Prairie Fire

by Djuna Shellam

  “Hey, hey…” Prairie interrupted Em and gently admonished her. “We discussed this. No Christmas presents. Right? We agreed. I totally understand. I get it. No big deal. But, Em, that cane is not a Christmas present. If it was July, I would have gotten it for you, okay? The second I laid eyes on it, I knew you had to have it. I mean, I know I technically gave it to you on Christmas, but… it’s totally and completely coincidental.”

  Em scowled, her skepticism evident.

  Prairie laughed. “Come on, Em. It’s fine, okay. The best present you could ever have given me you already did by loving your cane. You… you do love it, right?”

  Em nodded, suppressing a grin.

  “Okay? Are we even then?” Prairie sat down on the edge of Em’s bed. “Hmmm…?” Prairie made a funny face to make Em laugh, which she did.

  “Okay, fine,” Em conceded with a smile. “Thank you, Prair. You’re really… too much.”

  “Eh, what can I say? I just want to see you use that thing soon, okay.” Prairie gently patted and then rubbed Em on her leg. She stood up and started to undress. “Alright, we better button it up in here so we can get up bright and early. Breakfast is at eight, and then we’ll leave for the mountain at ten. Cool?”

  Em smiled. “Cool.” She ran her hand once more along the smooth wood of her new cane before propping it against the wall next to her bed. By the time she had closed her book and snuggled down into her bed, Prairie had already changed and was shutting off the lights in their room.

  “Merry Christmas, Em,” Prairie said as she shut out the last light.

  “Merry Christmas, Prair. See you in the morning.”

  Prairie quickly crawled into bed and pulled her blankets up to her neck. She turned onto her side, toward the windows, with her back toward Em, and drew her knees up to her. She was so happy Em loved her cane. She loved it. Prairie smiled at the thought. It made her a little sad to think Em needed one, but at least she was able to walk. And knowing she had something to do with Em’s vastly improving mobility pleased Prairie beyond measure. Life was good. She loved it. Prairie smiled contentedly and immediately fell into a deep, satisfied slumber.

  SIXTEEN

  The Eagle Has Landed

  16.1—1977

  It had been over an hour since Em began waiting for Prairie to finish with her last patient. It was already thirty minutes past when Prairie should have been finished. Em tried to read a magazine that was over a year old, tossing it back onto a pile of magazines she’d already read the last many times she’d waited for Prairie. As she had every time previously, Em thought she should bring her own reading material whenever she got to Prairie’s office early, but always forgot.

  It was her twenty-second birthday, but Em hadn’t told anyone, and no one at the hospital had mentioned it all day. No one knew, and she preferred it that way. Em hated to be fussed over or noticed. She tried to remember any of her birthdays past, but none were specific in detail. They mostly seemed to blur into one another. As a young child, her parents had the requisite big Bel Air birthday parties for her; but, as the years went on, they seemed less interested in giving them, and she less interested in attending. Parties meant children she didn’t know or care for, coming over and giving her gifts she didn’t want, playing games she loathed.

  Em didn’t feel any older, and found herself thinking about the entire concept of birthdays and the passage of time; of age in general, and eventually, the meaning of life. Her mind drifted back to the only memorable birthday she’d ever had—her twenty first, when she was still whole and undamaged—and inevitably, to Alice.

  16.2—1976 Twenty One

  It was the Monday after the New Year, and Em’s twenty-first birthday. Turning twenty-one should have been a big deal, and it would have been had she been living in California, or any of the other states. As it was, Em had been on her own and in the military since shortly after turning eighteen—twenty-one was no particular milestone to celebrate. She’d been stationed in Texas for a while, and the drinking age was eighteen. As far as Em was concerned, turning twenty-one in Texas was of no particular benefit. In Italy, she’d been of legal age to drink from the moment she arrived. Twenty-one really was just another birthday with some mystical powers that held no interest or import.

  Never a party drinker, and barely a social drinker, Em grew up in a family with significant European influence, where wine was served at nearly every meal, and hard alcohol was ever-present and available. Despite what everyone thought she should do, Em had no plans to celebrate her monumental birthday by going out and getting drunk; but Alice—her roommate, best friend and secret crush—had other ideas.

  ~/~/~/~/~

  Alice’s muscle car hummed along the highway with The Doobie Brothers’ China Grove playing on an eight track tape. The winter sun had just barely set, leaving them in twilight. Alice tapped her fingers along to the music on the steering wheel.

  “C’mon, Allie, where are you taking me?” Em asked again from the passenger seat of Alice’s GTO as they sped down the highway toward town.

  “Oh now, birthday girl,” Alice laughed deviously, “don’t you know by now you don’t ask questions on your birthday? Tsk, tsk!” Alice scoffed. “Like I told you a hundred times already, it’s a surprise.” Alice looked over at Em and winked, making a clicking sound with her mouth as she did.

  Em’s insides fluttered a little. She stole a glance at Alice who practically dripped of smugness. Cold winter air from outside entered the car through Alice’s partially open window, gently whipping her long, strawberry blonde hair that hung freely down her back, giving her a sexy, mussed-up, look. She was so beautiful, Em thought, then quickly looked away and caught her breath, always taken aback at how Alice affected her. She’d loved her in silence for so long, Em was almost used to the discomfort of stuffing her feelings deep into the recesses of her being.

  “Ugh, I hate surprises, Al,” Em whined, redirecting her emotions, hoping Alice was oblivious to her secret crush. “You know I hate surprises!” she insisted passionately. “Come on, can’t you at least give me one little hint?”

  “Sure,” Alice grinned mischievously and nodded toward the road, “It’s… thataway.” She chortled, excited for Em to see the big surprise she had waiting. She knew Em came from a life of privilege, so she’d spent the previous month wracking her brain, trying to think of something special she could do for Em.

  “You’re so annoying.” Em huffed.

  “Yeah, and you love it.” Alice shook her head and smiled. “Just shush, Emmy. Really. Enjoy the ride. And anyway, it’s your birthday—you really should just chill the fuck out.”

  Em slumped in her seat and sulked. She couldn’t imagine what Alice was up to, but knowing Alice, Em was a little afraid—and excited at the same time. Alice was so much more adventurous than she could ever be, and there was no telling what thataway held in store for her. Flattered that Alice even had something up her sleeve for Em’s birthday, she sighed in resignation and watched the lines on the highway slide by as her mind whirred with speculation.

  It wasn’t long before Alice whipped the gold metallic car into the parking lot of a small, nondescript shopping center on the outskirts of San Angelo, and parked in front of what appeared to be a small bar. A thin blue neon outline of a palm tree acting as a “T” followed by the letters “ropic Nights” glowed and softly hummed above the door.

  “What are you doing, Al? What is this place?” Em asked nervously. “Is this a bar? A strip joint? I swear, Alice Hollywell, if you’re planning to get me drunk or something…” Em began to panic.

  “Oh, for the love of god, Em, will you hush already!” Alice laughed boisterously as she opened her door and began to climb out of the car. “You are the biggest worrywart party pooper I’ve ever met! Come on, birthday girl,” she coaxed mischievously, crooking her finger enticingly at Em through her open door.

  Reluctantly, Em got out of the car and with trepidation, followed Alice into the bar. The moment
the door opened, she was met by an explosive chorus of “Happy Birthdays” and “Surprise!” from a mélange of friends, neighbors, co-workers and people she didn’t know or recognize, standing just inside the door.

  Em rocked back on her heels. “Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed and looked at Alice who was absolutely beaming. “Wha… how…” Em sputtered.

  “Happy birthday, best friend,” Alice grabbed Em around her shoulder and pulled her close. “You deserve a party that’s all about you and not some bullshit New Year’s Eve combo, or some crap-ass deal at the base. Welcome to Tropic Nights! It’s as close to California as I could get you. And… you’re fuckin’ twenty-one! You’re officially an adult!” Alice squeezed Em a final time. “Let’s party! I’m gonna go order us some booze.” Alice quickly greeted everyone as she headed to the bar, leaving Em bewildered and mobbed by her well-wishers.

  Typically closed on Mondays, Alice and friends pooled their resources and convinced the owner of Tropic Nights to host a private party for Em. When they arrived it was still technically happy hour in the tropical island themed bar—two for one—prompting Alice to order enough umbrella drinks to last for hours. It took thirty minutes for all of the drinks to be made. Once they were delivered to the long table in the center of the bar, made so by lining up three eight foot tables, there was barely space for anything but drinks.

  Em walked up to the booze-filled table and and stood next to Alice who was supervising the order as the last drinks were delivered. “Isn’t this beautiful?” Alice asked, almost with wonder as she surveyed the vast array of cocktails and their colorful umbrellas.

  “That’s it, Hollywood,” the bar back said to Alice, then immediately returned to the bar.

  “Thanks, Evans!” Alice called after the bar back.

  “Wow… That’s an awful lot of booze, Allie,” Em said, her eyes wide. “Isn’t that… too much for—”

  Alice interrupted, laughing, “For this bunch? Not a chance! It might last an hour or two—if we’re lucky. Go on, Em, pick one. Pick two!”

  “I don’t even know what they are,” Em marveled.

  “Good point. Okay. Well, those pretty ones are Mai Tais, the tall blue ones are… Hurricanes? No, the blue ones are Blue Hawaiis. These pink ones in these cool curvy glasses are Hurricanes. Those are Daiquiris, I think, and these little babies are Piña Coladas. Deee-lish!”

  Em timidly reached into the middle of the drinks and pulled out one of the blue drinks.

  “Excellent choice!” Alice grabbed Em’s hand and pulled her toward the dance floor. “Let’s party!”

  ~/~/~/~/~

  Disco pounded through four large black rectangular speakers that hung above each corner of the twenty foot square dance floor. The dance floor was a foot high raised platform with white, translucent, plastic floor tiles, lighted from below. The tiles were mostly synchronized to the music, though it was difficult to tell for sure with the competition from the disco ball and the semi-synchronized light boxes strategically placed throughout the bar. Each song mixed semi-smoothly into the next. “The Bump” and “Double Bump” were popular dances, ensuring that every few songs, an unsuspecting dancer would get knocked off the dance floor by an over-exuberant or drunk dancer, followed by a minor altercation or another trip to the drink table.

  ~/~/~/~/~

  “Having fun?” Alice asked Em during a lull in dancing and a trip to the booze table.

  “Oh, man, Allie, this is the best birthday party I’ve ever had,” Em exclaimed, slightly slurring her words as she was already four umbrellas in, two of which were haphazardly stuck in her hair. “How did you get everyone… I mean, who are all these other people? And this place…” Em looked around her, still in awe of the turnout.

  “Well… of course all our friends from the apartments are here; and, I work in Supply, right? So everyone on base has to come to me for something eventually. I know a lot of people. Hell, I know everyone. And when I told them my best friend was turning twenty-one and I wanted to do something special, they were all over it. I mean… mention a party on a Monday night, and… wow!” Alice laughed.

  “And, I know a guy in Communications,” she looked around the bar. “That guy,” she pointed to a medium height, dark-haired young man standing at the bar, having an animated conversation with the bartender, “You met him and I think you were dancing with him earlier. Hemmett. His name is Bill Hemmett. His old boss, Vernon the bartender, actually, that guy he’s talking to, retired last year and bought this place, and…” Alice stopped and winked at Em. “Ha! That’s all I’m gonna tell you, birthday girl. Geez, already. Stop asking questions and just have fun.” Donna Summer’s “Love To Love You, Baby” entered the music mix. “Come on, let’s find someone to dance with us. Oh, there’s Mitch and Billy Boy! Whoohoo! I totally dig this song.”

  ~/~/~/~/~

  Em didn’t remember a lot of the friends of Alice’s she’d met, but it didn’t matter. She felt certain she’d danced with each and every one in the place, including Alice, at least five times, and loved every minute of it. Every minute that she remembered, anyway.

  It was official—thanks to Alice, Em had gotten drunk on her twenty-first birthday. There was a certain point in the evening when the memories just stopped. She didn’t remember them getting hustled out of the bar at two in the morning, didn’t remember throwing up in the parking lot or on the side of the road twice, or getting back to the base, and she certainly didn’t remember Alice holding her hair while she barfed in a waste can over the side of her bed. Everything between her fifth umbrella drink—of every kind—and waking up to her alarm clock the next morning at six a.m., was a barfing blur.

  While most of her twenty-first birthday bash was a night she would never forget, the day after was a day she wished she could. Em had never been hungover in her life, nor had she ever had to work while being hungover. If only that lesson had had a more lasting effect, everything would be different.

  16.3—1977 She’s Here!

  “She’s here! She’s just now parking,” Macie announced, peering out from behind the dining room curtains as she gave a blow by blow of Dot’s arrival. “Ooooooh, she’s got someone with her—a woman,” she squealed.

  “No, really?” Barbie queried as she rushed over to the window. “Who is that?” she asked Macie, puzzled, and then asked Gwen, who was in the kitchen cooking, “Honey, did Prairie say Dot was bringing anyone?”

  “Nothing to me, love,” Gwen answered from the kitchen, then entered the dining room, wiping her hands on her apron, and headed to the front door. “A friend of Em’s we don’t know about… maybe? Doesn’t matter. The more the merrier, eh? Macie, do me a favor, honey… would you give Prairie a ring and tell her the coast is clear? And set another place at the table?”

  “Sure thing, Lovey,” Macie replied, then headed for the kitchen wall phone.

  “I’ve got to run upstairs and change my shirt,” Barbie said, rushing out of the dining room. “I’ll be right back.”

  Gwen opened the front door and watched the two women walk up the sidewalk and onto the porch. Both women were dressed smartly, professionally. Dot wore tailored grey slacks with a starched white, tailored shirt and Cordovan penny loafers. A small matching Coach bag hung on her shoulder. She was tall and lanky with straight medium brown hair peppered with grey, parted down the middle, that fell just past her shoulders. Her posture was impeccable. She had an air of incredible self-confidence, immediately impressing Gwen.

  Ivey James, Dot’s companion, was about five inches shorter than Dot, but her two inch pumps gave the impression she was closer to Dot’s 5’11” height than she actually was. She looked to be a few years younger than Dot, and was more substantial in the weight category. Not obese, but pleasantly plumpish in the hips and a little around the middle. Ivey, too, wore a tailored shirt, light blue; but instead of slacks, she wore an A-lined black skirt and also carried a small, black purse. Ivey’s bobbed hair was dominated by a white streak in the otherwise strawbe
rry blonde.

  “You must be Dot,” Gwen said, holding her hand out to Dot as she and Ivey approached the door. “Welcome! We’ve heard so much about you,” Gwen said as she shook Dot’s hand. “I’m Gwen.”

  “Hello Gwen, so nice to meet you,” Dot replied with her best southern drawl. “This is my friend, Ivey James. I hope you don’t mind me bringing her along. I tried to call Prairie when we left, but she was in a meeting.” Dot felt awkward about bringing Ivey, but she wanted Em to meet her. “I know this is a terrible imposition…”

  “I can always come back later,” Ivey offered, her concern about crashing the party evident on her face.

  “No, no… don’t be silly. It’s not a problem at all,” Gwen smiled invitingly. “There’s plenty of food, and it’s a party! Welcome to our home, Ivey.”

  “Thank you,” Ivey said, slightly embarrassed, but with a warm smile, “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  Gwen stood to the side and waved them into the house. “Please, come on in and I’ll introduce you to everyone. Prairie and Em should be here in…” she glanced at her watch, “about an hour and a half, if traffic isn’t too terrible. Prairie didn’t want to beat you here and spoil the surprise.”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” Dot replied with a silky drawl and a smile. While she was looking forward to seeing Em again and seeing all the progress she’d been hearing about, she was also eager to meet and get to know the people who had taken her in.