Yellowstone Memories (32 page)

“Not at all.” Thomas’s eyes sobered. “Velvet Gold graham crackers.” He wrinkled his brow in thought. “I remember those. They stopped making them awhile back, didn’t they?”

“Yeah.” Alicia leaned her cheek in her hand. “Nabisco graham crackers aren’t the same at all. I sent some letters to different baking companies trying to find Velvet Gold, but apparently it’s defunct. I haven’t tasted those graham crackers since I was nine.”

Thomas ate in silence as if wondering whether or not to ask and then raised his head slightly. “So what happened to your foster mother?”

“Which one?” A flicker of irritation snatched at Alicia’s dark brows.

“You had more than one?”

“Seven, last time I counted.” Alicia’s tone took on a harder edge. “And if you’re talking about Mrs. Coffman, the one I ate graham crackers with, she died of a sudden heart attack at age fifty-two. Nobody knows why.” She checked her watch and turned away from the table, scanning the mess tent. “So what time are we supposed to be out on the fire line?”

“I’m sorry.” Thomas didn’t move, except to raise his head.

“About?” She looked up as if annoyed.

“Mrs. Coffman. The graham crackers.” Thomas poked the rest of his beanie-weenies with his fork and chewed thoughtfully. “And the seven foster mothers. That must have been rough to feel bounced between so many homes, especially when you were so young.”

The scent of smoke hung in the air in a sudden, unmistakable breath, and Alicia’s eyes felt warm. The way they did when bits of ash swirled on the horizon.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Alicia ran a hand through her ponytail in a harsh gesture. “But that’s life, I guess, right?”

“Sort of, but …” Thomas put down his fork and nested his chin in his hand. “I knew you’d been through a lot.” He sighed. “Tell me something. Were any of the foster mothers kind like Mrs. Coffman?”

“No,” said Alicia crisply, dabbing a napkin at her lips and effectively ending the subject. “Not in the slightest. Now, where’d I put that compass mirror, or do I need to borrow yours again?”

“One last thing.” Alicia reached out to stop Thomas as he gathered up his empty tray. “You never told me.”

“Told you what?” He drained the last of his Capri Sun, and the foil packet made a slurping sound.

“What would you want to eat for your last meal?”

Thomas put his Capri Sun down and rattled it on the table while he thought. “I think I know.”

“What?” Alicia balled up her napkin and pushed her mostly full plate away.

“Whatever would make you smile like you meant it.” He winked and stood up then waved good-bye as he carried his plate to the trash.

Y
ou’ve got your will written, don’t you?” Carlita called over through the gloom.

Alicia jumped, blinking burning eyes into a pour of sweat from her hairline. Her mouth stammered as she scrambled for a reply. “What’s that supposed to mean? It’s not like people are going to be fighting over my betta fish.”

She raised her voice over the roar of the fire and the shouts of the crew as they dug into the fragrant earth with fire rakes. The pines overhead still glowed bright green in the mid-afternoon sun, but just a few feet to the right they’d scorched like overdone marshmallows.

“I mean we’re probably all gonna die out here.” Carlita paused long enough to wipe sweat from her neck. “Either from scorched lungs or smoke inhalation. This fire’s a monster! We’ve been chasing it for hours, and it’s done nothing but pick up speed.”

She put down her pulaski fire rake and tied a dusty purple bandanna around her forehead—making her look like a fiftyish female Rambo. Thick, murky smoke boiled in from the huge swath of burned forest, and glimmers of orange still licked at a blackened stump.

“Speak for yourself. I’m not dying out here.” Alicia coughed into her bandanna. “Maybe not, but I’m so mad at the Park Service I could spit.” Carlita shook her head in disgust. “If they’d put this thing out earlier, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Look at it!” She swept a filthy, ash-stained arm at the blackened stretch of forest. Rippling heat waves made the whole scene look hazy, as if Alicia were seeing underwater.

“It’s not all their fault. This is the driest summer on record, and all this timber just waiting to burst into flame. We’ll put it out if it takes all week. Besides, I’ve seen worse.”

“You’re a liar.” Carlita didn’t even look up. “You’ve never seen worse than this.”

“Maybe.” Alicia hid a smile.

“Maybe nothing. If this is what hell looks like, count me out.”

“I don’t believe in hell.” Alicia stomped on a piece of ash that floated in on a warm gust. “Life is hell. That’s my theory.”

“And when you die you go to heaven? Right. Like that makes any more sense than us digging the daylights out of a strip of land that’s just going to go up in smoke in an hour anyway.” Carlita made a face. “So anyway, you got your wish.”

“My what?” Alicia coughed and wiped her gloves on her ash-stained pants before gripping her fire rake. In a few minutes the whole line of firefighters would dig a single swipe into the soil with their fire rakes, in perfect succession, one after another. A step forward and another swipe—digging trenches into the furnace and whittling away at its mighty power.

“Your wish.” Carlita nodded her head behind them.

Alicia twisted around to see through the thick cloak of gray-black smoke. And there, barely visible through the gloom, came a glint of Forest Service sea green: Thomas’s fire truck rumbling through a distant dirt road. It disappeared behind a charred cottonwood, one of the dead branches still glowing with flame.

“Give me a break, Carlita.” Alicia turned back, sponging her face with the back of her glove. “I told you I don’t like him like that. Really. Why don’t you give it up?” She watched as the last crew member down the line swung his fire rake, and then she stepped forward with the others. “I don’t care if he’s here. He’s just a friend.”

“What?” Carlita spun around. “I was talking about them assigning us initial attack. Your wish. Remember?” She glared. “What were
you
talking about?”

Alicia nearly dropped her fire rake. “Oh,” she mumbled, feeling her face color with embarrassment. “Sorry. I misunderstood you.”

Carlita didn’t respond, stomping soot and soil from her boots as the crew boss shouted at them to put their backs into it. A wall of heat hit Alicia from the side with unexpected force, and hoses hissed as crew members rushed to keep the fire from spreading.

“Really. I’m sorry.” Alicia wiped the sweat drops tickling the side of her face with a dusty bandanna, keeping an eye on the fire line. Ghostly orange flames flickered through the gloom, and she instinctively covered her head as a crash of falling timber reverberated through the woods. “I just thought you meant something else.”

“Or
somebody
else,” Carlita muttered, gripping her fire rake to raise on cue. “I tell you what, for somebody who doesn’t like that Thomas fellow, you sure spend a lot of time thinking about him.”

Alicia avoided her eyes, trying to swallow the grit that lodged in her throat. “It’s not that I’m thinking about him exactly. But he’s … I don’t know. Different.” She coughed into her bandanna, and then softened her tone. “He seems to really care how I am, you know? And he keeps his eyes above my neckline, unlike half the guys on this crew.”

“Whew. Yeah.” Carlita laughed as she raised her fire rake and scooped deep into fresh brown soil.

Through the charred trees Alicia saw a faraway quiver of bright flame, and a swell of heat made sweat prickle on her neck. Distant trees roared and snapped.

The blaze was big all right—maybe even bigger than they were saying. And if the wind picked up from the wrong angle and caught them at the flank, they were toast. Literally.

Carlita groaned with effort as she tore out a clump of earth and stones with her fire rake, and Alicia raised hers with ash-dusty gloves.

“In all the years I’ve known Thomas, he’s never once tried to sleep with me—or even ask me out.” Alicia let out a grunt as she heaved her fire rake into the hard soil, making a soft thud as she tore open the earth. “I don’t know what to make of him.”

She dug the heavy blade out of the ground, turning over a fresh section of fragrant earth. Wishing she could turn her own life inside out and start over—or if it would even be worth the effort to try.

Carlita put her head down, red-faced, and mopped sweat from her forehead with the edge of her bandanna. “I don’t want to ask this the wrong way,” she said in hesitant tones, raising her eyes to Alicia. “But Thomas isn’t … you know. Gay. Is he?”

“What? No.” Alicia bristled, whirling around. “Why would you even ask something like that?”

“Dunno. Just wondering. You said he never asked you out or flirted with you, and with that new disease going around, you can’t be too careful.” Carlita shrugged. “I’ve never seen him hang out with the chicks.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Alicia snapped. “He’s been engaged twice, for your information. To
women
. One dumped him for some good-looking banker, and the other married her childhood sweetheart instead.” She shook her head in disgust. “Stupid girls.”

“He tell you all this?”

“No. Some of the other guys on the crew.”

“Oh.” Carlita smoothed her hair back into a ponytail and coughed into her bandanna. “Well, what’s wrong with him? Why doesn’t he ask you out?” She reached over and nudged Alicia with her elbow. “Or better, why don’t you ask him out? This is the ‘80s, you know. You don’t always have to be so old-fashioned.”

“I’m not old-fashioned.” Alicia pulled away. “But I can’t ask him out. I just … can’t.” She stepped forward with the other crew members, feeling like one in a line of trained monkeys. “He’s one of those Bible freaks. You know. Went to Bible college. Reading the scriptures and praying for people.”

She kept her eyes on the line of firefighters. “I just can’t get into it myself. I sure admire people who believe something as much as he does. But …” She messed with the grip tape on the end of her fire rake. “I’m not going to ask him out.”

“Hmph. What is he, some kind of freaky cult leader?”

“Nah. One of those regular old ‘born-again’ people, whatever that’s supposed to mean.” She squinted over at Carlita. “Do you believe in God? Or Jesus, as Thomas always talks about?”

“Sure I do.” Carlita’s eyes turned sober. “With all my heart. I used to go to Mass only at Christmas and Easter, but the older I get, the more I feel like there’s gotta be more than that.” She pressed dry lips together. “I’m … actually thinking of joining a Bible study.”

“A Bible study? You?”

“Why not? I might as well learn about what I’m supposed to believe, right?”

“Wow.” Alicia blew out her breath. “I didn’t know you were so thick with religion.”

“How about you?” Carlita kept her eyes on the row of firefighters, gripping her fire rake with both hands as they plunged and dug.

“What about me?”

“Do you believe in God?”

Alicia scrunched her eyebrows. “God? I don’t know, Carlita. Probably not.”

“Shouldn’t you decide?”

Alicia waited for Carlita to swing then hacked her fire rake into the soil. “If I believe in God or not? No.” She strained her back and shoulders with effort, digging her fire rake in deep and scooping up soil and rocks. “Why should I? If He exists, He certainly hasn’t done a good job of taking care of me. That’s all I’m saying.”

“You’re saying a lot more than that, muchacha.”

“Look.” Alicia stood up straight and banged her fire rake into the ground to shake off the dirt. “If you’re so all-fired about God, why don’t
you
ask Thomas out?” she flared. “You’d be a perfect match.”

“I’m old enough to be his mother,” Carlita growled. “And besides that, I’m married. Remember?” She pulled off her glove, revealing a carved wooden ring that didn’t heat against the skin like metal. “Or did you think I’d ditched Simón already?”

“Oh yeah,” Alicia said meekly, cringing in embarrassment. “I forgot. Six months, right?”

“Ten.” Carlita’s face twisted with anger. “Seems like you forget a lot of things, Alicia Sanchez. Maybe God’s been looking out for you a lot longer than you realize. That Mrs. Coffman woman you’ve mentioned before. Wasn’t she some sort of Christian?”

“Nope. An atheist.” Alicia faced Carlita with a triumphant smile, her sweaty hair hanging out of her ponytail and around her ears. “Gotcha.”

“You got me on nothing. It’s even more amazing.” Carlita raised a hand toward the ash-choked sky. “God used a woman that didn’t even believe in Him to carry out His will of cradling your heart and giving you your dearest childhood memories. Ever think of that?” She stuck her face closer, almost bumping noses with Alicia. “God,” she began, her voice fierce, “is far more concerned about you than you give Him credit for.” She straightened up. “That’s what I think. And it would do you good to consider that before you throw your life away.”

Alicia jumped, so startled she dropped her fire rake. “What are you talking about? Who said I’m throwing my life away?” She groped for the rake on the leaf-strewn ground.