Page 147 of Smoke and Fire
“Someone really wrote in and asked that. You can’t make this stuff up!”
My dialogue wavered for a moment, but I forced myself not to stop and delete it. Instead, I nodded once.
“Anyway, be safe out there. Text me your answers when you get the chance.”
The video stopped, and I let out a huff. Before I lost my nerve, I hitsend. Why I felt compelled to give him a video of me, I had no idea. Just a hunch that Bastian didn’t have anyone to talk to him.
With a sigh, I spun on my heels and headed back to work, Jess’s fourth book bright on my mind.
10
BASTIAN
My entire body ached when I finally settled back on my sleeping pad that night.
Sounds from fire camp filtered through the trees where I lay on the ground, my inflatable pad beneath me. I’d spent the last five minutes huffing air into it to get a modicum of a barrier between myself and the pine needles. My joints and muscles already protested, and we’d only dug line for ten of sixteen work hours today.
Darkness spread around me in a gentle skirt, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl or call of a nearby bird. It was a quiet sound, and felt like home.
To my right, Nilla, the only girl on our crew, had already fallen asleep on top of her bag. She snored lightly, but she always racked out first. She’d get cold later and cozy in. Beyond her, a couple guys laughed over a nasty joke, and the sound of someone slapping a mosquito followed.
As much as I hated sleeping outside by the end of the summer, right now the cool air and slowly settling night felt good.
Mack, the Supervisor, murmured quietly into his phone not far away. I glanced at my phone, startled to see two tiny bars of reception. When we were digging line in the forest to block out an advancing spur of the fire, we never had reception. Back at fire camp, though, we sometimes had just enough to squeak by. A rare luxury. One fire in Alaska had us just below the Arctic circle, clearing trees. For fourteen days, we hadn’t breathed a soul of civilization. No reception. Nothing.
I sat up and grimaced as I settled my back against a tree, then rubbed out my forearms. Heat spread across my shoulders, tightening the muscles at the base of my neck into knots.
Before I put too much thought into how much line we’d dug through thick forest that probably hadn’t been accessed in years, a notification popped up on my phone.
3 new text messages.
My heart raced when I saw that one of them was from Inessa’s main nurse, Shayna. No reason to think anything had changed, except Inessa had always been outside the usual for expectations.
I suspected that it wasn’t usual for the staff to text family members updates from their personal phones, but she had been kind about my situation from the start.
Shayna:Things are good with Inessa. She had a good painting day yesterday. The doctor is coming in soon to talk with her again. Probably in three days. I had to bump her oxygen up a little higher so she wasn’t breathing so hard. She’ll probably sleep better.
I frowned. Inessa’s reliance on oxygen had been increasing more quickly than usual. The news left a welling dread in the pit of my stomach that had always been there. Inessa’s mortality was always a question mark on my landscape.
Bastian:Thanks Shayna. Can you text me the doctor’s update when you receive it? I’m working the Pinegulch fire closer to Pineville, and I should have reception in the evenings. I appreciate the help.
After I sent that, I navigated back to the main screen with Dad on my mind. He rarely had any changes anymore. Just worsening ones. Yesterday, he looked the same as he usually did. I dismissed the thoughts of Dad. Too distracting.
Too agonizing.
Under Shayna’s message waited Dahlia’s. After reading it, I realized I’d completely forgotten to brief her on what kinds of questions to expect from readers.
My short tour of the inbox had obviously been wanting. If she dove into my sent mail, she’d eventually see a few replies I’d done before. Those might help a little. She’d probably sent that first text hours ago, although I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t receive it until we came back to reception this evening.
I moved onto her video message.
Her bright smile trapped my attention right away, and I had to watch it three times before I understood everything she said. The way her eyes crinkled and words came quickly to her had me captivated. Maybe I spent too much time in the sooty air already, but it was damngood to hear from her.
From someone.
As much as I tried to tell myself the quiet nights and busy days didn’t bother me, it was a lie. What I really wanted more than anything was someone to end the day with. Someone I could talk to, could ask questions of. Someone that wanted to know what happened in my day. Like Hernandez and Dagny.
While I didn’t know if I needed a happily-ever-after-marry-you-until-I-die relationship, anything would be better than the silence of my father’s house.
