Chapter 22
The Color of Fire
Blaze
Every day brought a new conversation with Autumn, and a power struggle between Melody and me.
I realized that because I was new to this position, she had an upper hand on me, meaning I was her trainee, and she was my mentor.
But while we waited for something to go down…
I wanted to tap into that nepotism that Don was going on about and abuse my position to continue to get to know the girl in Tower Three.
Autumn sounded beautiful… Inside and out.
She would share little anecdotes with me about God, the things she wanted out of life, and it sounded like the woman also loved baked goods as much as I did.
In the days that passed, I hadn’t seen Don to inquire about her.
I also didn’t feel like I wanted to ask Kerry more details, as even though I’d known Kerry for years, it was different with her.
She was a woman and not family, like Don.
I needed the inside scoop on Autumn from a male perspective.
But Don was out on prescribed burns, day after day.
Eventually, Melody had a day off. I was really excited, as my plans were to get to know everything about Autumn that I could while having some sense of privacy in the office.
The day had started out with Kerry in the building, doing some paperwork.
All of the towers started to check-in for the morning, and I was praying that Autumn would wait until the time she usually called in, because Kerry said she was leaving in just a few minutes.
The time passed, and Kerry packed up and left.
But Autumn still hadn’t called in. I checked the time; it was past 7:30.
She had never called in the past 7:15. Usually, it was on the dot at 7:10, sometimes even earlier if there was a particularly unusual cloud in the sky, like that time she saw one that looked like Steve Buscemi wearing a top hat.
After not hearing from her, I made the decision to call her.
“Dispatch to Tower Three?” My mind rattled with every second that passed, and she didn’t respond.
I turned to the computer monitor that showed the small camera on the peak of the lookout she was in.
Nothing unusual at first glance but for the faintest moment, I thought I saw bright red hair blowing in the wind, its length surpassing the roofline of the tower.
I watched as if I would be quizzed on the shade, until I saw it again.
My heart leapt at catching the slightest glimpse of this woman, and I also rested seeing that she was fine, just enjoying the morning view.
Suddenly, the hair was gone, and the beautiful voice of an angel was on the other end of my radio.
“Tower Three to Dispatch.” I smiled.
“Good morning, Autumn,” I said, throwing out all of the formalities today, since I was alone in the department.
“Hi, Blaze,” she replied, but she didn’t sound as perky as usual.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, and it was followed by a long pause.
“Today would have been my wedding day,” she answered.
I felt like a pinecone bursting from the heat of a wildfire.
After the initial shock passed, I realized with a profound understanding why Autumn had been here in the first place.
But I was struggling with an adequate response.
Autumn, with her bright flaming hair, had been through something.
I wondered what had happened. Why was she betrothed and now...
living in a lookout tower all by herself? In my pondering, I was silent.
“Are you still there?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.
“Yes, I’m here. And I’ll be here all day, if you want to talk about anything.” I didn’t think that smiling made a noise, but if it did, I thought I could hear it coming from Autumn.
“Thank you, Blaze. Do you know any good jokes?” The pressure was on as Autumn tasked me to make her laugh.
While my mind was suddenly as blank as a Word document, I thought I could divert the conversation while still distracting her from whatever grief she was feeling today.
The desire to lift her up and… protect her from sadness was overwhelming.
I had never felt like this before, and we’d only been talking for two weeks.
I didn’t even know what she looked like, but I realized then, that I didn’t care.
“A firefighter, a firewatcher, and a dispatcher walk into a bar—” I started, not knowing the punchline.
“Oh no, not one of these jokes!” she giggled on the other end of the line. Mission accomplished.
“You didn’t let me finish,” I teased, racking my brain. “They walk into a barbecue joint,” I stated, matter-of-factly.
“Uh huh, go on,” Autumn whipped back.
“And the bar, er, hostess says, ‘Oh no, what’s burning?’ When the cook in the back says, ‘I overcooked the ribs.’”
“Well, it’s not the worst joke I’ve ever heard, especially for being made up on the fly. I’m actually impressed.” She saw right through me, and I laughed.
“Thanks. I’m glad you liked it.”
“If you ever decided to pull the plug on firefighting, you could have a real career as an opener for stand-up comedians.”
“Ouch, just an opener? Why not the headlining act?” I put my hand over my heart, wishing she could have seen my reaction.
“I’d have to hear a lot more material to promote you to the headliner. Maybe I’ll give you some time to prepare, if that is truly your ambition.” Her giggles made my cheeks redden.
“I think I’ll just stick to fire, but I may come at you with a few more jokes,” I said, feeling suddenly very inspired to make her laugh.
“By the way,” Autumn changed gears, “the air smells like a campfire today, but I don’t see any smoke.” I nodded, though she couldn’t see me.
“We have some smoke from a fire in Montana. It may get worse before it clears up, as the forecast is showing the winds pushing it right to us.”
“That’s good to know. If I didn’t know, I might call in a panic that I’m smelling a lot of smoke.”
“In that case, Autumn, pretend I never said anything.” We both laughed and continued to idly chat for most of the morning. After a few hours, she asked if we were going to get in trouble for talking so much.
“I’m alone today, actually. But otherwise, no, don’t worry about it. Unless we are tying up a line, in which case, you are the line to get to me—there isn’t much going on. Things are usually winding down this time of year. This year, the heat just won’t let up and—” another dispatcher called in.
“Tower Two to dispatch.” The voice was urgent. It was Greg, whom I’d met in passing over the years, as he’d been a lookout since well before I was born.
“Dispatch to Tower Two, over,” I said, leaving my hand on both radios for a moment, before setting down the one that I spoke to Autumn on, hesitantly.
“We have a fire.” My heart skipped a beat. This was what I was born to do, in any capacity. Though I’d much rather have been out fighting it myself, I was finding dispatch increasingly satisfying. Talking to Autumn every day also had something to do with that.
After getting all of the information from Greg, I started to deploy the units.
My heart was pumping faster than it had in weeks.
I also finally got Don on the line, a conversation I’d been wanting to have ever since I first spoke to Autumn, but now was not the time to ask about the girl in Tower Three.
“We’re on it, Blaze,” Don promised, as his truck started on the other end of the line. “I have one crew already driving that way because while we were on Mount Bridger, we saw a little smoke plume forming.” I closed my eyes and remembered the fire on Mount Bridger two years ago.
The wind was blowing forty-five miles per hour for three days. Not uncommon in Wyoming, but we usually hoped that windstorms waited for fire season to pass. Or, at the very least, didn’t coincide with a massive, out-of-control burn.
Embers the size of a fist were falling up to ten miles from the source.
Pine needles came down like rain drops, landing at our feet as we stood at the edge of the fire line.
But no matter how fast we dug it, or how wide, the fire was jumping miles at a time on the ridge because of the high wind gusts.
“Blaze—we need to evacuate! Aerial support is on its way!” Don hollered at me as hotshots piled into the back of pickup trucks.
But I wasn’t ready to leave yet. There was still work to be done on this fire—to prevent something worse from happening.
“Blaze—in the truck, NOW!” And I relented.
I got into the truck with the rest of my crew.
The fire had no casualties, but it burned up several historic lodges and an area that had been long known as a grizzly base for summer moth-feeding.
In late August, grizzly bears would travel to peaks and ridges where they were estimated to consume twenty-thousand calories or more of moths in preparation for winter hibernation.
After nearly an hour spent conversing with Tower Two, Don, and the team back at the base of Maple Haven Fire District, I finally picked up the radio for Tower Three again when I was in the clear. I had my eyes back on the camera locations for all towers.
“Dispatch to Autumn,” I said, keeping up some formality, just in case the chief of fire decided to stop by her tower for a visit. Which wouldn’t happen, but still...
“Autumn to Blaze, over,” she teased back. “Is everything okay?”
“We have a fire to the south of you,” I said, still feeling the adrenaline course through my body.
“Oh!” she exclaimed.
“I’m watching smoke form on the cameras right now.”
“Where are the cameras?” she asked, urgently.
“We have a camera on each of the lookout towers, at the very top of the roof peak.”
“Can you… see me?” she asked hesitantly.
“No, I mean, not really, anyway.” Her contesting my answer was immediate.
“What do you mean, not really?”
“Well, the cameras are here on the monitors all the time. Twenty-four hours a day, so I don’t want this to sound creepy or anything…” I trailed off.
“Blaze, just tell me.”
“Okay, this morning, when you didn’t answer, I was watching your screen just to make sure things weren’t on fire and… I think I saw some of your hair blowing in the wind off of the front porch.”
“Oh,” she said, a different tone to her voice. Pleased, perhaps? I couldn’t tell. “Here I was thinking… There’s a sun shower at the bottom and…”
“No, absolutely not, Autumn. We just get a view like you have, over the trees, but the quality is garbage, and it is really just to make sure the tower is still standing.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Autumn pressed, and I laughed.
“Let’s not go there,” and she laughed with me.
“Anyway, about your hair…” I paused.
“What about it?” There was a coyness to her voice.
“Is it.. red?” My cheeks certainly were at this time.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? What does that mean?” It either is or it isn’t, is what I wanted to say.
“It’s more of a... fire color. Sort of red, sort of orange. It’s lighter in the summer, when I’ve been in the sun.” My heart was pounding out of my chest at the talk of this woman's hair color, and I knew I had it bad.