Page 31 - The Grotesque Children's Book

“How --” she said, nearly in a whisper, “How, if I wanted to, would I ignite
the square of charcloth?” She pulled it out from the top of her boot. “I don’t
have a flint or a strike.”

The salamander did not move, nor even open his eyes. “There’s a flint
and a strike over there on the bench in the garden. The priest left it there.”

Amelia stood without moving. She looked at the church garden and saw
a bench with a few somethings on it. She could not see exactly what they were.

“If you’re going to do it, hurry,” said the salamander, beginning now to
quiver. “Not much time left.”

“It’s -- I promised my Father I’d bring him some charcloth.”

“Do you think he’d be angry if you brought him fire instead?”

“But your pain, from the fire....”

“Yes, I know. And now because of my sacrifice and inaction, I too am
caught between two equally frightening possibilities: death from cold, or death
from fire. The first relieves me of suffering; the second relieves all of us from
suffering. But in both there is fear. No getting around that for me. So.”

“Yes, but in only one of those choices am I the one responsible. If I leave
you, alone, you’ll die without my having to kill you. By fire, I’d be the one to
kill you.”

“You’d save me.”

“I’d hurt you.”

“I will hurt, whether it’s caused by you or not. You can’t prevent my
suffering, Amelia. You can only lessen the suffering of others.”

“But...my promise to my father....”

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