sudden fiction: FIRE SEASON

The fire tore across the line of trees and we watched closely as they cringed and blackened in defeat. Carla said that we should turn the TV off, because we didn’t need to be depressed on the night before I left. Joe protested, said that we had to keep the news on in case the fire got too close and we had to evacuate. Mom asked if I had all my things ready. I said they were in a pile by the front door at home and she smiled proudly and squeezed my hand. Loredo watched us then got up and went over to the chips and salsa. He stood there with his hunched back turned to us and I could tell he was getting ready to say something. Mom asked Carla if she wanted more punch and Carla said sure. From inside you could see the sky over Joe and Carla’s house was a milky red, like blood spit into a sink. The smell of smoke seeped through the walls so that Joe kept coughing and saying we weren’t even safe inside, the air quality was so bad. The guy on the news said the fire was still fifty miles away from where we were but it was picking up speed. Our neighborhood was safe for now but we had to be prepared. Then Loredo turned around at the salsa bowl and said, You don’t have to do it, man. Everyone looked at him. Mom said, Loredo, be quiet. Your brother, he’s not afraid. Are you? Of course I’m not, I said. Loredo said, It’s not about being afraid, it’s about doing the right thing. And this shit ain’t right, man. You shouldn’t have to die for this. Carla put her hand over her heart, looked like someone had shot me in front of her. Mom said, He’s not going to die. How can you say such a thing. Carla’s eyes drifted to the Christ nailed to the wall above the front door. My eyes followed hers. The Christ had been up there so long he was missing one of his legs. Then Dad spoke up, from the armchair nearest the TV, the one with the duct tape holding it together. Without looking away from the screen he said, I don’t see you doing nothing for your country, Loredo. Why don’t you just shut up. Joe shifted in his seat uncomfortably and Loredo turned swiftly away. Mom was squeezing my hand like I might fly away if she didn’t hold me down. On TV the man said, Be careful out there folks, be careful.