Free Secret Light by Z. A. Maxfield

asleep, but he had to rise and face the pins and needles
    or simply accept a tablecloth over his head and maybe hold up a lamp or a dish of
    candy for the rest of his life. “I am going to go see what the grown-ups are up to. Split
    up my matchsticks between you. You’ve utterly vanquished me.” The children barely
    waved good-bye before they dived on his winnings.
    The dining table had been laid out with so much food it fairly buckled beneath the
    weight of it all. Cold chicken, turkey, and brisket, several types of salads: mixed bean,
    wild rice, and macaroni among them. There were boiled red potatoes and vegetable
    dishes with pungent, garlicky spiced dressings. Noodle kugel with raisins, plain noodle
    kugel, cinnamon bobka , and halvah.
    He ate as large a meal as he dared and afterward smoked a cigarette on the patio,
    holding Mooki in his arms and talking shop with the men from work. It was a pleasant
    evening all around, and when he finally clipped on Mooki’s leash and left, he felt as
    good about things—about himself and his place in his world—as he’d felt in a long
    time.
    He gazed back at the Golds’ house before he keyed the Buick’s ignition. From inside
    his car there on the darkened street, he could see the girls through the front window
    still tearing around happily, well past their bedtime.
    He watched them in wonder.
    They were growing up in their traditions. They sang songs in Hebrew and Yiddish.
    They played with their dreidel. They shopped openly for challah and Shabbat candles.
    They kept a mezuzah on the door. There were plenty of reasons to be afraid in their
    world—even more reasons to want the very enticing Hanukkah bush that made their
    mother frown—but they were happy.
    Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
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    They lived without constant fear.
    Imagine, Papa und Mutti. This is the world in which I live.

    * * * *
Rafe pulled into his driveway a little after midnight. He and Mooki got out of the
    car together, and Mooki stood on the back porch, waiting patiently while he removed
    the rather large bag of food Dorothy Gold had pressed on him as he was leaving.
    “We shall eat very well for the next week,” he was saying when something dark
    emerged from the shadows.
    He whirled on pure instinct as a hooded figure swung something in a great arc.
    Whatever it was whistled through the air as it came crashing down on him. Pain
    exploded on his back between his shoulder blades and knocked the breath from his
    lungs entirely.
    “ What —” Rafe jumped again, this time fueled by panic and rage. More blows fell,
    sharp, quick jabs and longer swings. With each strike, pain started with a thud and
    caught his skin on fire. His assailant lifted his weapon over his head, and—sheiβe—
    bore down on him. Whoever it was, he meant to bring it right down over Rafe’s head.
    At the last possible second, Rafe lifted his arm to block the blow.
    The bones in his forearm cracked audibly beneath tremendous force. Rafe fell to his
    knees with an appalling, high scream and rolled out of the way of another blow. He
    scrambled to get beneath his car. The next swing caught the door of the Buick, denting
    the brand-new green surface badly. Mooki went mad barking and ran toward them.
    Rafe kicked out with his feet, tripping up his attacker and giving himself time to scoot
    farther away—giving himself a second to think.
    “ Fire !” he screamed with every ounce of his remaining strength. His neighbor’s
    bedroom lights went on, and the window shade rose with a flutter. As the window
    opened, he called again, “ Fire, fire !”
    Z. A. Maxfield | Secret Light
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    Mooki leaped up and up like a tiny dog high jumper. She clamped onto his
    attacker’s arm with a gut-wrenching snarl, growling and biting, and Rafe’s assailant,
    whoever he was, howled in pain. In the light pooling on the driveway from Rafe’s
    neighbor’s bedroom, Rafe could see droplets of blood scatter as the bastard shook
    Mooki like a rag