Wildfire Majesties

In the last two days, wildfires have been sweeping Big Sur in California, wiping out thousands of acres of land. This story has stayed with me now and a quickly evolving short story emerged.

Wildfire Majesties

{what appears to be ‘Chapter One’}

When the news goes out that school is to be temporarily closed, she is elated. A tremor of excitement spreads from her toes, to the tip of her nose. Her cheeks have a pink tinge, dotted with freckles, and she bounces up and down, tugging at her pigtails.

“Catie, calm down sweetie.”

Her mother was lounging on the sofa, in a dead collapse. Her face was taut with sympathy and pity for the ten year olds naïve attitude. Carmel Valley Middle School was being closed, not for snow. Thousands of flames had swallowed up the forests of Big Sur, California, and her daughter’s school was to be an evacuation center. The news was on, but the droning voices of reporters attempting to make their big breaks by covering this tragedy were lost in white noise.

Catie, still bouncing, hopped up on the couch beside her mom begging,

“Can I go play at Heather’s, mom? Please?”

Her mother waved a hand, her eyes still fixed on the television set, picking up only her daughters shrill voice over the dead roar in her ears. Watching the wildfire was an intoxicating nightmare. The mother wondered in awe what had made Mother Nature pissed, as over fifty thousand acres of woodlands and animal habitats were erased. Highways were closed, and the spectacular coastline image of Big Sur was gone forever.

Catie’s enthusiasm refused to be dampened. With the mother’s lack of response, she naturally assumed that it was a ‘yes’, and she scurried out the door. It scared her slightly, to see her mother so attuned to what was on the television. After all, it wasn’t Hannah Montana’s latest show, or even one of those comedy routines her father loved so much. Watching the fire was boring, and predictable. It wasn’t as though the forest was going to get up and fight back.

Slamming her fist on Heather’s door, Catie contented herself to wait by chewing idly on her hair. Heather’s mother appeared the same stricken and terrified look across her face. It softened when she realized that Catie sat on the step, and she offered,

“Heather’s inside.”

With a wide grin cracking over her features, Catie bounced into the room, yelling out excitedly, “Heather! We don’t have school tomorrow!”

Heather’s voice came from up the stairs, and Catie scurried up them, one, two, three steps at a time. Bursting into her best friend’s room, she found Heather across her bed lazily, her feet in the air.

“Heather, did you see?”

The all important age of eleven, Heather nodded with a grin, and said wisely, “It’s because of the fires you know. Carmel’s taking in the refugees.”

“Car-a-mel.” Catie’s sing song recital of the school’s name pressed the grin off of Heather’s lips.

“Now you’ve made me want the candy.” 

“I want to see this fire.” Catie spoke her own wish quickly, before Heather had even begun to imagine the candy. Heather’s listless perch was abandoned as she sat up in shock. 

“What?”

“Don’t you remember the game we used to play?” Catie’s fervor refused to be abandoned as she climbed up on the bed beside Heather. She indicated the many drawings around the room of their old game, which Heather had left up.

“We were seven.” Heather paused, speaking as though this was a lifetime ago. “And this would be real.”

The two of them had invented a kingdom at that tender age. With the woodland animals of their court, they were named with honor. Queen Heather, for she was eldest and wore a crown from one of the dress up princess games, and Princess Catie, who wore rings of daisies around her neck. Their fairytale was a story of magic and dragons, with long dress up gowns torn in the process of running through the forest behind Heather’s house. Crayon drawn flags, and taking only flowers for remembrance, they were always kind enough to leave clip on earrings in return for the forest to take. It was how they proved they were thankful for being allowed in.

“Real! With real fire to see, and vanquish to save our kingdom from! No prince charming necessary, it’s up to us!” After a second, Catie added forgetfully, “Your majesty.” Diving for the old trunk, and dragging out their old dresses, Catie beamed as she held it up.

And Heather found it quite easy to slip into their old game.