Chapter 1
ONE
MELISSA
I try to focus on the papers I'm grading, but my attention is scattered. I reach for the tiny radio I have and turn it on again. I have it set to the local radio station, and they give constant updates on what's happening with the current fires.
It's not like I'm oblivious. I can scent the smoke from my refuge, but I'm too stubborn to accept that I will have to leave my home and let it be consumed by flames. There are constantly fires this time of year on the mountain. I have nothing to worry about.
The radio is still playing a song, so I go back to my grading.
The kids are doing well and I'm so proud of them.
Learning a second language is not easy. I was lucky to be born into a Spanish speaking household.
My students had a hard time at first, but with my encouragement they've started to blossom.
My phone rings, startling me. I put down my pen and reach for it, seeing that it's Maisie, a teacher from the school and a dear friend.
"Hey Mase."
"Where are you, Melissa?"
"I'm at home. Where else would I be?"
"They say the fire is close to you. You have to leave!"
"Nonsense. I can barely smell the smoke."
"Are you willing to put your life at risk? For what?"
"This place is special to me. Its my…"
I'm at a loss for words. I don't know how to properly describe what this cabin in the Black Timber Peak Mountains means to me. The words refuge, safe haven and sanctuary move through my thoughts, but my musings are interrupted by my friend.
"People are being sent to the school's gym, but maybe Ms. Flora has some room for you. Bring all your papers so you can keep working. Stop being so stubborn."
Maisie knows me well. We've worked together for five long years, since I relocated here. I don't want to think about my life before that, so I shut those thoughts away in a tiny compartment in my brain.
"I've been listening to the radio, Mase. The fire is nowhere close to where I am."
I hold the phone tight to my ear and place my free hand on my stomach. I'm terrified of leaving this safe space in the mountain. My body trembles and I close my eyes. I can no longer hear Maisie's words on the phone, and I think I'm going to throw up.
"Are you listening to me, Melissa?"
"I've got to go. I'll keep the radio on to see what's happening. Everything is going to be okay, Maisie."
I end the call and put the phone back on the table. I start doing some breathing exercises to calm myself down.
This is my safe spot. I don't have to leave it. I don't have to go back. I'm safe. These are the tiny little mantras I say to myself to convince my brain that I'm in a good place.
Trouble is, I'm not in a good place. I want to panic; I want to run. I can't leave this place behind, though.
"Get a hold of yourself, Melissa."
I force myself to go back to my grading. My focus is split between what's being said on the radio and my students work. I think on how hard they've worked and how I try to consistently show up for them with tools and techniques for them to better absorb the material.
The radio drones on, but I manage to focus on what the man is saying. The fire is a few miles out from where I am. Damn it. I'm going to have to evacuate. I swear, someone is going to have to drag me out of this house, because I'm not leaving of my own free will.
Just in case, though, I start gathering the papers I'm grading and putting them into my work bag. I fill it up with papers, a couple of books and my laptop. Then I rush to the bedroom and find my suitcase. What can I salvage?
I don't have any mementos from my previous life, and even if I did, I would leave them behind in a second.
Except…but I don't know where it is. I quickly gather some toiletries and underwear and throw it in the bag.
I put in some serviceable clothes as well.
How long will I be away from my home? Will it go up in flames?
When I finish packing what I think are the essentials, I take my suitcase and place it next to the front door and do the same with my work bag.
I go and sit on the living room, my gut erupting in fear.
My brain goes to the last time I had to leave my home in a hurry and I try to push those memories away.
I refuse to let my mind go back to that horrible place, where all I was good for was being someone's punching bag. I've finally found a home for myself. Somewhere I'm flourishing and coming into my own. I won't let the memories or this stupid fire put my sanity in danger.
Breathing exercises are the way to go right now and I start doing four in, hold for four and exhale in four. I started having panic attacks after I left my past behind, but I'm so much better now. Thank God for online mental health professionals.
The breathing is helping, but I can't help inhaling the smoke that seems to be getting closer to my home.
My stomach churns in response and I place my hands over it to help it settle down.
My logical brain tells me I need to evacuate this place, but my heart is breaking into a million little pieces.
I got myself out from a dire situation before, I can't not do it a second time or however many times it's needed. My body is not responding though. I seem to be frozen on this couch and unable to move. When there's pounding on my door I almost jump out of my skin.
The knocks on the door seem desperate and for a moment I want to pretend no one is in the house.
Let them leave, but I've got a hunch it might be the fire department on the other side of that door.
The pounding continues this time sounding angrier and with an urgency that I've been trying to ignore.
Still frozen on my seat I see a firefighter look through my window and spot me sitting here, not responding to his call. All I know is that the door pounding becomes smashing and after a few minutes my door comes crashing down.