I openthe cupboard and stare into it.Two days ago, we were fully stocked with every cereal under the sun, but today, we’re down to Grape Nuts and Raisin Bran.I want to be annoyed at the other guys for eating the Lucky Charms like a bunch of children, but that’s what I wanted to eat, so I don’t have a leg to stand on.
I grab the Raisin Bran, pour some into a bowl, put milk in, then grab my coffee and head into the living room.There are guys sitting in almost every seat, all watching something on the TV, empty cereal bowls and mugs on the coffee table and the floor.
It feels like a frat house in here.At least, this is what I assume a frat house feels like.We’re older, probably a little less hungover, and quieter, but we’re still wearing nothing but boxers and openly scratching our balls.
I sit on an easy chair with my cereal, balance my cup of coffee on the floor, and take a bite of raisin bran.It’s gross, but I’m hungry, and to be honest, I eat worse most of the time.
We don’t talk much, but only because there’s nothing to say.I’m with these guys pretty much 24/7 for six months, so it’s not as if there’s a lot of new information for anyone to impart.Someone gets the hiccups, farts, or sneezes, everyone knows.
I’m just assuming they know something is up with me and Clementine, even though I’m not exactly sure there is.Not that we talk much about relationships.
There’s some movie on TV.Something with a lot of explosions, and one guy in particular seems to always be running away from them, then getting thrown forward dramatically.Every time he does, a couple of the guys in the room chuckle.
Explosions don’t work that way atall.Not even close.Take it from a bunch of guys who’ve seen it.
I try to concentrate on the movie, but it’s hard.Clementine gets back from Ashlake today, and I haven’t heard from her for two days, even though I almost texted her a thousand times.
She wanted a couple of days.I gave her a couple of days, even though I hate feeling like this, like I’m sitting around, waiting for someone to decide about me.
It’s not what I do.It’s not how I operate: I decide on a girl, and Igether.I don’t wait around, hoping she’ll decide she likes me.
Except, apparently, I do.For Clementine, I do.
Shit.
After a while, Silas comes in.He’s fully dressed, and stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.We all look over at him.
“Utah’s on fire,” he says.“Might be big.”
“What part?”
“North of Salt Lake City, close to Idaho,” he says, and points at the TV.“Look at the Weather Channel, they’ve got it.”
Whoever has the remote flips the channel, but it’s on commercial.
“Where are we now?”someone else asks.
It sounds like a dumb question, but we’ve been traveling all summer from one place to another, and they start to look alike after a little while.Hell, in June I thought we were in Idaho for an entire week when we were actually in Oregon.
“Montana,” I say.
“Does that border Utah?”he asks.
“Nah, Wyoming’s in between,” I say.
“Right,” he says.“I thought there was something.”
The weather news comes back up, and we sit through the forecast to hear about the fire.Wecouldgo get our phones and look it up, but when we’re not working eighteen-hour days, we tend to be pretty lazy.
At last, they talk about the Wasatch fire.Started sometime yesterday, northeast of Salt Lake City, already thirty thousand acres.Zero percent contained.
Shit.I guess I know where we’re headed next, unless a miracle happens.
I’ve only been doing this for two fire seasons, but I keep hearing that this is the worst anyone can remember.The western United States, and especially California, has been in a serious drought for ages, so the forests are pretty dried up.There are places where you could drop a match and a thousand acres would be gone an hour later.
That’s probably what happened here, actually.Something like ninety percent of forest fires are started by humans.People who drop cigarettes, who leave campfires burning, that kind of shit.I wish they wouldn’t, but then I’d just be working at my parents’ ranch year round, and Ilikethis job.
“We going?”I ask.
