A Dish Best Served Cold

The sun was high. It hit the kindergarten playground. It was a golden light on Sarah’s sandcastle, Castle Sparklehoof. She saw it as a fortress. It had seashell turrets. A moat, dug with care, held water from the dripping fountain. A popsicle stick made a drawbridge. Sarah, five years old, knelt before it. A queen, watching her kingdom.

Her subjects were plastic dinosaurs. A one-eyed teddy, Bartholomew. They stood guard.

"Here," she told Bartholomew, adjusting his ear, "is where the dragon will fall. Princess Sarah will vanquish it. Her steed, Glitter Socks, will help."

Glitter Socks, pink and sparkly, was ready.

A shadow fell. Not a cloud.

It was Ares.

He was large. A small, unstoppable force. His name meant destruction. He was five. He brought chaos. He chased a butterfly. Blue, it danced near Sarah's castle.

"Look, Sarah!" Ares shouted. His voice was joy. It was unburdened. It made Sarah fear.

"It's a super fast butterfly!"

Sarah’s eyes, usually still, narrowed. She knew this story. The butterfly would move. Ares would follow. Something good would break.

"Ares, no!!" she screamed.

Too late.

He tripped. Like a rhino, clumsy and fast. His small combat boots landed. Hard. On the drawbridge. Sand, shells, Glitter Socks flew. The main tower, hours of work, crumbled. A sad pile. Bartholomew, the teddy, facedown in the dry moat.

Silence. Deep. It filled the sandbox. The butterfly, done with its work, flew away.

Ares, still on the ground, looked up. His brow was furrowed. Confused.

"Oops," he said. A grain of sand on his nose.

Sarah watched. Her castle. Beautiful. Perfect. Gone. Ruined.

She wanted to scream. To bury him in the sand. But Sarah, at five, was smart. She knew how to hurt.

Revenge. Cold. Planned.

Forgiveness. A soft word. Weak. It floated in her mind. Miss Lily, the teacher, spoke of it. "It sets you free, Sarah," she would coo. Her eyes held zen. But what good was freedom if your castle was dust?

No. Forgiveness was for people who didn't understand. Not when a tiny god wore combat boots and brought ruin.

Ares stood. Slowly.

"Are you okay, Sarah?" he asked.

He meant it. He was a god, yes, the God of War. But young. Like a well-meaning dog.

Sarah's eyes were not on her body. They were on the broken kingdom. A plan began. Dark. Sweet.

First: The Silent Treatment

Miss Lily said it was bad. It hurt without words. Perfect. Sarah turned her back. A dramatic move. She began to pick up the seashells. Slow. Each one a piece of her heart.

Ares hovered. "Sarah? What's wrong?"

No answer. Just the click of a shell. Into a pile.

The silence lasted. Seven minutes. Ares lost interest. He went to see a worm. Sarah stayed firm. This was just the start. The real show would come. She knew the world watched. Or at least the playground.

Next: Strategic Snitching

Snack time came. Miss Lily gave out goldfish crackers. Sarah raised her hand. Solemn. Like a lawyer.

"Yes, Sarah?" Miss Lily smiled. She saw no trouble.

"Miss Lily," Sarah began. Her voice low. Sad.

"Ares... he... he destroyed my sandcastle."

She paused on "destroyed." Let the sadness sink in. She sniffled. Just a bit.

Miss Lily’s smile faded. She looked at Ares. He stacked goldfish on his nose. He didn't know.

"Oh, sweetie, I’m sure he didn’t mean to."

Sarah’s eyes grew wide. Injustice.

"He did mean to! He ran right over it! And he didn’t even say sorry!" A lie. Ares said "Oops." Not enough. Not for a god. Not for a sandcastle.

Miss Lily sighed. She knew this fight. She tried to make peace. Sarah stopped it. She wouldn't look at Ares.

"Ares," Miss Lily said. "Can you tell Sarah you’re sorry for accidentally breaking her sandcastle?"

Ares, his goldfish tower shaking, mumbled, "Sorry, Sarah."

His apology was real. For a five-year-old god. But it wasn't enough. Not for Sarah.

Sarah stayed still. Not enough. Too much hurt. He thought a human apology would do. He didn't know. He didn't know the wrath of a queen.

Days passed. The campaign grew. Subtle. Escalating. Sarah had imagination. A sharp mind. She began. Covert.

Operation: The Missing Crayon

Art time. Ares loved the cerulean crayon. He called it dragon fire. It was always gone. Sarah knew where. In her smock pocket. Waiting. To make him mad. She’d bring it out later. When he’d given up. A sweet smile.

"Oh, were you looking for this, Ares?"

His god-patience was thin. For art.

Operation: The Unattainable Swing

Sarah was small. But she was fast. She took the tire swing. Always before Ares.

"Mine!" she’d shout. Across the playground.

Then she’d swing. Wild. High. Like a circus star.

He watched. Fuming. A small god-storm. His combat boots scuffed the ground.

Operation: The Mysterious Sneaker

Untying. It happened. Twice.

Ares was playing tag. Close to winning. His laces came undone. He fell. His combat boots. Usually strong. Failed him.

Sarah skipped away. Humming. About clouds.

No one saw her. But everyone knew. Even for a god, tying laces was hard. He thought it was a god-trick. He couldn't prove it.

The best revenge came at naptime. Miss Lily played soft music. Mozart. To make them sleep. Sarah found the CD player. The volume knob. Miss Lily was busy. Finding a blanket. Sarah moved. Like a ninja. To the player.

She took out Mozart. Put in her own CD. She "accidentally" brought it. "The Ultimate Party Anthems for Toddlers, Vol. 3." It had "The Wiggle Wobble Dance." And "If You’re Happy and You Know It (and You REALLY Want to Shout It!)."

The first notes. High. Loud. "The Hokey Pokey." It hit the quiet room. Children woke. Some laughed. Some cried. No one slept. Miss Lily’s eyes wide. Horror. She ran. Too late. Naptime. Broken. Even Ares, who hated naps, felt it. His dream of gummy bears. Gone. By toddler screams. He heard his boots click. He was annoyed.

Sarah faked sleep. A tiny smile. She won.

Ares, his cookie-mining dream gone, sat up. His brow creased. He looked at Sarah. She was an angel. But he saw it. A hint of knowing. He was five. He was a god. He knew war. He knew how to hit back. He knew the sound of a block hitting blocks.

He said nothing. He picked up a block. Slow. Deliberate. He smiled. He threw it. At a pile of blocks.

BOOM!!

Ares looked at Sarah. Sarah looked at Ares.

The war. It was not over.

Miss Lily wondered if she should get earplugs.

And a therapist.