Fire, The (40 page)

"You said we should discuss a few things, as in plural," he said. "Is there anything else you want to talk about before I scramble some eggs?"

Sarah nodded but didn't speak. She instead pulled the sheet over her bare chest, nestled into Kevin's side, and looked at him with wary eyes. When it appeared that she would not verbalize the second thing she wanted to discuss, he broke the silence.

"Well, what is it?"

"I want to go back to 1910."

"You want to go back?"

She nodded again.

"Why?" he asked.

"I want to take care of a few things."

"What kind of things?"

"I want to send a letter to my parents, collect some personal items at the house, and tender my resignation. I'd like to go back today."

Kevin groaned as his blissful morning took a not-so-blissful turn. He knew it was time to share a tidbit about the revolving-door time machine in Roger Johnson's backyard.

"Before we go further, Sarah, I have to tell you something about the portal."

"What's that?"

"It's unreliable when sending travelers forward – very unreliable. That may pose a problem for us as a couple. I don't know if the portal will consider the next trip to 1910 to be your first one back or my fourth one there. We may arrive on July 22 or we may not. The process seems to be random."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we may exit the chamber on January 1, April 15, or June 5. Think about how you would handle dealing with people we know on each of those dates – or any date before July 22."

"I understand."

"I'm not saying I won't ever go back. I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it. I just think we should talk about this some more before committing to a trip."

Sarah frowned and looked away before returning to Kevin.

"I want to see my family again, but if I can't, or at least can't for a while, I want to send them a letter telling them that I won't be coming home soon. I had planned to visit my parents in June and July, but I canceled those plans when I began dating you."

"Does your family know about me?"

Sarah nodded.

"I've mentioned you in several letters. My parents know that I'm seeing someone who is more than a casual acquaintance. They understand why I'm not coming home this summer. They would
not
understand if I never came home."

Kevin frowned slightly, drawing a response from Sarah. She tilted her head and met his eyes.

"Just how did you think this would work?" she asked.

"I figured we would pick a year and go from there. If we exited in February, then we would visit your folks in February. If we exited in October, then we would visit them then. They wouldn't know the difference. They would think we had spent the interim months or years living in Wallace or somewhere else."

"What about our friends and acquaintances?"

"What about them?" Kevin asked. "We said goodbye to Andy and Sadie. As for the rest, I took care of them by writing some letters."

"What letters?"

"I wrote three letters explaining that we had eloped and wouldn't return, at least to teach at the high school next year. I mailed one each to Maude, the Marshalls, and Ed Morrison."

Sarah leaned back and sighed.

"I'd still like to go back, at least once, to collect my things and put a letter in the mail."

Kevin grabbed her hand.

"There is one more thing. It's something I should have told you a long time ago."

"What?"

"There's going to be a fire, Sarah, a big one. It's going to burn half the Bitterroots and at least a third of Wallace. A lot of trees and buildings are going to go up in smoke and more than eighty people are going to die, and there's not a thing we can do about it."

"This will happen in 1910?"

Kevin nodded.

"When will it start?" Sarah asked, with alarm in her voice.

Kevin frowned. He might as well get this over with.

"It will start in July and August in a thousand places you've never heard of. It'll grow bigger and more intense and finally spin out of control on August 20 when it gets a push from the wind. The only thing anyone near it will be able to do is get out of its path, and a lot of people won't be able to do even that."

"Oh, Lord."

"That's why I was hesitant to tell you everything. There are risks to traveling back in time, risks that may not be worth taking or at least taking now."

"Did you say that the process is random?"

"I did. We have as much chance at arriving on August 20 as we do on any other date in 1910."

"That's one in 365. Those are good odds, Kevin."

Kevin sighed and then took a long look at the woman who had just talked him into doing something he didn't want to do. He knew she was right. She was usually right. In all probability, they would arrive on a date that was not only safe but also one they could manage.

"They are. If you want to go back today, then we'll go back today."

Sarah smiled softly and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you."

Kevin glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand and saw that it was eight fifteen. It was time to get moving, particularly if he wanted to complete his next excursion before his family returned from Spokane.

"I should probably get started on breakfast. Do you have any requests?"

Sarah flashed a mischievous grin.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"What?"

"I want some more of your affection."

CHAPTER 69: KEVIN

Kevin knew he had a problem before he cracked the first egg. Even if he wanted to make a quick trip back to 1910, he might not be able to. The portal was active only in the light of a solstice sun or the shadow of the fullest moon. The solstice, June 21, had come and gone. All that remained was a shadow that he had not even begun to understand.

That didn't stop him from at least trying to honor her request. After they showered, ate breakfast, and changed back into what Kevin now called their period costumes, they walked out of the house at ten after ten and proceeded directly to the chamber of stones.

"Do you think it will work?" Sarah asked.

"I hope so. If it doesn't, we'll try again tomorrow night. The moon will be full then and we won't have to worry about shadows or solstices or anything else."

Kevin spelled out MCMX in 22-carat gold and then stood back. After waiting a full minute, he picked up the double eagles, stuffed them into the pocket of his Stan Laurel suit, and grabbed the hand of his Gibson-girl fiancée.

"Here we go again," he said.

Kevin shut the door to the shed and said goodbye to the bright morning sun. A moment later, he pulled Sarah close, kissed her cheek, and waited for an outcome that was anything but certain.

He noticed a change about two minutes in, but it was anything but welcome. Though the temperature of the air remained roughly the same, the quality of the air did not. Thick smoke, the kind one might associate with a kitchen fire, began to spill through the vents and fill the shed.

"I don't like this."

"Neither do I," Sarah said.

"Let's get out."

When Kevin opened the door and led Sarah out of the chamber into what he assumed was Asa Johnson's backyard, his stomach dropped. Thick smoke filled a strangely dark sky and made breathing decidedly difficult. If this was not the day of the fire, it was definitely the day before. If his latest adventure was a game of time-travel craps, he had just rolled snake eyes.

"You're not thinking what I'm thinking, are you?" she asked.

"I am. I'm not sure we should stick around. We can always try again tomorrow."

Sarah let go of his hand, walked deeper into the yard, and examined her surroundings.

"It's still the early evening. I can tell by the temperature. When did that fire reach Wallace?"

"I think it was around nine at night, according to a book I read. I don't remember. I think we should go, Sarah. We can even try again the minute we get back. We're bound to get February or October the next time."

Sarah looked at Kevin and then took another visual inventory of the neighborhood, or what she could see of it. When she was done, she stepped forward and grabbed his hand.

"The Marshalls are just down the street. Let's see if they're home. If they're not, we'll come straight back and try another time. OK?"

Kevin didn't like the idea at all, but he couldn't think of a good counterargument. If there was a monster fire out there, then it was still at least an hour or two away. He would be able to hear it long before he saw it. He also knew the rock shed would not burn to the ground in their absence. Walking a few blocks, therefore, was an acceptable risk.

When they arrived at the stately home of George and Bertha Marshall ten minutes later, they found the front door unlocked. Sarah opened the door slowly and led Kevin into a small receiving room she had passed through hundreds of times.

"George? Bertha? Is anyone home?" she asked.

"Maybe you should just get your things," Kevin said. "I'll stay here."

Sarah nodded.

"I'll only be a moment."

When she walked out of the parlor and out of sight, Kevin looked around the room and saw several items of interest. The first was a clock on a mantle, a clock with a big hand on the twelve and a small hand on the six. It may have looked like midnight outside, but it was only 6 p.m.

Kevin then turned his attention to three oil paintings of Civil War battle scenes. The first portrayed Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg, the others scenes from Antietam and Cold Harbor. Even though the War Between the States was forty-five years distant, it still raged in the home of one resident of Wallace, Idaho, and presumably in his mind.

Kevin walked across the room to a framed photograph of a young man in the crisp uniform of an Army private. He didn't remember the young man's name, but he knew his story.

George and Bertha's oldest son had been part of a regiment ordered to disarm Lakota living on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in what was then the brand-new state of South Dakota. When his regiment had encountered resistance, Private Marshall and others began shooting not only at those they had come to subdue but apparently also at each other. His friendly-fire death on December 29, 1890, at the start of the Wounded Knee Massacre, had been one of the last of the American Indian wars.

Kevin was about to pick up the photo of the soldier who would never know what it was like to get married, have a family, and grow old when he heard a familiar voice.

"I think I have everything," Sarah said.

She held onto a cloth bag that appeared to contain at least two framed photographs, a quilted table runner, and a book that looked familiar.

"It looks like you made a haul. What all do you have in there?"

"I grabbed the pictures of my family, a quilt I've been working on, some stationery, stamps, and few other items."

"I've seen that book before," Kevin said.

"I'm sure you have. It belonged to Maude. She gave it to me in June."

"What is it?"

"It's a first-edition copy of
Little Women
, signed by Louisa May Alcott."

Kevin's eyes widened.

"Maude wanted me to have it because she knew I would take care of it and give it the reverence it deserves," she said "I imagine it's probably worth a pretty penny in 2013."

"That's an understatement. Are you ready to go?"

"I'm ready. I left a note for the Marshalls telling them that we stopped by and would contact them again once we got settled. I presume that we will at some point be able to do that."

"We will. We'll be able to come back to this time and this town, even if we can't come back to this house."

"Speaking of this house, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"What's that?" Kevin asked.

"You told me last night, when we sat on the bench, that the Marshall house had burned to the ground many years ago. Did you mean to say that it burned in the Great Fire?"

Kevin nodded.

"My grandfather told me that all the houses on Garnet Street except his were destroyed or damaged so badly that they had to be torn down."

"
This
house will burn tonight?"

"This house will go. There won't be anything left."

Sarah brought a hand to her mouth.

"We have to warn the Marshalls."

"How can we do that? They're not home. Do you want to leave another note?"

Sarah walked to a window and looked out at the street.

"No. I have a better idea. Let's go outside."

Sarah led Kevin by the hand out the front door and down the steps to Garnet Street, which had darkened even in the short time they had spent in the house. When they reached the street, she waved to a woman Kevin knew by sight but not by name.

"It's a little smoky tonight," she said to the woman as they crossed the street.

"Sarah Thompson, is that you?"

"Yes, it is."

"I'd heard that you'd eloped."

"You heard correctly," Sarah said. "Marie, this is my husband, Kevin Johnson. He is the man who filled Mr. Monroe's vacancy at the high school. Kevin, this is Marie Denton. She and her husband run the roller-skating rink."

Kevin laughed to himself as he pondered his rapid upgrade from fiancé to husband and then looked at Sarah's plainly-dressed neighbor, who appeared to be in her early twenties and at least four or five months pregnant. He extended a hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

"The pleasure's mine, Mr. Johnson."

"Where's Daniel?"

"He volunteered to help on the fire lines south of town. Things are getting pretty bad there. I don't expect to see him before tomorrow."

"Can I ask you a question, Mrs. Denton?" Kevin asked.

"I suppose that depends on the question, Mr. Johnson," she said with obvious amusement.

"What day is this?"

"It's Saturday, of course . . . Saturday, August 20."

Kevin closed his eyes for a second.

"Did I say something wrong?" Marie asked.

"No. You didn't say anything wrong," Sarah asked. "We're just a little concerned about the fires and all this smoke. Do you know where I can find George and Bertha? I had hoped to catch them at home, but it appears that they're out."