This area of the burn differed markedly from that of the previous day, in that large groups of charred trees that once made up the forest still stood, skeletonlike. The remaining branches of those that had burned alive all curved skyward, testifying to the upward surge of violence the trees faced in their final moments. Many of those that had been dead before the fire now lay on their sides, scattered like toothpicks on the ground; some, however, remained standing, presenting the firefighters with what was likely to be the day’s greatest danger.
Most of the green members of the crew gazed on, slightly awestruck. Todd, however, scanned his surroundings through lowered eyelids with apparent confidence.
The crew neared a large tree burning halfway up its trunk.
“Widowmaker, heads up! Bump it down.”
“Widowmaker, heads up! Bump it down.”
“Widowmaker, heads up!”
Following Fast Horse, the crew veered off the track for a moment to keep out of harm’s way of the burning tree, which was brightly festooned with red skull-and-crossbones flagging that read: killer tree.
Todd laughed contemptuously.
The crew paused at a holding tank that two people from a Forest Service engine crew had unfolded and filled with two hundred gallons from a thousand-gallon tender parked nearby. Two young Forest Service regulars were waiting calmly for the crew to assemble so they could start the portable pump at their feet. Once started, the pump would suck water through a hose that ran into the folding tank, and push it out of another hose of equal size. This central hose, or ‘mainline,’ ran down the cat line, around the bend, and out of sight. It was from the mainline, at each ‘gated Y’, a fitting which was added to the junction of two coupled hoses, that hoses would run into the burn.
Fast Horse stood in full view of the waiting crewmembers and addressed them: “I want a pair from Squad Three to start here, running one-inch laterals into the burn.” He pointed to a connected gated-Y lying immediately in front of him. “They’ll be taking the first one and just keep dropping pairs at each Y on down the line... Keep adding fifty feet sections of hose as you need ‘em. Alaska, we’ll start the pump when your squad’s ready and then everybody else can open their Ys whenever they’re hooked up. Remember, squad bosses, check to make sure each pair is all hooked up before you let any water down a lateral. Also, don’t unroll the hoses on top of anything hot when they don’t have water in ‘em. Some people might be new to this game, and a little double-checking is a good idea for now. All right, any questions? ... Then let’s do it!”
By order of Alaska, Squad Three remained clustered in a group. The rest of the crew marched forward and began losing members as it progressed. “Frank, you and Scott bump over to the first one,” Alaska began. “Earthboy, you and Todd take the one after that.” Alaska scrutinized the men’s faces for signs of discontent, but such signs were wisely kept hidden. “And me and Alice...” Alaska paused and eyed Alice flirtatiously. “We’ll go play with my big hose... er... that big hose over there.” Alaska continued to eye Alice and smiled thinly.
Paul and Todd both laughed, Todd being the louder of the two.
Alaska, seeing that he had a receptive audience, prepared to take his joke one step further, but he looked over at Alice and couldn’t get the words out. Alice’s jaw had tightened, and she shot Alaska a look communicating only hatred. “That’s not funny at all,” she said, shaking her head slowly.
At this comment, Todd laughed louder. He and Alaska eyed each other like brothers enjoying a joke played on their sister. Alaska turned to Alice and slapped her lightly on the shoulder, hoping to rouse some goodwill toward himself. “Aw, I was just kiddin’.” He appeared genuine in his apology.
“I wasn’t,” Alice said with in steely voice. She turned, tightly gripping her Pulaski, and walked down the cat track.
Alaska, with a wide-open stride, sauntered, seemingly carefree, down the track after her. “I’ll be up here if you need me,” he said nonchalantly to those behind him.
“Okay, ‘Laska,” Todd yelled back eagerly, still smiling, as if his toughened skin had suddenly been shed, exposing the young boy long trapped within.
Frank dared to allow his face to display contempt for both men, but neither looked in his direction, and he remained silent. He felt the urge to jump to Alice’s defense, but knew he wouldn’t. He told himself that even if he could somehow find the courage, it would be foolish to take such a stand against men like Todd and Alaska.
Frank turned away, silently lifted a fifty-foot section of hose, unrolled it with a bowling motion and a flip of his wrist, and a little added help from Scott, and attached it to their Y on the mainline. After a cursory search, Frank saw that the first smoke was within the hose’s fifty-foot range, and decided that an additional section was not yet needed. Scott noted Frank’s decision and screwed the nozzle on the hose’s end before yelling, “Ready!”
“Who’s ready?” Alaska yelled back, his voice dripping with condescension. He knew who had yelled but wanted to establish proper procedure. Scott tightened his jaw slightly and, after a few seconds delay, yelled back, “Scott and Frank are ready.”
“All right, go ahead and open your Y.”
Frank returned from his task and stepped up next to Scott. “Man, that Alaska sure is an asshole, huh?”
“Yeah, he just won’ leave nobody alone. Always in someone’s shit.”
“That was screwed up what he just did to Alice.”
“If I was Alice an’ he was laughin’ at me like that, I’da taken that Pulaski an’ sliced his fuckin’ head open.”
Frank was surprised to hear a man with such a docile demeanor voice such hostility. He was even more surprised to hear himself say, “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind seeing that.” He then put himself back on track. “We should probably talk to him an’ tell him that’s not cool... I mean, he won’t keep his job long acting like that. Probably different up there in Alaska.”
Scott looked at him in lazy disbelief. “Let ‘im figure it out himself.” Scott then changed expressions, leaned toward Frank, and said in a deep, serious voice, “That gangbanger...”
“Todd?”
“Yeah, him. He’s the scary motherfucker. I tell you what he is: he’s a cornered animal ready to chew someone up if they get anywheres near ‘im... He don’ belong on this crew, I’m tellin’ you.” Scott shook his head gravely. His lips tightened, and he looked into Frank’s eyes so intensely that it startled him.
Frank laughed uneasily.
Scott continued, “He don’ know what he’s doin’, an’ he ain’ never gonna leave them streets. I know what I’m sayin’. Stay cleara him, you got me?”
“Yeah... okay.” Scott’s words made an impression on Frank, but he still managed to convince himself that his partner was being uncharacteristically over-dramatic. And somewhere inside, he held the notion that Scott had been driven to speak as he had by a desire to appear an authority on a subject, something he figured Scott rarely had the opportunity to do.
Frank looked over at Paul, and then at Todd, who was connecting two sections of hose already laid out to reach their first smoke lying comparatively far from the line. The forester nozzle, Frank noticed, had already been attached to the end of the second hose. As he came closer to see if could offer any help, Paul bent over Todd intrusively. Frank stopped abruptly, just within earshot. Tension hovered in the air, and he decided to remain uninvolved as he backed away toward his own hose-lay.
“Like, I really think you should be connecting it this way, man.” Paul enunciated every word in careful. measured tones, as if he were talking to a child.
“I know what the fuck I’m doin’, just stand back and gimme some room!”
“Hey, Todd. You all hooked up?” Alaska yelled from a distance.
“Yeah!... all ready, ‘Laska!” Todd called out as he continued to try and force the two wrongly-threaded hose ends clos
er together. He aimed an intimidating glare at Paul, who backed away slightly but remained standing by like a dully suspicious jailer.
“Squad One’s ready,” Alaska called over the radio, after opening the valve to the pair’s lateral.
There soon came sounds of a person yanking on the pull-cord of the pump. Several times the old pump sputtered as it tried to start, only to fall silent. “Its gonna blow apart as soon as the pump starts and you’re gonna waste a lot of water, man!” Paul scolded with a slight smirk, in some ways pleased that Todd was being so pigheaded.
“Man, shut up! I know how these things work!” Todd snapped.
“Here, we’ve got to do it quick! Let me do it... don’t be an idiot!”
Todd heard the sputtering noise from the pump transform itself into a loud, steady drone. He dropped the improperly connected hose and rushed to its end. He soon stood boldly, feet apart, holding the empty, drooping nozzle in his hand, prepared for a powerful surge of water.
Paul backed up halfway to the mainline, eyeing Todd with contempt. Both men looked at the mainline simultaneously and saw that it was full of water. Each was mystified as they scanned their flaccid lateral.
“What the fuck!?” Todd said, and again looked at the mainline in disbelief. Both men then took a step sideways to get a look at where their Y attached to the taut mainline. They stiffened when they saw Fast Horse kneeling next to it, staring squarely at them. It quickly registered that he had shut off their valve. Paul remained on guard as Fast Horse approached him. “I told him, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” Paul said.
Fast Horse offered a cool look. “There were other ways to do it, I’m sure, there always are,” he said, and then brushed by Paul enroute to Todd’s position. He said nothing on arrival, but stared into Todd’s eyes with steady severity, waiting for Todd to speak.
“He kept tryin’ ta fuck me up!” Todd said, and searched Fast Horse’s face for signs of agreement, though he already sensed his lie hadn’t passed the test.
Fast Horse kept his temper under tight rein, but not his level of disapproval. “Todd, the only one that’s fuckin’ you up is you,” he said. “If you’re not totally sure how to do something, then ask someone who is. Don’t just assume you can do it. We all learn that way, and you’re no different than the rest of us. Remember that, and you’ll make a good firefighter.”
“But I know howta...”
Fast Horse’s stern voice cut Todd off. “Look, I don’t care what you know or don’t know. We’re out here to get a job done, not to prove to the next person that you know somethin’.”
Todd became distraught, but managed to appear only despondent. From the beginning, he had desperately wanted to achieve a certain type of understanding between him and Fast Horse. He had wanted his boss to see that they were both leaders, and that it was right for each to give the other a measure of respect. Now, the hole he had suddenly fallen into was getting deeper, and he couldn’t find an excuse that he could use to pull himself out. He had to regain his composure. Recklessly, he reached for the first comment that leapt into his mind and held onto it tightly, without thought to the sureness of its anchor. “I don’t need to prove nothin’ to this crew,” he said.
Fast Horse watched Todd in silent sorrow. “You’re right. Just to yourself,” he said as a requiem. But then, somewhere inside, there popped up a spark of hope. “I tell you what, Todd, I think it might be better if I switch you. You’ll be workin’ with Frank. He’s got experience. It’s better if you work with him so you can learn more. We really shouldn’t have put two newbies together like we did here.” Fast Horse paused, but his eyes remained focused on Todd. “He knows what he’s doing out here, and you can learn a lot from him.” Fast Horse then turned and glided over to Alaska, informing him of the switch.
Todd trudged towards Scott, who was contentedly spraying a light mist of water on a log out of which Frank had just finished scraping burning coals. “Fast Horse says you and me switch, brother,” Todd announced.
Scott looked up as weariness flooded his face. He turned the hose nearly off with a slow twist and, reluctantly, let it fall to the ground. “Man, that sucks,” Scott mumbled, before slowly making his way over to Paul.
“Sure does,” Frank agreed solemnly, before Scott was out of earshot. Frank tried not to care too much about the turn of events, but he knew he would miss working with Scott, and the prospect of working with Todd for days on end further dimmed his spirits. He picked up the hose and continued Scott’s work; he wasn’t going to let Todd try to monopolize the easier and more satisfying of the two tasks.
While Frank stood monitoring the wet log, after having shut off the hose, Todd took Frank’s Pulaski, leaving Frank the shovel. After deciding that the log was cold, Todd dragged the hose to another downed log with smoke drifting out its gaping end. Frank ended his watch and stepped over toward Todd. He squatted so as to examine the new log, and the instant he stood and stepped back, Todd approached from behind, raised the Pulaski over his head, and brought the axe blade down mightily upon the log’s smoking end. Frank hadn’t anticipated that Todd would swing without warning and had been standing dangerously close, but he said nothing.
Todd’s head filled quickly with the excitement of performing a task that was new to him, particularly one that involved using his raw strength. He hadn’t worked with his hands much, and he enjoyed the feeling of putting his muscles to a constructive use. He took pleasure in the heavy, solid feel of the dangerous tool. But he was unable to fully satisfy himself. When he slammed the blade down several times in rapid succession, the wood was only dented. He looked puzzled and examined the blade more closely before dropping it in preparation to resume swinging.
Frank had begun to approach the log again but retreated, seeing that Todd planned to continue with his labors. Todd swung the tool as before, hitting the same spot with a heavy thud, and again the blade bounced off its chosen point of impact without chipping any wood off the log’s end. Todd hastily followed up with several more aggressive blows, each landing perpendicular to the grain of the wood and accomplishing nothing. Frank could see instantly that Todd had never chopped into a log, but refrained from instructing him to strike at more of an angle. He feared correcting his new partner, and hoped that Todd would figure it out for himself.
Finally, Todd stood still in defeat, glaring at the log with consternation.
“It’s okay, we can still probably get it if we just scrape out the coals,” Frank said.
Todd silently followed Frank’s advice and scraped some embers out of the inside of the log, several times nearly striking his leg with the grub end of the Pulaski. Frank feared Todd might injure himself with the dangerously sharp edge.
As soon as Todd completed his task, Frank sprayed down the coals and the log and then stood watching to make sure only white steam, and not bluish-colored smoke, wafted upwards. After poking his nose into the log’s end, he suggested to Todd that they move on to the next hot spot, a hollow log the width of a person’s body with fire burning deep inside. Frank handed Todd the hose once they approached the log, and seized the chance to demonstrate how to put a Pulaski to proper use. After yelling, “Swinging!” he repeatedly chopped into the log at an angle, launching small chips of smoking wood into the air. Todd used the hose and began lightly spraying the chips where he found them. Frank stopped chopping and put his face close to the smoking hole. “Hey, Todd, straight stream inside the log there for a second.” Frank tried to sound humble in his command.
“But Fast Horse said no straight streamin, ‘member?” Todd wrinkled the corners of his eyes.
“We have to here. Fast Horse meant that we shouldn’t do it on the ground or when it’s not necessary but we can’t fog inside this log, the water won’t reach that far doing it that way. And we don’t have any saws today to cut the log end off.” Frank spoke as plainly and calmly as he could, wisely resisting the urge to s
ound condescending.
Todd looked puzzled as he adjusted the nozzle, achieving different combinations of fog and straight stream until, to his surprise, one solid clear stream of water shot fast and hard out its end.
“In here! We can’t do that long, it’ll waste water,” Frank said.
Todd poked his rigid hose through the smoke into the open end of the log. From deep inside, where the water met the coals, there came a small, eruptive roar. A cloud of steam shot back out and rushed upwards over Todd’s stiff upper body. Seconds later, the flow of steam was greatly reduced, but still Todd sprayed. The look on his face clearly showed he found the power and volume involved in straight streaming to his liking. A pernicious grin sprang to life as he bent down to watch the water smash into the burnt log’s insides.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
Todd acted as if he hadn’t heard Frank’s words and continued blasting the log.
“All right, Todd, we got it now.” Frank tried not to come across as being angry.
Todd finally deigned to respond, “It’s not all out yet.”
“Okay, if it’s not I’ll get the rest.”
“Fine, more work for you,” Todd said, and shrugged violently before reluctantly turning the hose off.
“Yeah, but it really sucks when we run out of water,” Frank said softly. He examined the log’s inside for glowing red spots, knowing that even one little coal could reignite the entire log hours or days later. He removed his glove and gingerly placed his bare hand inside to feel around. It was warm but not hot. He stepped back, continuing to study the log. “Let’s just sit on it a minute and make sure no smoke comes out. It was burning pretty deep in there.”
Todd readied the hose to blast the log again but Frank put out his hand and said, “It’s okay, you probably got it pretty good the first time.”
Todd wrinkled his forehead and grudgingly removed his fingers from the nozzle’s lever.
Frank took out his tobacco can, snapped the lid several times, and put a pinch into his mouth.
When a Fire Burns Hot Page 8
