From Air (Wildfire)

Chapter Thirty-Two

CALVIN

It’s a jaw-grinding day when someone makes a shitty decision to let a small fire burn when we could have dropped two to four men and snuffed it out. The “let burn” is now a vast conflagration we’re flying past on our way to a smaller fire that no one will know about if we get to it soon.

That’s the point. We put out fires in remote areas that rarely make the news because we put them out quickly and efficiently.

We bank left and get a good look at the fire, an angry dragon seeping a slow-rising column of smoke.

I’m out of the plane once I get the slap on my shoulder. The wind has its way with me for several seconds, a dizzying blur of tilting landscape at ninety miles per hour.

The sky.

The plane.

The horizon.

The ground.

I go through the count, and then it’s peace. A serenity like nothing else. And in this moment, I tell myself this is the reason I do it.

But who am I kidding? I think the same thing when I’m on the ground cutting a line, sawing trees, or crawling around on my fucking hands and knees, feeling for hot spots.

What bugs me is this constant need to remind myself just how much I love my job.

Beyond the ominous clouds, there’s something off about the day. A sudden shift in the wind adds an unplanned hundred-or-more yards of drift. Trees. I’m headed for the trees. By some miracle beyond my experience steering my ass out of a bad situation, I find a tiny clearing and manage to land without snagging my chute on a tree or body slamming a boulder the size of a small car.

Alan, a rookie, doesn’t fare as well; he finds a tree—thankfully a shorter one.

“Fuck!” His displeasure echoes.

When the other two land, I remove my gear and radio for the supply boxes.

While making my way to Alan, I check my phone. There’s a message from a number I don’t recognize.

Hi Calvin, it’s Melissa. Jamie’s fine. There was an incident. I flew in this afternoon. I’m at the hospital. She was accidentally attacked yesterday. A concussion and a broken nose. She’ll go home tomorrow. She didn’t want me to tell u, but I thought u might want to know

My hand drops to my side, clenching the phone as I watch the plane drop boxes of supplies. What the hell? How does one get “accidentally” attacked? Was it a patient?

“Alan!” Erin screams.

My gaze shoots to the tree, and I sprint toward his body, dangling five feet from the ground. He’s red in the face, clawing at the suspension line that’s a noose around his neck. Todd and I lift the weight of his body while Erin climbs the tree to help him untangle the line.

We lower him to the ground, and he stares at the sky with shallow, rapid breaths and probably visions of God descending from heaven to take his dumb ass to the pearly gates. We’ve all done something stupid that’s given us a glimpse of the afterlife.

I wouldn’t be a good leader if I didn’t state the obvious and make this a learning opportunity for everyone gathered in a circle around Alan. “Always check for lines before you release your harness attachments,” I scold (teach), when I know he will live another day.

He rubs his neck without looking at me. “I was pissed that I didn’t steer clear of the tree, and—”

“Welp, no time to be pissed. There’s still a dozen ways you can die today; let’s focus on avoiding those and put the goddamn fire out.”

After we unload the supply boxes and trek to the fire, I bark orders, feeling out of sorts and on edge, trying to forget about the message on my phone and the member of my crew who tried to be a pi?ata. “Right here, dig a cup trench.”

“Up either side and tie it off at the top?” Todd finishes for me.

I nod.

Three hours later, we have a completed line, and we break for food. I update dispatch and recheck my phone. No new messages, but I also don’t have any bars.

“You good?” Erin asks. She’s a second-year rookie. A true talent. She’s also the most emotionally in tune with everyone, which isn’t always a good thing in a male-dominated profession of blowhards who pride themselves on not showing emotion. Most of the women keep that shit locked up, too, but not Erin. She can relentlessly tear into the earth with her Pulaski one minute and rock a baby to sleep the next.

“Yup.” I nod several times, but I don’t make eye contact.

Everyone chuckles when I pull out my favorite snack, a frozen bean-and-rice burrito. It’s good and warm by the time I get a chance to eat it.

I find a believable smile to give them before getting back to business. “We need to get the burning snag down. Todd and I have the crosscut. You two make the bed.”

As soon as our break ends, we return to work, felling the burning snag, throwing dirt on it, and tearing it apart.

“Dispatch said we’ll be picked up at oh seven hundred. Grab dinner, and get some sleep. We’ll be up early for another check, gearing up, and a four-mile hike to the helispot.”

Todd, Alan, and Erin share stories during dinner. I stare at my phone and play every scenario in my head. Where was Jaymes attacked? Why? And why wouldn’t she want me to know?

By 0500, we’re grabbing food and checking for hot spots.

“You good?” Todd asks.

“Jesus, I’m fine. Should I make a public announcement?” I pack the tools.

“So you’re not good. That’s all you need to say.”

I feel his gaze on me, but I don’t have the time or patience to make him feel okay about asking me anything.

After we get picked up, I muster as much professionalism as possible to discuss everyone’s performance, which was good. If there is such a thing as textbook, this was it.

An hour later, we’re back at the base for a shower, and all personnel gather for a debrief.

“Go.” Gary grabs my arm before I take a seat.

I narrow my eyes.

“Do you know about Jamie? Her friend messaged Evette this morning.”

After a beat, I nod.

“Then go. Take whatever time you need.”

“I’m fine. I’ll text her after we finish.” I pull away from his hold.

Again, he grabs my arm. We have a silent standoff.

I glance at the door. “I need you to let me do this my way.”

Gary frowns, but he releases me.

This is my life. And when I read the message from Melissa, I was reminded why this is my life.

The debrief is quick. I finish my day like it’s any other day. And I do it under the scrutiny of Gary’s watchful eye.

I go home.

I make dinner.

I wash my dishes.

Will arrives home from his tai chi just as I head up the stairs.

“Hey.” He tosses his keys on the table.

“Hey,” I say, making it halfway up the stairs before stopping. “Listen.” I turn. “Melissa, Jamie’s friend, messaged me. Two days ago, Jamie was accidentally attacked—”

“What the hell?!”

I shake my head. “She’s fine. It was a concussion and a broken nose. I haven’t had a chance to get back with her, so that’s all I know.”

“Well, how long have you been home? What do you mean you haven’t had a chance to get back with her? When did you get the message?”

“Yesterday.”

“What the fuck, Fitz?” Will pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Does Maren know?”

“I was on a call. I couldn’t exactly leave or send out a group text.”

“Hopefully, Maren will see my text and reply.” Will lifts his gaze and eyes me with disapproval. “She’ll go see her, or I could take a few days off to go see her.” He heads toward the kitchen.

I run a hand through my hair and follow him. “I’m going to go,” I say.

Will pulls his empty water bottle from his bag. “I’m sure she’d rather see Maren, no offense.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” I counter with slow, calculated words.

Will eyes me. “What do you mean by that?” He pulls his phone from his pocket. “It’s Maren. Hey.” He answers it on speaker.

“Jesus Christ, what do you mean Jamie was attacked? What the hell? Are you with Fitz? God, I hope he’s already with her.”

Will squints at me. “Why would he already be with her?”

The line goes silent.

“I’m here, Maren. Will and I were just starting to discuss why I’m going to visit her. It’s a broken nose and concussion. I’ll let you know when I find out any more information.”

“Okay. Well, I’m sorry, Fitz. But it’s time,” Maren says.

“Time for what?” Will narrows his eyes.

“I’ll be home tomorrow. Give her my love.” Maren ends the call.

“Did you fuck our roommate?” Will’s words cut through the tense air as he slides his phone onto the counter with one hand and parks his other hand on his hip.

Slowly, I nod.

With a deep inhale, Will looks at the ceiling.

“But for what it’s worth, it never happened here.”

Will grunts. “That’s a relief, because that’s what the rule meant—don’t screw fellow roommates in the house.”

“Are you done?”

Will crosses his arms. “Why? You don’t want a girlfriend or a wife. You don’t want kids. So why risk having Maren and I pissed at you? Why risk getting kicked out of the house? Why take advantage of our friend who is ten years younger than you?”

All great questions. I don’t have the answers, but I won’t show Will that side of my messed-up psyche. “I’m thirty-five, not fifteen. I can navigate sex with a woman without it turning into a total debacle. It’s about setting expectations and boundaries. And stop making it sound like it wasn’t consensual or that I took advantage of someone who just turned eighteen.”

Will returns a blank stare. “She wears friendship bracelets and gets excited when there’s a full moon. She reads her horoscope. I bet she cries while watching Disney movies. There’s no way you two hooked up without her feeling more than your amateur attempt to make her orgasm.”

“Fuck you.”

He slowly shakes his head and walks toward me, resting his hand on my shoulder. “No, Fitz. Fuck you for standing here talking to me when someone attacked her days ago.”