Amphora.

There are the good smells of tobacco and coffee. No Doublemint gum smell. That comes later, when the tobacco disappears. There’s warmth and kindness and super-strength coming from Daddy. He lifts me like I’m a feather and sits me on his lap. His legs are bony ‘cause he’s skinny like me. He’s smiling somewhere under his beard, I spy teeth. I smile too, all clean face and barrettes and good little girl. I’m proud to be me. I’m proud to be his too. There’s nobody stronger or smarter than my Daddy, and he loves me calmly. It’s so nice. Mommy’s love is so different, never without worry. I don’t know the word ‘anxious’ yet, but I feel it already. But Mommy’s somewhere else right now, doesn’t matter. This is our time. He makes me promise not to tell her, she would be mad. Together we do her the favor of not telling. I don’t even have to think before I promise. And I forgot all about my big brother ages ago, he matters less. This is just for us. I’m so excited he’s gonna let me do it. I can’t wait for the trust he gives secretly just to me.

He fills his pipe with the sweet-smelling tobacco. I watch patiently, fascinated. He takes his little box of wooden matches from his shirt pocket. They have their own yummy soft smell, even better when they’re lit. He talks, explaining quietly. He uses words adults never say to me because I’m so little. But inside I’m smart, I understand everything. I love that he knows it. He gives me one match and holds up the box, showing me the sandpaper strip. It’s not perfectly black anymore, we’ve done this before. He tells me what to do and how to do it so it works. He tells me even though I’ve done it before, but it’s ok because the trust is so big. I want to listen. I want to be good. He deserves for me to be good. I hold the match in my tiny fingers and put it on the strip. I’m a little scared, but Daddy’s still smiling so I just go for it. I drag it along the strip briskly like he said, holding my breath waiting for an explosion. But it just catches and flares, the smell stings my nose and I love it. It worked! I gasp and hold it up proudly. I say my little girl things, “Lookit Daddy!”, “I did it!”, “Eeee!” My whole face is a grin. He chuckles softly and says “Yeeaaah!” His tone is my favorite. I put it over the bowl like he said and he puffs, drawing the flame into the tobacco, making the crumbs curl and burn. I watch intently. When the flame has traveled halfway down the match he takes it carefully from my fingers and finishes the job. He’s fearless. I’m happy and pleased with myself as we sit in a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke. I’m pleased that he’s pleased, and happy he’s my Daddy.