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Sparks flick up like fireworks, and fizzle impotently. Ib watches with disconnected interest.
Garry catches her eyes, and clicks his hopeless Zippo shut. “I seem to be a rather poor influence.”
Ib tilts her head, curiosity without judgement. “What’re you doing?”
Embarrassed, he curls the unlit cigarette into a fist. “Nothing good, that’s for certain.”
“Still out of oil?”
“I am,” Garry admits, “I bought cigarettes, but lighter fluid completely slipped my mind.”
She gets this concerned pout, and Garry tucks the lighter in his pocket with an encouraging smile. “Agh, it’s for the better. Would you like a candy?”
He holds one at arm’s length. Mechanically, Ib takes it, and unwraps it delicately. Garry pops one in his mouth, and holds his hand open for her wrapper. Ib doesn’t really express confusion (doesn’t express much), so it takes Garry a second to register what she means by, “I don’t want it.”
There’s still a cigarette in that hand. He chuckles, “I meant the wrapper.” Ib nods, and passes it to him. “-But, that’s a good response, too. Don’t do drugs, Ib.”
“Okay.” she agrees easily.
He snickers. Nine years old, she’s already better company than most adults. She rolls the candy around her mouth, and looks at him pitifully. “What is it?”
Ib’s face scrunches. “What, you don’t like it?” She shakes her head. Grinning in amusement, Garry holds out his hand- candy wrappers and unused cigarette. “You can spit it out.”
She does, and pats her mouth with her handkerchief. Nine years old, and she’s got better manners than most adults, too. Garry closes his left hand, resigned to not using it until he can get to a trashcan- and a sink. Neatly, Ib folds her handkerchief. “I didn’t think candy could be bad.”
“I’ve given you a lemon drop before.”
Ib sets the piece of cloth on her thigh, and smoothes it out. “I didn’t eat it.”
“You didn’t?” She shakes her head. “Why not?”
Ib blinks at him, like it’s obvious. “Daddy told me not to take candy from strangers.”
Garry raises an eyebrow (an action rarely seen under his hair), then cracks open his sticky hand, and smiles.
He’s not a stranger anymore.