Everyone claps in acknowledgment. It’s something we usually do at Fire Circle, and it’s a reassuring sound. It means that everyone is willing to share and be themselves despite Roxanne and Allie taking notes.
“For me,” Georgia starts, touching her hand to her chest. “I mean, you would think that losing part of my leg would be the biggest adjustment. Well, okay, I guess it was, but I knew going in that getting injured was part of the job. Some people didn’t come back and here I am, my tummy full of those delicious biscuits. I’m one of the lucky ones.”
The group gives a collective, “Hear that.”
“But honestly …” Georgia’s fingers idly twist a leather bracelet around her wrist. “It was the loss of routine that threw me. Everybody thinks the best part about getting out is the freedom. No more schedules. No more inspections. No more somebody breathing down your neck about what time to eat, what to wear, when to sleep.” She shrugs, voice lighter than the weight of her words. “At first, I did enjoy it. My first week home, I slept ’til noon every day and thought I’d hit the jackpot. By the second week, I couldn’t get out of bed at all.”
The group is silent now, the fire snapping softly between us.
“When nobody’s expecting you to show up, you start to wonder if you matter enough to show up at all. I realized how much I needed the structure and routine. I numbed out for so long, until I realized that was only making things worse.” Georgia taps a finger against her thigh. “That’s what Firebird gave me again. A reason to wake up and move. A reason to eat three damn meals a day instead of coffee, cigarettes and guilt.”
There’s a wave of nods and murmurs of agreement from the circle, and Topper smiles at Georgia and rubs her back.
Topper then raises his hand and clears his throat. “You know what got me? After I got back? Driving.” The group quiets as he continues. “I’d be heading down I-25, going ten under like a damn retiree in a Buick, and I’d see something on the shoulder, a cardboard box, a tire tread, hell, once it was a plastic grocery bag, and I’d feel my whole body lock up like I was back on route clearance.”
He exhales through his nose, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
“My brain knew I was stateside. Knew I was headed to King Soopers to pick up frozen pizza and beer, but my gut said ‘Don’t ease up, don’t get comfortable, that box could blow your damn truck sideways.’ That’s what people don’t understand. It’s not always the memories that get you, it’s the wiring that sticks around. Your body doesn’t know you’re safe, even when you’re home.”
I know exactly what that feels like. “Thanks for sharing, bud.”
Topper gives a somber nod. “Yeah, sure. Thanks, y’all, for listening.”
Finally, after everyone opened up in some way, I see Garrett looking bored and agitated. I wish that hearing everyone else share their stories would have had some impact on him.
“Garrett?” I ask. “You wanna add anything?”
He shakes his head. “This is all a fucking waste of time. I shouldn’t even be here. I’m only doing this so my parents will get off my back.”
“If you’re not going to have respect for what’s happening in the Circle, then maybe you should turn in for the night,” Rusty says.
Garrett shoots to his feet. “Fine with me. Y’all enjoy your bedtime stories.”
The fire crackles on and the moment passes, but the air never quite settles after that. One by one, everyone decides it’s as good of a time as any to call it a night. Rusty’s chatting with some of the others while Topper and Allie hang back, laughing about something under their breath.
“I’ll walk you back to our spot,” I say to Roxanne as she says goodnight to Allie.
Her eyebrows arch. “Ourspot?”
I cringe. How did I let that slip? “I mean, your spot … which happens to be next to mine, I mean, near, because there was no more room in camp.”
Roxanne pauses, glancing around to see that there was plenty of room in the camp. “Right. Not a lot of room out here.”
We walk in silence and stop outside her tent. I should just tell her goodnight, tip my cap and turn my boots back to my own tent, but I linger. She unzips her tent, but turns to me before getting in. Like an idiot, I still half hope she’ll tug me inside with her.
“Thank you for letting Allie and me be a part of this tonight. I’m honored that everyone felt comfortable sharing. Even though I don’t exactly love it out here, I’m happy I came.”
“And you didn’t end up having to wrestle a bear,” I say. Then, because I can’t stop myself, I reach out and tuck a stray piece of blond hair behind her ear.
She laughs, leaning her cheek into my hand. It is the smallest movement, but I feel it in my bones.
“Thank you, also, for what you said about me in the beginning,” she says.
“It was easy to say since it’s true.”
Her mouth opens like she might say something else, but then she touches my arm and ducks inside her tent.
I stand there a long minute after the flap falls shut. I wished to hell I was a braver man, or a dumber one, who could tell her what’s eating me alive. Instead, I turn back toward my own tent, alone under a sky so wide and dark it could swallow me whole.
