wanted to savor it forever.'

'Back in Paris I could climb to the roof of the Palais Garnier, yet I could never relax up there, for fear that someone could see me and call the police to come and seize me. There, in the dead of the night, out in the middle of the Atlantic, my cares slipped away in the white foamy wake that I observed from my position on the stern. I wondered why I had never thought about immigrating to the New World before; the Old World was so cynical and prejudicial. I had wandered to its limits and had never found peace or love within my reach there, only pain and hatred. Perhaps, at the end of this journey, I could hope to find acceptance, since the New World had welcomed so many others before me, could there a place for me? I let the hope trickle down inside of me and search out a place in my shattered soul, embedding itself there, in the small part of it that had never succumbed to the darkness that had permeated the rest of me for so long.'

'My thoughts interrupted by a rustling noise. Instinctively, I grabbed whoever it was to neutralize the threat. To my surprise it felt lightweight and trembling, I turned to see who it was. It was merely a child of around six years old, dressed in oversized black clothing. The black suit almost crushed him it was so large, it was very frayed as well. The legs of the pants had been crudely cut away because they had clearly not been made for the child. '

'I let him go and hissed, "Who do you think you are boy to sneak up on someone like that? I might have hurt you?"

He looked at me blankly. I remembered that I was on a British ship, so I switched to English, yet drew the same blank and frightened stare. I examined his clothing which was all black and looked vaguely Eastern European. The boy wore a skullcap which clearly demarcated him as being Jewish. I remember seeing similarly clad people in Russia during my time there, but had thought little of them. I had heard some of the Russians speak ill of the Jews, but I had never really spoken to them. I addressed the boy in Russian and he did understand that language, although he spoke with a strong Yiddish accent.

"What are you doing out here sneaking around the deck at 2 in the morning boy? Don't you know that I could have hurt you?" I asked him, trying not to frighten him any more. By then I had realized that he had not meant to startle me.'

'He gave me a still fearful look but answered, "I came out to look at the stars, same as you. My Abba told me that they are all distant suns and planets, up there and somewhere far away maybe other people and civilizations. I was wondering if there was one up there where I could go, and find a place where I might belong. Where people wouldn't hurt me just for being different. Do you think that such a place exists in the heavens?"

I looked at his perfect face, or at least it would have been but for a black eye that marred its perfection. The boy was a handsome child, yet reminded me of myself at that age. He too was an outcast, yet had done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve his fate. Looking at the stars, over the years, I had often wondered the same thing. Still since he was not a freak like myself and therefore he could escape his fate, I observed in a kindly manner, "I don't think that you need to go so far, young man, I am sure that there is a place for you somewhere here on earth. Wouldn't your family miss you? This 'Abba' that you just spoke of."

The boy turned away sniffling, he turned back to me and met my gaze; his brown eyes had welled into tears. I could see that he was struggling to contain them. Finally he spoke rather softly, "Abba is dead, Ema too. I have no family, not anymore. They all died last month in Yelizavetgrad, the town where I was born and where I had lived my entire life."

I gave him a sympathetic look, "I am sorry child. How did that happen? An accident?"

'The boy looked at me, seemingly surprised that I wouldn't ascertain the reason immediately, "It was because we were Jews. The Russians and the Ukrainians blamed all of us for killing the Tsar; but we loved him as much as everyone else. Abba told me that the killers were 'ana-car-custs' and not Jews but they blamed us just the same, as they always do when something bad happens. Yet why would we have killed him? He was our father too, just like he was theirs. No Tsar had ever been kinder to us than Alexander Nikolaevich; yet they claimed that we killed him just the same and decided to hurt us as vengeance for it."

The boy again tried to contain his tears this time unsuccessfully. He wiped the tears from his cheeks. From his speech I could tell that he was older than he first appeared to be, but he was thin and waiflike, likely undernourished, as I had once been.'

The boy continued, "We were all eating our supper when a mob came to our home, above our small tailor shop, and started pelting it with rocks, breaking the windows. After the glass shattered, I was told to run to my room where I hid in a trunk. I peered out from a crack under the lid, and also listened as they found and killed my father; they left but first set fire to my house, my mother, two brothers and my sister died in the fire that they set because they were trapped in the house. I managed to creep out of the house but only I escaped. As long as I live I will never forget their screams, and then there was silence.."

'I looked at the boy in surprise, "Why did the police not intervene?" Truly, even I was shocked by his story and, by then, not very much could shock me. I had thought that I had witnessed the worst atrocities that humanity could inflict but to hurt innocent children, who looked perfectly human, that was something different. Not even the Shah was that terrible.'

The boy laughed bitterly and then answered my question, "They were the police, and soldiers as well. They all turned against us. They attacked for two days and nights until the entire Jewish section of town was demolished and some. Still the police did not protect us, they laughed as they watched my people die and our homes and shops turn to rubble. The new Tsar, Alexander Alexandrovich is nothing like his father, he hates us. Father told me they hate us because we are different than them. We dress differently and speak in Yiddish and not Russian or Ukrainian. We eat and pray differently as well but we don't wish them any harm. Abba said that God created us all in his image, Jew and Gentile, that we are all the same on the inside. You are a priest was what Abba told me wrong?"

"No, your Abba was right, son," I replied. I came to realize that I was not the only one in the world who had suffered from being different. Maybe my situation was not so unique. I peered back at the boy and again noticed his black eye. His bruise seemed fresh, "How did you get that black eye?" I asked gently,

"From a group of Irish boys in steerage, they called me all sorts of names that I didn't understand and then beat me up." He explained.

"With whom are you travelling? Surely they can protect you?" I asked.'

"I am all alone, I had no one left to take me away. A kindly Ukrainian neighbor, who had been friends with both my parents and my Tante Tanya, took pity on me. They took me in and hid me, but then told me that I could not remain with them, that it was no longer safe for me in Yelizavetgrad, or anywhere else in Russia. She and her husband Boris sold all of my parent's possessions that they could salvage from the remains of our house, except for Abba's violin. That they let me keep so I could remember my Abba forever. He loved to play it, and was teaching me to play it as well. They then used the money to buy me the passage to Canada. They were able to wire my Tante Tanya, in Canada, and tell her the details of my family's death; they then made the arrangements for me to leave. I traveled all the way from Odessa to Liverpool on a Russian ship all by myself, and then transferred to this ship."

"How old are you boy, to travel so far by yourself?" I asked.

"I am almost eleven. I can take care of myself." He told me proudly, I was the oldest child, and I used to take care of my brothers and my sister."

"I looked at his bruised face and remarked, "Your face doesn't reflect that boy." I felt sorry for him, again he reminded me too much of my own self at that age. Yet the boy was willing to trust in humanity despite the horror that had been inflicted upon him. I wanted to come to his aid and had a thought, "Why don't you come with me and I will get you a cabin in second class. Then no one will bully you for the rest of the voyage."

He looked at me with a long face, "I don't have the money for that sir, the man gave me only enough money for the crossing. I only have a few rubles left, and my father's violin. That, and a photograph is all that I have left of my family."

I clapped the boy on the shoulder "I meant that I would pay for it."

"The boy shook his head no, I am sorry sir but I cannot accept."

'I explained, "There are no strings attached boy, I want to help you. I too know what it is like to be ostracized."

'The boy looked at me in surprise, "But you are a Christian, a Catholic priest. Even I recognize your robes as such. What could you know about being hated just for being different?"

'I could not help but to be amused, for clearly the boy had not seen what lurked under my garb or he never would have said that. I pointed to my face, "I am hideous. If I removed this hood, and you saw my face, you would understand. I have a deformity which gives half my face the appearance of a corpse."

The boy looked at me in curiosity, "May I see it?"

"I shook my head 'no', "I don't think that it is wise. It made my parents reject me in fear. You would run away from me in terror, and maybe even betray my secret. I can barely dare to glance at my face myself, and I am accustomed to viewing it."

The boy replied stubbornly, "No I wouldn't! I am sure that I have already seen worse. What could be worse than seeing ones whole family killed? I will never forget looking at their lifeless bodies as long as I live. What could be scarier than hiding in fear of your own life, knowing that they are hunting for you to kill you? You have been nothing but kind to me. Why then would I find your face to be scary, just because it is ugly? Please, I would like to see your face for myself. Then I might be more inclined to accept your offer. I must know my benefactor."

I looked at him hesitantly, and then I lowered the hood just enough for him to get a quick glance and then quickly replaced it. His eyes grew wide in horror and I expected him to flee but instead he stood his ground and then asked innocently, "Does it hurt?"

His response both surprised and amused me, I laughed, "No, it only hurts when people flee from me in horror, or view me as something less than human."

He looked at me in hesitation, "Would you mind if I touch it? It would make it seem less scary, if I knew that you were real."

I found his request odd, but nodded my assent, he touched me on my deformity but he did not flinch: neither did I, "Are you convinced now?" I asked him.

He replied, "Yes, you are real."

I smirked, "I knew that."

"Is that why you became a priest? So you could cover your face with that hood." He asked. "I could understand why, truly I can. Still it is not so bad, and you have a really kind voice. It is why I talked to you."

"No, I had my reasons." I replied evasively for I could hardly tell him the truth. "What are your plans after leaving the ship?" I asked changing the subject.

"I am heading to Montreal to live with my Tante Tanya. I have never met her. She was my mother's aunt, but left for Canada before I was born."

I looked at the boy in sympathy, "Well hopefully you will find a home there."

The boy agreed, "I hope so, but I am afraid, I feel so alone," He admitted. "I miss my parents, I even miss my sister and my cat Natasha." He added tearfully. "You are a priest do you think that they are in heaven?" I asked.

'I replied in a comforting tone, "I think that they are. They are watching over you right now."

The boy smiled gratefully, "Thank you, what can I call you?"

"You may call me Erik. What is your name boy?" I asked.

"Aaron" He replied offering his hand politely.'

I took his hand to lead him back inside, "Come with me. I am going to let you into my cabin; you may sleep in my bed for the rest of the night. I require little sleep anyhow. Just do not disturb my Persian friend Darius, although he may disturb you, he snores very loudly and sleeps right above me."

As we left the deck, I saw your mother had been watching us. I met her gaze, and then told her, somewhat sarcastically, "Don't worry I am not planning on taking advantage of the boy."

A look of hurt crossed her face, and then your mother replied defensively, "How dare you think that. I never thought that you were. I could not understand what you were speaking about, but it looked as if you were comforting him. Where are you taking him? Back to his parents?"

'I glared at her and still felt very defensive, "Well if you must know I am taking him to my cabin so he can sleep with Darius. Good night Christine," I did not wait for her to reply but instead took the boy to my stateroom. I spent the rest of the night sitting up in one of the lounges.'

Meg asked, "That boy, was that Uncle Aaron?"

Erik replied, "Yes it was."

"So you met him on the way to America? He is not our real uncle then is he?" Meg asked.

Erik shook his head, "No he is just a friend, like Darius, but a good friend. When we docked in Canada, I made sure that he made it safely to his aunt, and even gave her some money to help her to take care of him. I could see that she was poor. She did not want to accept it but I convinced them that it was a loan and that they could pay me back in time, which Aaron eventually did, and then some."

"That was kind of you Father," Meg observed proudly.

"I have always had a weak spot for the young and vulnerable, and he was never afraid of me, which I appreciated. As he had said, he had seen worse than my face, and knowing what he had been through, I believed him. In speaking to Aaron, and hearing his story I lost a little more of my anger towards humanity. I came to realize that there truly were good people, like Nadir or the Ukrainian couple, and bad people like my old master and those who harmed the boy's family and that not all bad actions were directed at me. It gave me pause to consider whether or not I had done enough to find the good people or whether I had unfairly lumped them together with the bad," Erik explained.

Christine added, "I had watched your father and the boy for quite some time, that night. For the first time in a long while, I had seen my angel spring forth out of hiding once again to comfort the boy. I did not understand the words but his tone of voice was the same gentle and beautiful tone that he used to use with me, and I was shocked that he would let the boy touch his face without reacting violently as he had done that night with me. It made me reconsider once again, everything that I had thought about your father, and opened my eyes yet even more. I think that we might have finally reached an understanding right there and then if your father had not said those terrible things to me. I realized that my angel was still there hiding behind a new façade that your father had donned for me. If that angel still lived then perhaps his love still lived as well."

Erik admitted, "At that point I still believed that your mother was looking into everything that I did no matter how innocent, and deeming me guilty in some way. I guess that I was still angry with her for jumping to bad conclusions about me in the past."

Christine recalled, "At that time, you always thought the worst of whatever I might be thinking. Since I was in reality thinking only good thoughts about you I took offense at your clear accusation. It seemed like I could do no right in your eyes."

Erik replied, "You could do nothing else but right. But remember I was still under the impression that you couldn't stand me."

"The next morning I complained to Darius about it yet again. How you always thought the worst of me no matter what. I told him that I was sure that you couldn't wait to get rid of me." Christine recalled.

Erik sighed, "I said exactly the same thing to Darius as you. The next morning, once I got the boy situated, I spoke to Darius about your continuing disdain of me, and he tried to assure me that I was mistaken, that you did not dislike me."

Christine laughed, "He tried to assure me of the same. It was later that same night that he finally forced us to be in your cabin together. He was tired of our fights and our misunderstandings. He decided that he no longer cared about the improprieties of forcing us to spend time together alone. He felt that he had little choice but to throw us together to make us talk."

Erik recalled that night, "Did we talk? I don't remember talking but I remember the rest."

Christine blushed, "We did talk, but we did much more than talk. We went into that cabin barely speaking to one another and we came out two completely different people."

Meg looked at her mother, "Is that when you realized that you loved Father?"

Christine replied, "You could say that." She met Erik's amused gaze.

Meg asked, "So when you arrived in Canada, you decided to get married."

Erik replied, "It seemed the logical thing to do once we realized that we felt exactly the same way about each other. Your mother assured me that she no longer bore any ill will towards me and that she wanted my company, and I did the same to her. We eventually confessed our love for one another, and the last of our enmity was buried."

Gustave asked, "Now that that question has been answered, how did we become the de Chagnys. You said that you only meant to use the Vicomte's name to acquire his property for your use, yet you did more than that."

Erik replied, "We will tell you later. Since there will undoubtedly be school tomorrow you must do your homework. If you finish on time we will tell you that last part of our story. "

The children left reluctantly. Christine then looked at Erik, "There was much more to that night than they will ever know."

Erik grinned, "We don't need to tell them exactly what happened."

"Do you think that Gustave was conceived that night?" Christine asked Erik.

"You know that I always have. So much passion was released that night. Clearly it must have manifested itself in Gustave." He replied with a knowing smile.

"Yet it could have gone a different way. Up to that point we each had made an art of misunderstanding the other's intentions."

"But after that night we had no further doubts." Erik added. "You were far from mysterious with what you wanted of me."

Christine laughed, "You were the same."

Erik looked at her and crooned huskily, My God Christine how I adore you. I love you more than I love life itself."

Christine sighed contentedly, "And I feel the same way towards you. I love you beyond all reason. I could never imagine a life without you."

Erik remarked, "I hope that it never comes to that. I pray that the Phantom remains dead and buried, and that our happiness will remain." Erik again thought of that night, "As long as I live I will never forget how it all began, how we forgave each other for everything and confessed our love."

"Ouch that bunk bed was far too narrow," Christine observed lightly.

"Hmm that was the glory of it as I recall. We had no place to hide from the other and that Persian made sure that we could not leave," Erik recalled.

Christine giggled, "Did we want to?"

Erik leered, "I don't think so, not after we talked and then somehow found ourselves making love."

"We sort of stumbled into that moment didn't we?" Christine asked.'

Erik teased, "It was a great way to settle our differences. That is why I like to pick fights with you to this day."

Christine smiled, "Me too. I love making up with you."

"Me too, mon amour." Erik replied, "But still that night Darius was playing with fire. He was successful but there was no guarantee of such." He joked "But then again Darius is a Zoroastrian and people of his faith do like playing with fire."