“Man, whoever the hell screwed up oughta be pounded! Do ya got any ideas ‘bout who it was, Fast Horse?” Todd asked with convincing hostility.
“Naw, but I don’t want to pound someone for a mistake. They won’t learn -- only be angry and probably try’n pound me back. Part of bein’ a firefighter is being able to give good advice... but another part is being able to take advice and criticism and learn from it. I figure if I’d seen whatever it was that happened, I would’ve given the person a chance to take the criticism like a firefighter. If he did that, he’d be able to stay on the crew. If he didn’t, he’d have to go.” Fast Horse looked at Todd and figured he’d gotten through to the young man. He now hoped to get a confession of sorts.
Todd knitted his brow and lapsed into thought. The thoughts, however, merely scratched ineffectively at the tough surface, a surface that continued to give the soft, vulnerable contents within a feeling of protection. Todd ceased his attempts at introspection and returned to posturing, “Naw, man. Me, I’d pound the mothafucker for screwin’ us up, makin’ us go home! He made a mistake and now he’s gotta pay the price. That’s the way a the world, man.” Todd put on a fierce look to match his words. For a moment, he almost forgot that it was he who had made the mistake that might have sent them home.
“Well, Todd, it’s too bad you think that. Your way of dealin’ with stuff is gonna keep people hidin’ from their mistakes, and keep ‘em from knowing what they need to work on. Man like that doesn’t really know himself, and that’s the important part. A man who doesn’t know himself isn’t good for much of anythin’. He doesn’t know what he can and can’t do. It’s like ownin’ a rifle, and not knowin’ how to use it. You won’t get a buck; you’ll prob’ly just end up hurtin’ yourself or someone else. And that’s a real waste of a good piece of metal.”
Todd sank back in the seat, bearing the weight of all that had been said. Ideas in his head crashed into each other, the resulting tremors cracking the flashy veneer of his own constructed image. The foundation heaved as if trying to rid itself of an unsound structure. Then everything became still. The destruction necessary had been too great to accept, the resulting desolation unfathomably vast.
Immediately after Todd turned his head and looked blankly out of the window, Fast Horse took out a piece of paper and ripped it into three separate pieces before writing on each one. He got up and crept down the aisle to give a piece to the three squad leaders, who smiled slightly but remained silent, trying to conceal the impact of the messages.
When they pulled into the Forest Service station, the crew groaned, slowly rose from their seats, and filed out of the yellow doors. Most walked lazily to the back, and soon packs were being ejected and passed through the firefighter’s hands to be deposited in a jagged row on the sidewalk.
Todd scurried to the phone before the task of unloading had been completed. Frank watched as Todd emerged from the station and eagerly exclaimed to Fast Horse that he was ‘ready for the next one.’ It was maddening for him to see Todd exhibit such boyish enthusiasm and inflated confidence when he wasn’t even deserving of a spot on the crew. Frank hoped Todd wouldn’t return, and would instead fade back into his urban jungle.
A bright red BMW soon pulled up in front of the crew. The boom of the car stereo rattled the windows of the nearest building. Todd, with a bag in each hand, strutted proudly over to the car. Without looking back, he got in the passenger side and closed the door, once again concealed by tinted windows, where he was most at ease.
The three squad bosses, who had been corralling their squad members, gathered expectantly around Fast Horse, smiling at each other. The rest of the crew sensed something was happening, and looked at them in anticipation.
“Well, that was easy,” Fast Horse announced, conspicuously masking his enthusiasm. He then scanned the puzzled faces turned his direction and grinned broadly. “What the hell are you all just standing there for? Saddle up! We got a fire to go to!”
Whoops and yells bounced off the hard concrete and echoed down the gray city streets. Some firefighters raised their fists in the air, others slapped the hands of their fellow crewmembers. Faces glowed with excitement as the crew moved to load the packs back onto the bus at a much faster rate than they had been unloaded.
“Squad bosses, have you kept track of all your people?” Fast Horse asked amidst the revelry.
Alaska’s smile lost its shine.
Frank looked around, hoping to see Scott’s friendly face beaming at him, and was disappointed and slightly alarmed when he didn’t find it mixed with those loading packs. He left the group and walked quickly down the street towards the center of town, frantically scanning the side alleys he passed for any sign of his partner. Scott might just be taking a piss, but Frank wasn’t taking any chances. He turned a corner and was relieved to see Scott’s large stooping frame lumbering down the sidewalk, red pack slung over his shoulder. He yelled to him, “Hey, Scott! Wait!”
Scott stopped and waited, expressionless.
Frank arrived almost out of breath and said, “Hey man, It was all a setup to get rid of Todd! We did it! We got rid of him!”
“You mean we’re not demobed?”
“Yeah, we’re demobed.” Frank’s face brightened further.
“Then why you smilin’ at me like a damn fool, Frank?”
“Because... we’ve been demobed to another fire!”
Scott straightened himself and walked past Frank and back toward the station, keeping the impact of Frank’s news inside. Frank turned and walked alongside him.
“You know, that shelter does have some drawbacks,” Scott began. “In by ten, like you was a fuckin’ kid. I mean, if they want you to become a real respectable type citizen, then they gotta treat you like one, don’ they? Fuck that place!”
“Yeah, fuck that place! Won’t need to go there for a while after this next fire, though.” Frank smiled and Scott finally returned the smile as they walked on, side by side.
Meanwhile, Alaska found Paul standing just around the corner from the station. “Hey, Earth!”
Paul clicked his music player off and looked up blankly.
“We’re going to another fire!” Alaska said, expecting the shine of his golden words to instantly brighten Paul’s dark countenance.
“I’m not,” Paul returned. “I got someone picking me up right here any minute.”
Alaska, facing the potential loss of two of his squad members, wasted no time pouncing on Paul. “Look, buddy... you signed up for this crew, and if you drop out, now we’ll be sent home with inadequate numbers! You’re stickin’ it out, you have to!”
“I don’t have to do anything,” Paul said, turning his music on again, enjoying the look of bafflement on Alaska’s face. Paul then turned away and stared straight ahead as he considered what it would be like to stay on the crew. He had felt a sort of desperation the last couple days, almost like a fish lying helpless on a river bank, unable to feel safe and secure. He longed to be back home, where he and his flashy crowd drifted sleekly past the rest. Before Alaska had approached, he had just hatched a plan to get in his four-wheel drive vehicle, head to California, and go to some music festivals with his friends; now Alaska, of all people, was trying to rip him from his dream and throw him back to flounder in the world of the fire crew.
“If you can’t take it, leave then,” Alaska said, goading him.
Paul heard the words and weakened. He tried to boost his confidence, and told himself that he could take anything if he wanted to. If he didn’t go on this dispatch, would the crew think he had been ill-equipped to go out on another fire, and slander him in his absence? He tried to tell himself he didn’t care what these people on the crew thought about him. Then he realized that if the state went up in flames this summer, as it appeared it might, his friends would question the fact that he wasn’t out on the fires. He had talked it up for months now.<
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Another thought then struck him: maybe he could grow to like the work, and become a proficient firefighter. It was an alluring notion, and he somehow knew that he needed it to be realized, but had no idea why. He tried to hold back the words, but heard himself saying, “Fine, I’ll go, if you don’t call me Earth anymore.”
“Deal!” Alaska smiled at Paul genuinely for the first time. “What is your name anyway?”
“Paul,” he said, as he brushed by Alaska to make a second phone call.
Fast Horse, standing at the front of the bus, looked down at the upturned, hopeful faces of his crew and grinned. “We’re going to a fire back a little south of where we just were. I hear it’s burnin’ pretty good.”
Murmurs of approval spilled freely out of the mouths of the crew. Frank felt his spine tingle in anticipation.
“It’s damn steep terrain... Hell, mountain goats live up where this one started. Lightning struck all around, so it’s spotty, a ‘complex’ fire, I figure. For you FNGs, that means there’ll be more than one main fire in the area.”
“So why did we come back here, anyway?”
Fast Horse looked at Scott. “Is it all right if I tell what happened yesterday out there with you ‘n Todd?”
Scott did a mental survey of the people on the bus and calculated that none were likely to see Todd again. He nodded his consent.
“Now, you all know that if I think you’re endangering the crew, you’ll either change quick or I’ll have to kick you out. Well, Todd endangered a couple of our guys out there yesterday pushin’ a snag over. He made a mistake, which we all do... even me, if you can imagine that. But Todd, he wasn’t gonna listen to anyone about it, and that just don’t work. Nobody puts themselves above the crew like that.” Fast Horse paused to let his words take effect. “I was afraid of what he’d do to me if I just sent him home. He was pretty crazy, I figured.” Fast Horse’s eyes began to shine brightly. “So I made up this whole diversion and we’re actually supposed to be on the way to another fire.”
Ripples of laughter skipped through the bus. The crew suddenly felt like a group of truants skipping school.
“To be clear, I can make a firefighter of anyone, but they need to put the crew first and admit what they don’t know. Everyone deserves a chance. But the second they put themselves first, the crew starts to erode and I needed to deal with it, like a stray calf at ropin’ time.” Fast Horse then pulled on his reins, but with less vigor than usual.
Fast Horse looked at Shroeder, who was trying to ignore the speech, leafing through his papers impatiently. “Just give him a few minutes there, Shroeder,” Fast Horse said quietly.
“Better get here soon,” Shroeder replied.
Further toward the rear of the bus, Alaska voiced his satisfaction. “Fuck, I sure won’t miss that idiot. He didn’t listen to a fucking word I said.”
“One down,” someone from Squad Two said under his breath.
As the crew continued ripping apart Todd’s character, making themselves feel whole, a lean Indian bounded up the steps with a huge smile spread between the braids that hung from the sides of his head. He was fully dressed in Nomex fire clothes and equipped with a red personal pack and a yellow fire pack slung over his shoulders. All eyes instantly scoured the intruder. “So this is the new tribal crew, huh?” he said in a deep, monotone voice and grinned disarmingly.
“Heeeeey!” Fast Horse yelled enthusiastically and got up to put a fatherly arm around the younger man. “I thought I’d have to start makin’ stuff up if you didn’t get here soon!”
The new man continued smiling and was instant in his loud retort, “Ehhey, I know that’s a lie, Fast Horse. You never stop making stuff up.”
“Shroeder, add my nephew, Mr. Derrick Buffalo, to the list!” Fast Horse said proudly.
Derrick’s red pack was quickly passed through the outstretched hands of the seated crew and deposited next to the other packs in the rear of the bus.
Chapter 9
“Fires tend to blur the separation of habitats and bring faunal species together.” (Effects of Fire on Fauna, U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service)
Frank studied the new crewmember with curiosity, and became pleased that the man would be on their squad. He seemed easygoing and genuine, a vast improvement over Todd. Frank watched and listened to Derrick and Fast Horse talk; both employed the same intonation, as if their words came from deep inside their chests. Fast Horse was the more animated of the two, with Derrick grinning calmly while his uncle filled him in on reservation gossip. But there was something unusual about the way Fast Horse was acting as he spoke. He seemed to be scrutinizing Derrick’s face for some reason, as if he was searching for reactions to his words, or perhaps evaluating a lack of reaction. Frank guessed it was part of the way these men usually interacted, and dismissed it.
Frank leaned back and smiled to himself. He was proud of his uniform once again. A picture of the days to come formed in his mind; days filled with adventure and pleasant conversation, perhaps even a debate or two with Scott to pass the time and make it all more interesting. Then there was Alice. He recognized that he yearned to know her better. The intimidation he experienced in her presence was waning, and he expected it might actually disappear entirely. Frank heard some loud banter emanating from the back of the bus and decided that even the men of Squad Two would inevitably lower their guard to become less antagonistic, less peripheral, or perhaps satisfactorily marginalized. And Alaska had to relax sometime soon, as all things must either loosen or break eventually, and leave their squad in peace as the routine of the work set in.
Frank considered that his paycheck was growing as he sat there doing nothing but thinking. He could not imagine himself in more favorable circumstances -- and all he had to do was follow orders. Others told him where to go and what to do. It was like he was a kid again, and he was looking forward to just reading from the script and not having to face the many contingencies and decisions in his daily life.
He studied the side of Shroeder’s face. A thought struck him: this fire they were going to had been caused by lightning. That meant he would once again be participating in another effort by humans to play God and put out that which should be left to run its natural course. He tried not to feel foolish about caring when nobody else did, but he was unable to abandon himself. He knew what he wanted to ask Shroeder, but hesitated. Then he spoke, feeling uneasy at the sound of his own voice. “Hey, Shroeder.” The CLO turned his head slowly. “Does the Forest Service let any fires burn these days?”
Shroeder studied Frank’s face before answering, “Not much. Yellowstone definitely made people uneasy. People weren’t willing to sit back and watch their forest burn. Can’t blame ‘em, lots of wood gets wasted too.”
“But isn’t fire all part of the natural system?”
Shroeder instantly backed into a defensive posture and examined Frank’s face before answering, “Maybe, but who wants to look at a bunch of burnt-up forests? I like a forest that’s living. Most people like it that way, don’t you?”
Frank was exasperated by Shroeder’s stance. Shroeder didn’t appear to be inclined to delve further into the subject, though he had to know there was more to it. Most people simply didn’t know better, but Shroeder was educated, and it was his job to know these things.
“I’d say that I like what’s natural,” Frank said.
“What’s natural? Hell, humans have been messin’ with forests for thousands of years. These environmentalists keep yellin’ about wanting to leave it all to nature... I went to Europe once, and they have forests with just one or two kinds of trees. Trees that make the most money and grow best, and those forests are beautiful, too. You don’t hear them bitchin’.”
Frank abandoned his diffidence and pushed himself further into the conversation. “But don’t a lot of animals and plants need a forest that’s maintained naturally?
” It was easy for him to argue against Shroeder’s stance, but it was unsettling to listen to that stance being uttered. He feared finding that Shroeder’s opinions always remained inextricably lodged in his narrow field of vision.
Shroeder looked down from his lofty position at another youth mired in idealism, likely brainwashed at a liberal university, who probably wanted to impose a useless, falsely premised, spiritually interactive relationship between man and nature on the rest of society. “We don’t need this diversity stuff,” Shroeder said, as he looked through a window across the bus from him. “And it makes a forest harder to manage anyway. What we need is to let each forest grow what grows best there and is the most profitable. Redwoods in some places, spruces somewhere else.”
“But diversity strengthens the system, I always thought. I mean, aren’t the trees and plants kind of interrelated? And what I learned was that fire helps keep it all in balance.” Frank wanted to ask rhetorical questions of Shroeder, but felt that he was wasting his time. Shroeder seemed to be ignoring him as he stared vacantly at some distant point on the horizon, seemingly mentally inert.
Frank considered that Shroeder’s carefully managed system might collapse in his lifetime, and then he and the adherents to his school of thought would be proven wrong. But then everyone would be treated the same, whether or not they were at fault. Frank decided to prod Shroeder one last time, and said in an overpolite voice, “So, Shroeder, I’ve got a question.”
When a Fire Burns Hot Page 12
