The Matchbox

Chapter 1

All rights reserved.

Darkness crept over the valley. Somewhere, an owl gave its lonely call. Then the stillness was suddenly interrupted. The lingering scent of smoke drifted over the trees. The birds took off in a frenzied cloud. The foxes scampered out of their dens. A flash of flame erupted in the middle of the valley, creeping steadily toward the sleeping town.

That was how the story began. It was a tale I’d grown up with, a tale everyone knew. We don’t know who wrote it, but the town records show the truth. If only we had paid more attention to it. Well, I guess it’s true what people say. If you don’t know your history you’re doomed to repeat it.

My name’s Lea and I live in a small town in Southwestern Pennsylvania. We’re pretty old-fashioned. Around here, half the place is revolutionary war style. The other half is a lot like something you’d see in a civil war movie. I live on the civil war side, in a house dating back to a distant cousin of Abraham Lincoln. At least, that’s how the story goes.

This past summer was the driest one we ever experienced during my lifetime. We were just waiting for something to happen. In our town, it seems like once one bad thing happens more follow.

My first realization that something was wrong came in late November. I was walking with my dog, Roxie, in the mountains that border our valley. Roxie started to bark. She always finds something to bark at, so I didn’t think much of it at first. That is, until I thought I saw movement between the trees. Not many other people went up that deep in the forest; at least I hadn’t ever seen another soul.

Roxie was going completely crazy by then, tugging at her leash even more than usual. I got the unnerving feeling that someone was watching me. I turned and raced toward home as fast as my legs could carry me.

By the time I got home, dinner was ready. I told my mom about Roxie’s strange reaction to whatever was on the hill. As I’d predicted, she didn’t seem too concerned. “Probably just another hiker,” she said.

“Or—” My dad’s undoubtedly sarcastic remark was cut off when every light in the house suddenly went out. We waited a few moments to see if they would come back on. They didn’t.

My parents went to check the circuit breaker. While we awaited their return, I told my older sister, Brittany, “I really did see someone.”

“Why does it matter?”  She scoffed. “Other people can go hiking, Lea. You don’t own the woods.” 

I glared at her. Older sisters are so exasperating.

When I woke up the next morning, the power was still out.  I ran down the staircase and into the kitchen. My mother was listening to our ancient battery powered radio. She switched it off when I entered the room. “The power is out all over town,” she said.

Although her face remained expressionless, I could tell she was worried. “What’s wrong?” I inquired. She pretended not to hear me. When my mother gets upset, it’s only about something incredibly important. I nervously turned on the radio.

The local news was on, and the radio announcer was saying, “… the power plant literally went up in smoke last night. Arson is suspected. Anyone with information concerning the fire should call—”

My mother came over and switched off the radio before I could even catch the hotline number. “Hey!” I protested.

“There’s no reason to waste the batteries,” she scolded gently.

“I’m not wasting them. Besides, we have plenty more,” I snapped back, but I obeyed and went outside with a granola bar for breakfast. I clipped the leash onto my dog’s collar and started to walk towards the place where I’d been yesterday when Roxie went crazy. I didn’t know why I wanted to go back after what happened before, but I couldn’t help it. My curiosity got the best of me, as it too often does.

I hurried up the hillside with Roxie at my heels. We stopped to rest on a ledge that protruded from the steepest face of the lofty hill. My mother would probably have a conniption if she saw us up here. I could picture her face, with lines of worry creasing her forehead, as she had looked the last time I’d done something like this. “Lea, dear,” she’d begin, “it’s dangerous. If you ever fell from that kind of height, it would be a miracle if you lived to tell the tale.”

My father was much more easygoing about such matters. “Just stay away from the edge. If you fall, I’m not paying your hospital bills.” He couldn’t be serious for more than a sentence.

I dropped Roxie’s leash and let her sniff around, knowing she wouldn’t go far. Meanwhile I sat on a rock and munched on a honey-flavored granola bar. I examined the landscape as I ate.  My gaze fell upon a little cardboard box that rested on the ground not six feet from where I sat.

I stood and went over to pick it up so I could dispose of it when I got home. However, when I saw what it was, I hesitated. It was a matchbox, resting scarcely a quarter of a mile from the power plant that had burned last night. Perhaps it was a coincidence? Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.

I pulled my bandana off of my head and used it to pick up the matchbox without touching it. I put it in an unused doggie-doo bag and pocketed it. I hoped I hadn’t gotten any of my own DNA on it, or fingerprints.

Not wanting to find out if my suspicions would be proven correct, I called for Roxie to come back. We would explore a different part of the forest today.