Wendy did not understand Charlie’s hesitation. Perhaps she’d been wrong about him. Her eyes narrowed.
“I thought you’d like it. Just think,” she started to get swept away, “how high the flame could be. We can hide just there,” she pointed to a thicket nearby, “Crotchy Corbet will never see us. Imagine the look on his face.”
Charlie’s eyes sparked. Oh he knew. He knew she was right. He only needed a little help to realize his TRUE potential. But like all men, he was gun-shy; nervous at taking on too much too soon. Thinking with his head instead of his heart; typical!
“I dunno,” he stared at the doghouse.
“Help Corbet get passed his mutt’s death. It’s the least we can do, Charlie”
“I hated that dog. It barked all the time!”
“Then burn it!” she hissed.
Charlie looked down at her, and contemplated.
Finally he reached into his pocket and produced his lighter.
“I supposed it would be a nice fire.”
“Nice? It’ll be beautiful, just like you, Charlie”
Charlie’s breath caught and he grinned.
He sparked his lighter, “Ok”