Trappings (part 2)

Gracie was up early the next morning; the lighter was still on her dresser. She shot glances at it as she popped in and out of her room while getting ready for school. At breakfast Gracie asked, "How many cats have been killed by curiosity?"
"That's a weird question, Grace," her father said. "What are you curious about?"
"I just don't know why they say curiosity killed the cat," Grace replied. "I mean, whose cat was it?"
"It isn't curiosity that kills the cat; it's what they find when they're not cautious that does it," her mother answered.
"Grace, are you positive you haven't found Mr. Kohren's lighter?" her father asked very sternly.
"Yes daddy," Gracie lied.
"Honey, those things are very dangerous. They can hurt people."
"I understand, daddy. I sweat I haven't seen any lighters."

She took it to school. During class, she impulsively touched it through the bump in her pocket over and over.
"Why do you keep poking your pocket?" Kayleigh asked at lunch. Gracie led her to the girls' restroom and brought out the lighter.
"Is that a lighter?" Kayleigh said in awe, with a bit of fear.
"I think so," Gracie said.
"They're not safe. They burn things," Kayleigh said.
"Everybody keeps telling me that, but I don't think this one works."
"Why not?"
"Because it hasn't made any fire."
"Here, let me see it." Kayleigh took the lighter and opened it. She pushed on the flint wheel, but it was stiff with age. "Try to spin that circle thingy," she said, handing it back.
"What do we do if it makes fire?" Gracie said.
"Throw it in the toilet."
They moved into a stall to be ready.
"It's too hard," Gracie said. "It won't budge."
"You've gotta push hard. I've seen the older kids do it."
Gracie pushed so hard her fingers hurt, and the wheel spun a little. After a few more spins, they were making sparks, but still no flame.
The stall filled with the scratching sound of the flint wheel, rendering the girls deaf to everything beyond. Suddenly the stall door swung open, a teacher loomed over the girls with crossed arms and a contemptuous expression. "Hand it over right now!" she ordered. "We'll see what the principal has to say about this!"
They marched down the hall; Gracie and Kayleigh at the front, the teacher in back, lighter in hand. The girls looked gloomily at one another.
"Face forward. No talking," the teacher quipped. Gracie took the warning as an excuse to glance at the teacher, taking note of the lighter in her hand. She wanted it back, but mulled over the consequences. The principal's office was drawing near. Dread and anxiety swelled inside her until compulsion took over. She spun around, snatched the lighter away and ran.
"Come back here this instant, young woman!" The teacher's calls had no effect; and in a few short moments, Gracie was beyond school grounds making her way into the neighborhood.
It was only after finding cover inside a large drainage pipe below a road that it dawned on her - she was in way over her head. "Oh no. What have I done? What's so special about this dumb old thing?" She poised to throw the lighter, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She couldn't explain why she was drawn to it. "You dumb old thing! Why won't you light?" She tried the wheel again, but only got sparks. "I go through all this, and you still won't give me any fire!? I don't even know where I am. All my things are still at school. I am in big trouble." She tried again to throw the lighter, but couldn't.
A breeze came through. Gracie curled up against the wall of the pipe.
"Why am I still here? I should go home. I'm starving."
Dead leaves blew into the pipe and collected at her feet. She dozed off, and awoke when the sun was setting. Golden light and long shadows in the breeze emphasized the loneliness she now felt.