Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
J ARED SHED HIS AIR TANK, unzipped his turnout coat, and wiped sweat and grime from his face. Smoke eater was the perfect nickname for firefighters because today he certainly felt as if he’d been eating smoke all morning. The Crest Fire was a monster. He surveyed the fire line and prayed they’d get a handle on this soon. Jared had only been a sworn firefighter for four months. Working on this hellfire made him feel as if he’d been at it for years.
“Hodges, you ready for some chow?”
Jared turned. Paul Stokes walked toward him. Two days ago, his coworkers had stopped calling him “the grandpa rookie.” He’d been the oldest recruit in his academy class and was reminded of it every day. Until now. The punishing work on the conflagration was a telling equalizer. He’d learned a lifetime’s worth of lessons on this fire, and it was gratifying that his coworkers agreed.
“Thanks, I’ll be right in.”
Stokes came and stood next to him. “You’re good at this job, Hodges. You held your own with Bryce today, and he’s much younger than you. Why didn’t you come on the job years ago?”
Jared sipped some water before answering. “I was born and raised here. When I was a kid, all I wanted to be was out. The smallness was suffocating.”
“I was raised in Sonora. I always thought that was small. Dry Oaks is minuscule in comparison. But it’s a nice place to live.”
“I guess it took my leaving to realize that.”
Stokes slapped him on the back. “Whatever. Glad to have you on the team.” Stokes strode off for the mess tent.
Jared took one last look at the fire line before he turned for the chow tent. It was good to be on the team. And it was good to be back where Hanna was. Jared could admit, only to himself, that she rarely left his mind.
They’d spent so much time together when they were growing up, he thought she’d go with him.
He was wrong.
“Dry Oaks is my home.” Hanna twisted a lock of hair between her thumb and forefinger, an endearing habit Jared loved. Hanna had long beautiful, shiny brown hair, soft to the touch. It made her emerald-green eyes stand out.
“It’s also been torture for you. No one here will ever forget what your dad did.”
“I know.” She held his gaze, her expression thoughtful. “But I love it here. I know the smallness boxes you in, but to me it’s comforting.”
He looked away and kicked a rock. This discussion was not going the way he’d hoped. “What about climbing? What about adventure?”
“I’m just not ready to leave. I’ve almost got my degree in criminal justice; you know I’ve always wanted to be a cop. It’s not just that, Jared. My church home is here.”
“It always comes back to that church, doesn’t it?” Jared spoke sharper than he’d intended.
“The way you say that—” She shook her head. “Church is my family.”
“I’m sorry. You know I struggle with what you believe. All that ‘God is good’ talk. I hate to see you be deceived. If he was good, why did my mom have to die when I was just a kid?”
“I don’t have an answer that will satisfy you. This will always be a barrier in our relationship. It comes back to God—I believe, and you don’t.”
Jared felt like screaming. She was right—this was the only issue that came between them in all the years they’d been together. He couldn’t fathom why it was such a big deal to her.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, it does. I don’t want to be a jerk.”
“I don’t want you to leave, Jared. But I won’t stop you, if it’s what you really want.”
He could admit now how much it had hurt when Hanna said no, and how angry he’d been. He’d initially told her he wanted to leave to see the world, and that was mostly true. But when she said no to traveling with him, he tried to run away from her and the memory of how happy he’d been when they were together.
Jared thought that eventually he could forget Hanna and build a life somewhere new, someplace with a few more layers. He’d spent years bouncing from state to state, confident the exciting life he sought was out there. He’d climbed mountains and skied in Colorado, then changed things up and found his way to New Mexico to build houses in the desert sun. After that there was Florida, New York, Canada, and many other places in between.
When Jared had left home, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for. What he did know for sure was that Dry Oaks was too tedious, too limiting. He wanted to be alive, not just live, and somehow the small town restricted him. Everyone knew him, and he knew everyone. He was certain that by leaving he’d find something different, something better.
“What do you expect to find?” his father had asked.
“I’ll know it when I see it.”
Jared never saw it. Some places he liked better than others, and he stayed there longer. But always, over time, the same restlessness enveloped him, and he had to move on. He began to dread moving on as much as he dreaded staying. It was an odd conundrum that had twisted him in knots.
Then the day nine months ago stopped him cold.
He’d been working on a friend’s roof just outside of Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. Wherever Jared landed he’d find work. He was good with his hands and a trained welder. When he finished stapling in the last remaining roof tile, he stood and looked around. In the distance the snowcapped Sawtooth Mountains stood majestic. He’d been helping his friends build this house for six months. Now his part was finished, and he could move on.
He sighed, trying to put a name to what he was feeling, but he couldn’t. He knew what he wasn’t feeling. There was no joy in him, no sense of accomplishment, no excitement to move on. There was no sense that he should stay here in Idaho either. He felt simply bland. His emotions as dull as a midnight radio talk show.
A vehicle in the distance approached the house. Ken was back from town, and it would be time for lunch. Jared grabbed his tool bag and headed for the ladder. By the time he got down and threw his tools in his truck, Ken climbed out of his car.
“Got something for you, Jared.”
“Yeah?”
Ken walked over to him, holding out what looked like a battered letter. “Kind of a miracle this found you. It’s a few months old.”
Jared took the letter and turned it over in his hands. When he’d first started traveling, he’d been good about calling and corresponding to let his father know where to send his mail. General delivery, usually. But in the past few years, he’d lived off the grid and been sporadic in his correspondence, and consequently, any mail he got was spotty. “You have to write letters to get letters,” an old man had told him once.
Because a sort of depression had been building inside him for months, Jared had not been good about keeping in touch with his father lately.
But this letter was not from his dad. It was from his uncle Gary. It had been mailed to the last place Jared had stayed for any length of time: Colorado. Jared agreed, it was a miracle it had found him here in Idaho, six months later.
He leaned against his truck and opened the battered, stained letter.
Dear Jared,
I hope this letter finds you well. I’m mailing it to the last address your father had for you. Maybe before it gets to you, you’ll call and this will be unnecessary. But I have to give you some bad news. Your father passed away yesterday...
Jared reread the sentence twice, and his knees gave way. He slid down the truck, landing on his butt with his back to the rear tire. It was hard to breathe as he reread the same sentence over and over, the realization hitting him like a kick from a mule.
He continued to read through blurry, watery eyes.
He was working in the yard, and he had a massive stroke. The doctor says he was gone before he hit the ground. We’re holding off making arrangements until we hear from you. But please know, we can’t wait too long.
Uncle Gary
He’d also left a phone number, but Jared barely saw it. His dad had never told him not to leave but had said, “Your dad and your room will always be here for you, when you decide to come home.”
Not anymore. Dad was gone.
Tears blinded his vision and he let them fall freely.
After a minute, Ken knelt next to him. “Hey, man, what is it?”
Jared told him, composing himself and wiping away tears.
“What a son I am. Dad’s been dead for six months, and I had no clue.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. I doubt Ben would want that.”
Jared pushed himself to his feet. With the pain he felt, he might as well have fallen off the roof.
“Come in and have some lunch or something.”
Jared bent over, hands on his knees, and shook his head. “Thanks. I, uh, I’ve got to go.”
He straightened, climbed into his truck, and started the engine. Tears began again as he drove down the long driveway. How on earth had his big adventure turned into such a disaster?
He left his dad, he left Hanna, and after all this time, what did he have to show for it? When the truck reached the road, Jared stopped, rested his head on the steering wheel, and wept.
When he finished, he went to find a phone in downtown Coeur d’Alene. Uncle Gary didn’t condemn him.
“You couldn’t know; none of us knew. I’m just glad my brother didn’t suffer. You’ll come home now?” Gary asked. “Haven’t you wandered enough?”
Jared didn’t give him an answer.
After he talked to Uncle Gary, Jared went for a walk through the downtown. The night air was frigid. Jared barely felt it. His mind kept churning over what a colossal waste his life had been. He thought of Hanna, not that she’d ever really left his thoughts. She’d really made something of her life, achieved all that she’d dreamed of all those years ago. Gary had told him that she’d just been elected chief of police. All he had to show for his last ten years was a beat-up truck and a great set of tools.
He’d accomplished nothing. His life to this point was meaningless. His pride wouldn’t let him run home with his tail between his legs now.
Hanna was the only person he wanted to call. She understood purpose and meaning; she’d tried to tell him about that often enough.
Even after all the years apart, he remembered the many conversations he’d had with her. She’d shared her faith with him often, when he’d listen. He’d always felt that church, like Dry Oaks, was a prison.
He was wrong about so much. Was he wrong about that as well?
Hanna and her pastor both had talked to him about sin and salvation and saving love. He’d thought it was so nebulous and unbelievable at the time.
“The church is my family,” she’d said. “It gives me purpose and direction.”
Jared stopped in front of a church. He needed purpose and direction.
Pain and loss forced him to open the door and walk inside.
“Can I help you, young man?” A white-haired gentleman arranging folding chairs greeted him with a smile. “You look lost.”
Something in the man’s soft tone, his earnest gaze touched Jared. He felt as if he’d missed a handhold on a rock face and was in free fall. For the first time in his life, he fell apart. He bared his soul to the old man. The guy just listened.
“I’ve wasted my life,” Jared said when he finished. Exhaustion hit, making him feel as though his body were made of lead. Shoulders sagging, head down, he doubted the man could help him. He doubted anyone could help him.
“You’re carrying such a burden. If pain brought you here, it’s not a waste.” He prayed, “Lord, I ask you to touch this man. You know what he needs, the burden he’s bowed under. Help him, heal him.”
Jared listened, remembering the prayers his father had prayed for his mother while she lay sick with cancer when Jared was ten. Dad’s faith and prayers had not saved her.
“I’ve never believed that God really had much to offer me. I’ve heard about him my whole life, from my parents, from my friends...”
“What do you want God to offer you?”
“I wanted my mom to live. No matter what my dad prayed, she died.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why that happened. When I’m faced with things I don’t know, I stick to things that I do know. Jared, I do know that God loves you. I also know that he has answers for you if you ask.”
“I’m asking.”
“That’s a start. Next, let go of the burden you carry about the past.” He handed Jared a Bible. “This is yours to keep. Sounds as if you know a little already. Read the Gospel of John and join the fellowship here, if you plan to stay.”
Jared took the book and held it in both hands for a moment. He looked up at the old pastor. “Is it really possible for me to get right with God when I’ve spent most of my life running away from him?”
“It is. You’re at the end of yourself, Jared. Turn the rest of your life over to Jesus. Ask him to forgive you and help you. He will. It sounds simple because it is.”
Jared did just that. He felt as if he opened his hands and dumped the mess his life had become in God’s lap.
When he walked out of the church, he felt like he was a thousand pounds lighter. Accepting the free gift the old man told him about had changed his entire perspective.
It was time to go home.
If nothing else, he needed to pay his respects to his father. Jared felt new and different, ready to stop wasting time and do something with his life. He bought a phone and asked Gary to send him job listings from Dry Oaks and Tuolumne County.
The wandering bug had run its course. He found what he was looking for when he found faith. When he got home, Jared hoped to reconnect with Hanna. After all, the one hurdle that had kept them apart all those years ago was gone.
But Hanna had moved on. She had an important job and a steady guy. It surprised Jared how much it hurt to realize he was still stuck in a world where he and Hanna were a couple, and for her that was ancient history. Now, every spot in Dry Oaks was a place they had shared, and his memories of that time had not dimmed.
Still, he was glad he’d come back, found a job, and got settled. Jared was where he should be. Now, if he could just win Hanna back.