Trust Me (Hanako)

Trust Me


I close my eyes, and the smell of smoke invades my senses. Not just my nose, but my skin greets it like an old enemy, and I feel a shiver pass through my body. But there's no time to remember things long past. Taking charge, I reach out and grip the hands of other two people in the room.
“What do we do?” The first says, a twinge of fear creeping into his voice.
“Follow me.” I reply, and we're off. We stay low to the floor to avoid the smoke, and when we get to the door, I briefly free my hands to check the handle for heat.
“We're okay!” I say, retaking their hands in mine as we move into the hallway. When we reach the first floor though, a wall of flames leaps out at us.
“It looks like the fire started in the kitchen!” The owner of the second hand clasped in mine shouts. The fire almost looks alive. In fact, the way it dances about in spasms, it might just be having a heart attack. I try to focus on the matter at hand.
“Keep going, we're almost outside!” We make our way through the doors and into the warm afternoon air, piling out onto the sidewalk. This is the part where you would be able to hear fire engines wailing off in the distance. And you'd be wondering just how much you'd lost, in more ways than one. And...
“The fire followed us out of the house!” The tinny cry snaps me back to my senses. I turn to watch a man walking out the doors and down the steps toward us.
“Hey, hey, I'm not the fire anymore,” He calls out, waving his arms as if they were white flags. “Glad you guys made it out safely, though.”
“Of course we did!” The little boy beside me grins. “After all, we're the best there is at fire safety!”
“That's right.” I give my son a pat on the head. “There's no one better.”
“Your dancing is starting to improve.” I nudge Hisao as he comes to stand next to me, and he lets out a laugh.
“Well, that's another good thing to come out of these monthly drills. I don't think I was that bad to begin with, though...”
“Oh, trust me, it was a sight to see.” I wink, scooping up our daughter in my arms. Our youngest at just past four, she looks up at me with bright brown eyes, just one of the many gifts her father has given me over the years. Her gaze lingers on my face, and she looks at me not with pity or disgust, but with something akin to awe.
“Mommy always knows what to do in case of a fire.” She mumbles, reaching out with a tiny hand to touch the side of my face.
“Of course I do.” I reply, and give her a gentle squeeze. “Because you three always keep me so warm.”
Beside me, Hisao lets out a pointed cough. “I think the fire today might have destroyed dinner, though...”
He can be clever at times, saying something like that when my hands are full.
“You're only saying that because it's your turn to cook tonight...”
“Sorry, what did you say? Ice cream for dinner?” Any reply I might have is drowned out by the ecstatic response from the children, and I have no choice but to let out a sigh. When we're able to calm them down, I transplant our daughter into Hisao's outstretched arms, and take our son's hand in mine as we begin to walk into town in search of something to eat, the setting sun draping us in a warm blanket of light. The townsfolk may or may not be staring, but the warmth of the hand in mine, the body of the man next to me, and that bathing orange glow is more than enough to drive away any and every fear in the world.



“Trust Me” is a song by The Fray.