Page 1 of Nash
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Keira
“Goddamn,Keira! Why won’t you just do what I ask you to do?” Forest Range Officer Andrews slams a thick folder onto his desk. I can practically see the smoke billowing out his ears. If his face gets any redder I might have to call an ambulance. “I’ve got enough shit to deal with around here. The last thing I need is you kicking up a fuss and taking stands and moaning about how you never get any of the fun jobs.”
I fold my arms over my chest and stare straight back at him. If he thinks he can intimidate me by getting angry, he’s got another thing coming.
“Well, why is it that never get any of the fun jobs? Hey? Heck, I’d settle for a semi-fun job. A not lethally dull job. The way it is at the moment, I’m stuck with fetching coffees and answering the phone and making photocopies and picking up dry cleaning. It’s driving me nuts, Bob. I didn’t sign up to the forest service to be a glorified receptionist.”
Bob Andrews leans back in his chair and lets out a deep sigh. He’s a good man. Someone I respect. But I’m sick and tired of the way I’m being treated.
“Keira,” he says, his voice calm and gentle and so close to patronizing that I want to reach over his desk and grab him by the collar and slap him around the face. “It’s not personal. You’re a rookie. That’s just the way it goes around here. Clay had to do the same thing. Riley did. Heck, even I was an errand boy for the best part of a year when I first joined. And you sure as hell didn’t hear anyone else complaining about it.”
I slump down into a chair. He's on the other side of the desk from me, probably wishing that I'd leave him in peace. “It’s just not the way I pictured it being, you know?”
“Nothing ever is.”
“I thought I’d be out there getting my hands dirty. Instead, I’m more likely to get a paper cut on my tongue from licking so many letters. I swear, if I have to answer another call about those damn raccoons I’m gonna lose my mind.”
“Well, there’s nothing I can do about that. Those raccoons are a nuisance. They always have been and they always will be.”
“And now you really want me to go check on some city boy who's camping in the forest? Pass on this message from his brother-in-law?”
“It’s what we do.”
I close my eyes and count to ten. It’s supposed to calm me down, but all it does is make me think about all the reasons I hate stupid city boys who can’t handle their own damn shit.
“But it’s Friday, Bob. Me and Cassy, we had plans. I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week. Can’t someone else go? What about Joe? Isn’t Arnie around somewhere? I swear I saw his car out front a little while ago. He’s probably in town having himself a slice of pie. I’ll go get him. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
I stand up and head toward the door. Sometimes it’s best to just pretend like you’ve been given the go-ahead.
“Keira.” Bob Andrew’s voice stops me in my tracks. “Arnie’s going to see his daughter’s recital tonight and then have dinner with his family. I’ll be damned if I ruin it for him just because you wanna hang around with my no-good daughter and get drunk and watch romcoms and stuff your face with ice cream and pizza and fried chicken and god knows what else.”
“It’s called girl's night, Bob. And it’s the best damn night of the week,” I say.
“That may be the case. But right now you’re Forest Guard Keira Appleby. I need you to go up to the old Turner place and find this city guy.” He pushes his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. There's a piece of paper covered in doodles on the desk in front of him. He looks at it for a minute, trying to find the name he wrote down. “A Mr. Nash Savage," he says, eventually, "and tell him that his brother-in-law needs to talk to him as soon as possible.
“After that, you can do what you please. You won’t have to see my ugly face until Monday morning. We’ll no doubt go through this whole song and dance again. Maybe I'll ask you to email someone. Reply to a phone call. God forbid, you put your head down and get on with things like everyone else in the department.”
I look out the window. The clouds are starting to gather. It’s one of the reasons I don’t want to go.
Apparently, Bob can read my mind. “If you leave now, you’ll be back in a couple of hours. The rain’ll have hardly started.”
He starts looking at things on his computer. Clicking his mouse so hard it's like he's trying to break through the table.
Apparently, this conversation is over.
I walk out of his office and put my coat on and head to my truck.
I could probably just head home and get ready and go see Cassy. Nobody would be the wiser. But then there’s always the chance that this message is genuinely important.
What if someone in this guy’s family has died? What if this brother-in-law is in deep trouble and Nash Savage is the only one who can save him.
Urgh… Nash Savage.
What kind of name even is that?
He sounds like one of those cheesy special forces guys that are always the main characters in the espionage-thrillers my dad used to read.
