Chapter 14
Signs of Fire
Autumn
I jumped out of bed. Or at least fumbled with the sleeping bag zipper that somehow got tangled up in my pillow case and long, fiery hair.
But once I was freed, a few less strands on my head, I jumped up.
The sun was just rising over the mountainous region.
The sun was bright red. A sailors' warning, I thought, an old wives tale or… Fire. There was fire. A haze was over the hills. Shadows everywhere the sun hadn’t kissed with its presence yet.
I didn’t see smoke, I didn’t see flames, but I knew it. It was near.
“Tower Three to dispatch, over,” I said, a shakiness to my voice. It wasn’t even six in the morning yet, and I felt like I might be too late. Or too early. While my mind was playing devil's advocate, I waited for an answer.
“Tower Three, go ahead.” Stephanie’s voice sounded sleepy. I hoped I hadn’t woken her.
“There is significant haze across the region this morning.” My eyes darted from peak to peak, still looking for fire.
“Any visible signs of smoke or fire?” she asked. I stalled for a moment, not finding any.
“Not that I’m—” I gasped. “Yes. Yes! Just west, there is a small billow of smoke rising.” I was so proud of myself for finding that little spot, that I forgot the questions that would come next.
“Can you provide the location of the smoke? Over.” Using the fire finder tool, as Kerry had taught me, I gave her the details. “What color is the smoke?” In this light, it looked gray. But in the full light from the morning sun, it might have been different.
“Grayish. Over.” There was a long pause where I didn’t hear anything. Finally, Stephanie returned, with an adrenaline to her voice. It was also pumping through my veins like I had just run a marathon.
“Tower Three, continue monitoring for size changes. The fire crews have been notified. Over.”
The morning had started off with so much excitement that it was almost nine in the morning before I had tiptoed down to shower.
After my regular morning check-in report.
After I had made a pot of coffee on the propane percolator.
After I had drank three cups of said coffee, filled with two heaping spoonfuls of sugar in each one.
I felt wired. Taking the stairs two by two, I was down in no time.
I had to be fast, in case there was more activity with the smoke.
In case someone needed me for a question, or another check-in.
My mind was so full, that by the time I made it down the stairs, I showered, washed my hair, and made it back up the stairs before I ever even considered the heights I was in.
Before I let my mind calculate the exact footage that I was in the air.
The equation of how dead I would be if I somehow fell off the tower, which, thanks to the railing on all sides, would have to be pretty deliberate and not accidental.
I had nothing to worry about up here, except for the task at hand.
As the day went on, the winds shifted. The skies cleared from their haze. The smell dissipated. Later in the afternoon, clouds started to form around me.
“Dispatch, this is Tower Three.” I was hoping Stephanie was still there. To my excitement, she was.
“Tower Three, this is dispatch, go ahead.”
“Did they find the blaze?” I asked.
“Blaze? Sorry, can you repeat? There was a little radio interference. Blaze is okay.”
“So, there was a fire, then? Over.” I waited for her reply.
“Yes. Nothing large, just a small fire, a few feet in perimeter, that had just started. I thought you meant— never mind. They got it out. They think it was caused by some dry lightning. As we haven’t had a drop of rain to that region in far too long.
” I smiled into the radio, though she didn’t know this.
“Thanks for the update, Stephanie. Same time tomorrow?” I laughed, feeling like everything was going to be okay.
“I’ll be here. And since we’re just getting to know each other, I want you to know that I’m retiring soon.
Do you like horses?” Stephanie and I had a few more minutes of chatter over the radio before signing off until my evening check-in.
I was a little disappointed that she was retiring, but with so much in her life to look forward to, I was really happy for her.
My stomach growled, and I went to my makeshift pantry area.
There was a small, built-in table with a short, narrow fridge that was also powered by the solar setup.
Inside was a tiny shelf where I was able to put some leftovers from yesterday's cooking excursion. I wasn’t sure how big the fridge would be, so I didn’t bring much that needed to be kept in there, except for a block of sharp cheddar cheese.
For good measure, I also included a large jar of pickles.
I took out some of my crackers and made a small charcuterie selection, along with some sliced jerky and two bottles of water.
Something about being this high up made me really thirsty all day long.
As I enjoyed the food, I found myself reaching for my phone again and again, before remembering that it was off.
My thoughts wandered in places I wouldn’t normally let them, like to Ray, and I wondered what he would think of me now.
*****
The days started trickling by, and before I knew it, a month had gone by.
It was almost late August. Summer storms came that felt like hurricanes, had high winds and large white lightning bolts that would turn the whole night sky purple, and brought little moisture with them.
I considered if I had electricity, several times now, it would have gone out.
After each of these events, I braced myself for smoke.
I expected fire. The drought conditions were worsening every day, and the oppressive heat was increasing.
My days had a rhythm to them. My grief was passing by the second.
I found myself looking forward to my check-ins with Stephanie, and most importantly, I found myself back in the Word.
God was finally able to reach me here, away from the noise.
And other than my first morning waking up in the tower, it had been an uneventful month in the lookout tower.
It was about time for my first restock of supplies.
Kerry had radioed to me that someone would be picking me up at eight in the morning to drive to the nearest store, like we had discussed.
In honor of the occasion, I had taken extra time to shower that morning and properly brush my hair, which I hadn’t done very well on most days up here.
It’s not that I didn’t care, but there was just no one to impress.
Not even myself, with how small the mirror was.
I grabbed the two hiking poles that were hanging from a hook at the bottom of the tower and made my descent down the hill that was challenging to navigate in parts.
What I assumed would take me ten minutes actually took me twenty, but I also credited that extra amount of time to the fact that I thought at any moment, a grizzly bear might have jumped out at me, and to prevent this, I had to sing them all away.
I was on my third chorus of “Jesus Loves Me” when a squirrel came running out from behind a bush.
I screamed, thinking it was some sort of rabid creature that might be headed straight for my ankles, like a senior chihuahua that is deaf, blind, and has two teeth.
But I thought my screaming scared him just as much, and he tore back into the bush.
Finally, I made it down, unscathed. I was waiting down at the bottom of the hill when she pulled up. I saw her truck coming around the bend of the road. I waved, looking forward to telling her about my first month in the lookout, except when the truck arrived, it wasn’t Kerry. It was a man.
“Autumn? I’m Don. Kerry is down at dispatch this morning, training my nephew on the ropes.
” I didn’t think much of it as Don explained where Kerry was.
Don was very kind and opened the door of his truck for me.
We had a great chat all the way to the store, to which I found myself talking his ear off.
“And then lighting shot down right in front of my windows! Had there been a tree there, it would have split. I’m serious, it was THAT close!” Don was laughing in my excitement and shared a few stories of his own. Before I knew it, we were at the store.
I ran in and grabbed what items I needed.
I got twice as much water as before, a variety of chocolate covered almonds and cashews, jerky, crackers and all of the canned goods that I enjoyed eating right out of their containers with a spoon, like a barbarian.
Once in the seasonal aisle, I added pumpkin-flavored Madeline cookies, a tantalizing apple chutney spread for my multi-seed crackers, and a large block of cranberry goat cheese.
The same brand that they carried back at Fairy Falls Grocery.
If only they sold a pumpkin trifle, I thought.
But then, I took a chance and walked past the bakery, and my eyes landed on a sparkling clear glass case that was stocked to the brim with fall treats. I couldn’t resist.
On my way to the register, I passed a stand stocked with sunglasses, and it had a large mirror. Something I had been avoiding, but I hesitated and walked closer. I took in my reflection.
My red hair looked wild and untamed, but fuller.
A gentle wave to the ends gave it life. Lightened ever so slightly by the sun.
I had been spending more time on the porch of my tower as I became comfortable with the sturdiness of the railing, and the beauty of my new surroundings—and this look—pleased me.
Then, I examined my face: My cheeks looked rosy.
I had never gone this long without wearing at least a little makeup.
Normally, for work, I’d dab on some cream blush and fill in my thin eyebrows.
In this time, my eyebrows had grown fuller, without my over-plucking.
My face looked more defined. My skin was as clear as it had ever been.
I was just about to smile, the feeling of something new radiating through my mind, contemplating the fact that I was somewhere new.
Somewhere different, where people didn’t know my story.
They didn’t know I had been dumped by my fiancé.
They didn’t know that my parents thought that was my only chance at love, a thought hard to swallow, because there was so much more to me than that.
So much more to the plan that God had for my life.
In that moment, standing in front of the plastic mirror at the grocery store that was never quite pointed in the right direction, I felt full of hope.
Full of faith. I realized I was over the breakup, truly.
God worked a miracle in my life to rid it of the hurt.
Then, I heard the awfully familiar voice that stopped me in my tracks.
“Autumn?”