“Enough of this. We have to get you to Scottie so you can shoot some deer or a wild pig or whatever else you guys have in mind.”
“Yes, and I promise, we’ll talk about it some more when we come back.”
I’m not sure whether I want that. This young man has a thing or two to learn about me. People say talking about stuff is a good thing. However, moaning about it over and over again smacks too much like self-pity. I have no intention to start on that track. He means well, I’m sure. I plan to enjoy the coming week of solitude without threats of a good talk. If Tom needs a good cause to stick his teeth into, he must find a better one than me.
I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. It’s now past midday and I promised Scottie to deliver his friend in time for lunch. Short after we leave the highway and turn into Flatbush Creek Road I have to stop and let two oncoming pickup trucks pass.
“Who was that?” Tom turned his head and leaned out of the window. “They drove like maniacs.”
I understand now why Scottie asked him to come along for the week. He needs to unwind big time.
“Maybe they were workers from the Department of Conservation. DOC is always fixing a hut or a path. Nobody else has any business here. It’s only Scott and us living on this road.”
I yawn. It’s time for my nap. When you have other parts up and about half of the night, you run out of energy and need your after-lunch-nap. I turn into the gravel road to Scottie’s cabin when wafts of smoke greet us.
“It seems to be coming from Scottie’s direction.”
Tom’s voice sounds nervous and I put my foot down. The car jumps ahead and swings from right to left on the windy path. The smell becomes stronger and a horrible sense of foreboding settles in my gut. Tendrils of smoke are clouding my view and red-orange flames are flickering here and there through the trees.
“Call the fire brigade. Hurry!”
I point to my cell-phone on the dashboard, fear careering through my body, taking my breath away. Seconds later stop with squealing tires in the hut’s driveway. Raging flames greet us, greedily devouring what was Scottie’s cabin.
“No! Scottie!”
I scream and fly out of the car toward the cabin. Tears are running down my cheek. The heat takes my breath away as I grip the handle of the cabin’s front door. I smell burned skin and hair. I have to get to Scott. Tom doesn’t let go, not even when we are at a safe distance.
I drop to the ground and stare at my blistered hands. Blinded by my tears I hadn’t even noticed the singeing hot door handle.
“You can’t go in there. Look at your hands and your hair.”
Through a haze, I hear Tom’s words, but they make little sense.
Skin and hair? Who cares?
“Let me go.”
I wrestle against his firm grip, jabbing and biting to get free. With no success. I’m sobbing hysterically, choking and coughing and spitting out smoke. Ash is filling the air now, falling like snow.
“Scottie!”
My voice is hoarse as if heat and smoke have charred my lungs.
“Scottie might still be alive.”
The words fall in sobs from my lips like puffs of smoke. They are the desperate cries of the Tribe. Our minds reach out to the flames, unwilling to accept that nobody could have survived this burning inferno.
“Calm down. There’s nothing we can do.”
Tom doesn’t let go of my arm no matter how hard I try to shake him off. I try to punch him but he pins my hands to his chest.
“Shh, Lilly. Shh.”
My vision goes red from rage. How dare fate rip my love, my future from me! I don’t want to calm down. Right now I’m a whole lot crazier than I’ve ever been because standing twenty yards away and not able to do anything is killing me.
I hear sobbing in the back of my mind. When it stops it’s as if someone pushed the mute button on a remote control. There is nothing but an eerie silence inside my head. Like the silence, I imagine there to be when you’re in a diving bell sinking to the bottomless darkness of the ocean. My body is going cold and numb. All emotions drain out of me, like grains of sand slipping through the hourglass, leaving behind little more than a lifeless shell.
It can’t be. “Scott, Scottie!” I fight Tom’s arms but they don’t give. He even pulls me further back as the heat discharged from the burning hut becomes unbearable. Orange flames rise with thunderous howls into the grey afternoon sky. The fire whips around the house, charging at the walls, and attacking the roof overhang with angry force. It ravages everything in its way until the cabin is standing in the clearing like a giant torch.
It has started to rain properly now and I wipe the film of moisture off my face. It’s too late. Not even the steady West Coast rain can stop this hellfire. I can’t bear watching it, but I also can’t turn away. Something explodes inside the hut and a giant plume of fire and smoke rolls towards us. Its heat makes me jump even further back.
“Where is the fire brigade? What’s taking them so long?” I cough to expel the smoke from my lungs. My eyes are stinging and I cover my nose with my arm to avoid the nauseating stench of burning wood, chemicals, petrol, and plastic.
“They can’t be far away.” Tom puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me toward him. He wipes my tears away and worry is clouding his eyes. He shouldn’t worry about me, not when Scott … I don’t dare to finish that thought. Tears are streaming down my face. I cough. Bloody smoke.
“Here…,” he tears off a piece
