When a Fire Burns Hot

by Corey Richard

  “Not my fault.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said, smiling.

  “We moved up there when I was in high school. Like you, I found being new in a cliquish high school really sucked for the first year or two.”

  Alice felt sympathy for the boy Frank had been. He seemed slightly shy and had a sympathetic manner. He also appeared likable and considerate, and she knew that didn’t count for much in high school, where adolescents jockeyed for position in the limelight by attracting as much attention to themselves as possible. The inner qualities that mattered were hidden in Frank, but their existence was apparent. They probably accounted for the strength she sensed in his character. Alice checked herself. No one showed all their sides at first. “So, what do you want to do when you graduate?” she asked.

  Frank strained to find an answer. “I’m not sure. I guess that makes me like just about everybody else our age.”

  “That’s the truth.”

  “I guess if I had my choice, I’d just travel to different places and countries, and once I found the perfect place, I’d just stay there.” Frank knew that he had failed in his attempt to appear different from his peers.

  Alice had thought about traveling the world herself at times. She was surprised to find that she was drawn to Frank in more ways than she could have supposed. “You’ll have to travel a long time, then, I think,” Alice said.

  “Sometimes it seems that way.” Frank looked disconsolate. “I guess I do want to make something of myself, though, you know what I mean?”

  “Yeah. I think you’ll be good at whatever you do.” Alice enjoyed hearing herself be so familiar with a man she barely knew. There was something more to it than she could readily identify. She wasn’t accustomed to this feeling; she usually put men off. Not at first, but soon enough.

  “Yeah? Well, thanks.” Frank was more than ready to return the compliment. “So what are you planning to do with your life, Alice?”

  “Well, someday I want to have a ranch, but not the one I grew up on. One where battered women can come and be safe. It’s my dream, anyway. A place where they can work and become part of something new until they get the confidence to get on with their lives. Kind of a woman’s colony, like the Shakers. Ever heard of them?”

  “No.”

  “That’s cause they’re almost all dead. Only women were allowed.” Alice laughed. “I guess men are good for something.” Alice swatted Frank’s arm playfully.

  Frank found himself laughing with Alice, and said with sincerity, “That sounds like a great plan, Alice.”

  “Ranching is hard work, but I know I could do it. All the money I make will go into a piece of land. Once I’ve got enough to get that, I can get started, slowly building it up into something workable.”

  Frank was impressed. Such a bold plan required so much responsibility, and he sensed Alice could make it work. She appeared extremely capable. She also appeared to know what she was made of. Frank nodded his head. “That sounds incredible. I’d sure like to visit when it gets going.”

  “You’d be more than welcome to,” Alice said, betraying her original intentions to have only women there at all times. “Shit, I wish there wasn’t such a need for a place like that. I’m just trying to do my small part.”

  Frank grew warm. Alice was right. “Yeah, I guess that is what it’s all about,” he said slowly.

  There was another pause in the conversation. Frank looked over at a small green patch in the burn. A small flame was trying to get hold of a pine branch lying on its edge. Needles popped as they burnt. The flame then fanned out gradually and became a small mob, burning light, wispy moss on top of the ground until enough heat was generated to ignite the whole branch at once. The branch was quickly spent, and the flames died a fast death. Frank took a deep breath and then stared at the distant plume in awe.

  Derrick left where he had been sitting next to Paul, who was clandestinely listening to his music, and approached Alice and Frank. “Thought I’d come over and introduce myself. My name is Derrick,” he said.

  “I’m Alice.”

  “Frank.”

  Derrick offered his gloved hand, unsure if of what was expected of him. Alice quickly shook it and flashed her smile at him.

  Frank next shook Derrick’s hand and smiled, at the same time both relieved and resentful that his one-on-one conversation with Alice had come to an end.

  “And that’s Scott over there,” Frank said.

  Frank looked up at Derrick as he sat down. At first glance, Derrick looked as young as he, but Frank noticed the lines around Derrick’s eyes and decided that he was probably in his mid-thirties. Derrick looked as if he would be at ease around anyone, relaxed and personable the instant you first met him, always maintaining that effortless reserve. Derrick had sat down next to the pair as if they were expecting him, solid with pride and confidence. Frank was sure he had never met anyone like him.

  “So you fought fires on the old crew?” Alice asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve fought fires for a buncha summers.”

  For a moment, Frank reveled in the justness of Todd being replaced by someone like Derrick, who seemed to belong on the crew and was probably much more deserving of the job. “Do you miss the old crew?” Frank asked.

  “Oh yeah, there were some good years...”

  Frank studied Derrick’s face for signs of wistfulness, but Derrick revealed none.

  “Firefighting hasn’t changed much,” Derrick said, without a trace of arrogance or selfeffacement.

  Alice was about to say something, but saw that Frank had readied a question and looked at him fondly while he spoke.

  “So you’re from the same reservation as Fast Horse?” Frank hadn’t met many Native Americans, and was excited by the opportunity to ask some questions of one.

  “Yeah I grew up on the Res.”

  “So you got sick of it?” Frank asked, immediately after Derrick finished his sentence.

  Derrick paused, surprised by Frank’s question. It was a rare thing for him to encounter curiosity directed at himself, especially in such an extracting manner, but he approached the question without suspicion, trying to enjoy Frank’s genuine interest. “Well, I did need to run wild for a while. See what was out there.”

  Frank tried in vain to imagine the sedate man running wild.

  “But I went back.”

  “Do a lot of young people go back after leaving?”

  “Some, I guess. A lot don’t, though.”

  Frank found no trace of regret. “So you just now came from the reservation?”

  Derrick smiled, and without losing any composure said, “I just now came from the pen.”

  “Oh...”

  Alice had to keep herself from laughing at the look on Frank’s face.

  Frank was struck by his fear that he had dug up a piece of information Derrick had wanted to keep secret. He didn’t know what to say, but once again seized the opportunity to learn about something he knew little about. Derrick didn’t appear upset or emotional in any way, Frank decided, so he tried to start a conversation about Derrick’s experience.

  “I bet that was a drag, huh?”

  “Yeah, but doin’ time is pretty easy. You just stick with your own kind, you know?” Derrick thought this was common knowledge, but read Frank’s face and saw there was a need for an explanation. “Indians all stick with Indians, so you’re pretty safe. The rest is just doin’ your time.” Derrick eyed Frank and then Alice. His face dropped some of its stoicism. “But some of the people you have to hang out with are hard to deal with. Child molesters, rapists. I never hung around anyone on the Res like that. People get messed up in jail, too. I saw grown men turn into children and children turn into big-time criminals. I was only in there because I got arrested for sellin’ a little bag of grass to the wrong gal when I was drunk. Had to do a year for it.”<
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  Frank was incensed. “That’s not right. Does the tribe really care about that?”

  “No, but on the Res the Feds deal with drug stuff sometimes, and they’ll put you away. Had to do a year, and I was married with kids. Now we’re talkin’ divorce. Well, we would be, if we were talkin’.” Derrick sensed that Alice and Frank felt bad for him, and he didn’t like it. He decided to change the subject of the conversation. “That was pretty smooth how Fast Horse pulled that demob trick on that guy who was here before me, huh?”

  “Sure was,” Frank said.

  “Fast Horse is your uncle?” Alice asked.

  “Sure is,” Derrick said with pride. Derrick was beginning to feel uncomfortable being the center of attention, and thought of a story to tell to take the focus off of himself. “He did the same thing once before... fake a demob like that. It was a long time ago.”

  Frank and Alice listened closely.

  Seeing he had secured his audience, Derrick continued: “There was this big ol’ Indian who came along once and said he’d fought fires before. We were short on firefighters, and most were pretty green, so Fast Horse made him squad boss. We all figured out pretty quick that he was kinda rotten inside, but later on he really proved it.

  “He was from a people that Fast Horse an’ me don’ get along with. Our tribes never have liked each other. It goes way back, and we never should have been put to live so close together. Lots of times there are fights between kids from these two tribes for no reason. Just the way it is. But Fast Horse and me didn’t care about all that too much. Still, I didn’t like this guy.

  “Anyway, it didn’t take long before people in his squad started bitchin’ about him and the way he did things, ‘cause this guy was a real asshole. And this guy, he wanted to stop that bitchin’ as soon as it started. He made things worse for all of ‘em... you know, makin’ ‘em do stupid shit an’ always yellin’ at ‘em. Finally, Fast Horse said he didn’t like his men treated that way. Fast Horse was kind of a fighter in those days and he and this guy got ready to square off one day. This Indian was mean, I tell you. So just when they was about to fight, he stepped forward and turned his back to Fast Horse. Now we’re all thinkin’, what the hell is this guy turnin’ his back for? Then he pulled his shirt down and on his back was these tattoos of four big feathers and outline of a fifth.”

  Derrick rocked back and laughed at the memory of his fright.

  “See, where this guy is from, each feather stands for someone you’ve killed. Probably got em made in the pen. So this guy turned around and looked Fast Horse in the eye and said, ‘You seen that feather outline on my back? You fuck with me, and I’ll just go back and get it filled in!’ And he meant it, too. Fast Horse probably would’ve been someone this guy would’ve bragged about killin’ for a long time. Then this guy, he yells back to the rest of the crew: “If any of you fuckers try an’ get me sent home, just remember, you’ll be out here and I’ll be back in Portland, or the Warm Springs Res. Wherever it is that your ol’ ladies live.’ Damn, he was an evil son of a bitch!” Derrick laughed and looked at the two listeners as they revealed their amazement.

  “So Fast Horse worked it so we got sent home early, kinda like today, and we never saw the guy again. We heard later that he had a big reputation and had been kicked off his own Res. You gotta do some pretty bad shit for that to happen. ‘Course, killin’ people is usually bad shit, even on a Res.”

  “I can’t imagine Fast Horse ready to fight like that,” Frank said, looking both amazed and slightly dismayed.

  “He used to do a lot of crazy shit. I think his brother’s dyin’ kinda woke ‘im up. He started hanging out with elders most of us hardly ever talked to. Whatever works... It was my wife that straightened my shit out. But Fast Horse had a hand in it too, I’d say.” Derrick paused. “Ever had a wife and kids, Frank?” he asked with gentle curiosity.

  “No.” No one had ever asked Frank that before, he realized.

  “Havin’ a family makes you a man.”

  “Or a woman.” Alice quickly countered.

  Derrick laughed. “Or a woman, I imagine, not bein’ a woman myself.” Derrick easily discerned that Alice was a strong woman. He was used to strong women, but he had never known a white woman like her, or many white women at all actually. She interested him for a moment, until his mind strayed. He tried to get back on track; this was his first postjail foray into the real world, and he was determined to stay engaged with these new people. “Yeah, a woman is sure a woman when she has a kid, I’ll tell you that. Fiercest things on the Earth when they need to protect their babies. Goes for just about any creature, you know.”

  “Saddle up!” Alaska yelled in the distance, breaking the calm.

  Frank was surprised to learn it was already time to go. The hours had passed quickly. He looked at the plume, which was still hovering over the forest floor, slightly smaller than before. “Hey Scott, it’s time to go, man,” Frank said, and shook his partner’s arm lightly.

  Scott sat up, momentarily unsure of where he was. He gazed at the mushroom cloud and got his bearings. “Still burnin’.”

  “Yep.”

  Fast Horse walked past Squad Two and expressed approval at their work. He then took his place at the head of the crew, this time with Squad Three in front. When everyone was assembled he shouted, “Dominos!” and the crew started back towards the bus as evening descended around them. It felt good to the firefighters to be moving again. They remained evenly spaced, and their light steps carried them almost effortlessly over the rocky ground.

  Chapter 11

  “Where habitats are frequently modified by fire, evolutionary selection may favor a few broadly adapted species rather than the many specialists.” (Effects of Fire on Fauna, U.S. Department of Agriculture, Forest Service)

  “So, Alaska...” Jim began, seated in his usual place at the back of the bus.

  “Yeah?”

  “You like livin’ up there in Alaska?”

  “Love it up there.”

  “How’s work?”

  “Better’n down here.”

  “There many loggin’ jobs up your way?”

  “Some. I tried to make a living off it, but it wasn’t too easy.”

  “Fuck, I know where you’re coming from there. Just be glad you don’t have any endangered owls.”

  Alaska was glad to have the opportunity to talk with Jim. Since he’d first encountered the members of Squad Two, he had wanted to prove himself more than worthy of their company. They reminded him of men back home. “There are some big operations down in the Tongass,” he said, to keep the conversation about his state continuing.

  Frank, seated nearby, winced. He had heard some things about the Tongass.

  “And here and there you’ll pick up something, but that’s not where the money’s at.” Alaska paused, knowing he had the full attention of the five men. “Still a lot of money in oil work. You guys got any kinda experience in something like that?” he asked, his voice blatantly louder and more rough-sounding than usual.

  “Firefightin’ and loggin’,” Jim said flatly. “They really give you a thousand dollars a year just for living up there?” he asked, quickly changing the subject.

  “Yep. More than that, now. Just gotta live there most of the year. I’m gettin’ that and unemployment, plus anything we make from this job.”

  Squad Two all laughed knowingly, like card sharks about to reveal their hands.

  “Yeah, we’re collecting unenjoyment too.” Jim said. “So what else is up there?”

  “You can still make some money fishin’, but the state’s got so goddamn many regulations these days. Fuck, you used to be able to fish halibut for months. Now you get a couple 24-hour openings a year.”

  Frank, seated nearby, couldn’t bear hearing government regulations being blamed for a decrease in the fishermen’s take. He was m
oved to speech, and was shocked to find words coming out of his mouth. “What I’ve heard is that the trawlers have really depleted the fish stocks.” He then conducted a futile mental search for statistics.

  Paul perked up his head and began to listen closely.

  Alaska slipped back into a state of annoyance. He didn’t like anyone else talking with authority about his state. The corners of his eyes wrinkled and he turned slowly to face Frank. “If you’re talking about who’s taking too many fish, it’s the people from the lower fortyeight. Yeah, it’s the trawlers... and just about every other dumbshit with a boat who gets out there thinkin’ they’ll strike it rich up in Alaska. Lotta fuckers from this very state.” Alaska shifted the direction of his glower from Frank to the back of the seat in front of him. He then settled back, trying to feel at ease amongst Squad Two.

  Frank was intimidated, but his squad boss’s words had actually helped substantiate his position, and he found himself speaking again. “So the government is basically trying to regulate what everyone else has fucked up, right?”

  “Fuck the regulations. Halibut openings are one example. We got more halibut now than we know what to do with. They say 24 hours of fishing and that’s it; if you haven’t got it all in when the time is up, you cut the line. And you know what happens then? All those fish on the lines just float to the bottom.”

  Squad Two shook their heads knowingly.

  Frank felt relieved he could commiserate with Alaska. “That is pretty fucked up,” he said, hoping his swearing sounded natural.

  “Damn right!”

  “Someone’s gotta monitor,” offered Frank.

  Alaska was not left wanting for an opinion. “Fuck, let the fishermen monitor this shit if you ask me. The officials never even set foot on a boat. They send college kids with a radio who don’t know what the fuck they’re doin’!” Alaska gripped the seat ahead of him tightly as if to steady himself.

  “Tell me... When an average fisherman brings home some money, he has a good time with it, huh?” Frank asked.

  Alaska relaxed a little. He failed to recognize the pertinence of Frank’s question and grabbed the chance to talk up the men of his town. “Fuck, fisherman party.” Alaska said, and glanced at Squad Two, who all snickered. “The best friend any bar has is a fisherman. When they’re in shore they let loose, do whatever they want wherever they want, and there ain’t nobody gonna tell them what to do, not even their ol’ ladies. They get enough a that on the boat.”