Authors: Elizabeth Starr Hill
Wildfire!
Table of Contents
To my good friend Ruth Stewart, with thanks
âE.S.H.
Ben took one more biscuit, slathered it with Goomby's wildâorange marmalade, and stuffed it into his mouth. His grandparents had already finished breakfast. Goomby, his great-grandmother, had eaten just a few quick bites, and was through. Smiling, she asked Ben, “Want more?”
He shook his head. They put all the dishes in the sink and joined Grandpa in the living room.
Grandpa was watching the TV news. The pictures on the screen were scary. They showed orange and red flames crackling through trees, torching giant pines as though they were toothpicks. The weather had been very hot and dry for weeks. Wildfires were burning all over Florida. New ones blazed up every day.
“These are south of here, but they're in our forest,” Grandpa said.
“How far?” Goomby asked.
“Down around Worthington,” Grandpa answered his mother. “Far enough to be safe.”
“This time. For now,” Goomby answered.
“Yes. For now.” Grandpa's voice was strong and reassuring, but his lean tanned face showed his worry. They all knew how sparks could travel in the air, starting a new fire someplace else.
Their little village of Bending Creek had no fire department of its own. There had not been a bad fire here for years, but if there were, they would have to depend on firefighters coming from Carville, the nearest big town. That was thirty miles away.
“More coffee?” Goomby asked her son. Grandma had already gone to her waitress job at the Happy Day Café.
“No, gotta get to work. Full crew coming in today.”
He ruffled Ben's hair. “Be good, you two.”
He ruffled Ben's hair. “Be good, you two.”
Goomby grinned. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Grandpa laughed. He picked up the lunch she had packed for him and left for his job at the sawmill.
Goomby turned off the TV and bustled away to wash the breakfast dishes. Ben joined her in the kitchen.
Out the window, the familiar woods looked strange and a little frightening. Even though the fires were far away, the smoke had spread here, gathering in tall pines and oaks and vines and scrub palmettos, blurring all the forest greens.
“How about doing an errand for me in town?” Goomby asked Ben. “I need a couple more things for tomorrow.”
Tomorrow was the Fourth of July. Goomby always prepared a lot of food for the holiday.
Ben was glad to help her. His parents had been killed in a car crash six years ago, when he was four years old.
Ben and his parents had lived in another town
then. He hadn't known his grandparents and Goomby very well.
then. He hadn't known his grandparents and Goomby very well.
He had a confused memory of relatives coming to the house, trying to decide what would happen to him. Then Goomby had said, “Ben belongs to us. He's coming home with us.”
Others in the family had argued that this might make too much work for her. But she always answered, “I'm sixty-eight, not a hundred and ten. And
he's our boy.
”
he's our boy.
”
Ben never forgot that. “He's our boy.” His sorrow and fear had begun to lift in that moment.
Grandma and Grandpa had agreed, of course. But in Ben's heart it had really been Goomby's decision. She had given him this home and this life.
He told her, “I'll do your errands right now, if you want.”
“Oh, good.” She gave him some money and a list.
Cornmeal, beans, molasses, red cabbage and white cabbage for two-color coleslaw, one ripe avocado.
Ben knew he could get all this in Mr. Meehan's grocery store. Goomby also wanted two tiny lamps for a dollhouse she was making for a church sale. He would have to go to Cindy's Craft Shop for those.
Ben knew he could get all this in Mr. Meehan's grocery store. Goomby also wanted two tiny lamps for a dollhouse she was making for a church sale. He would have to go to Cindy's Craft Shop for those.
“Okay.” He went off, whistling.
He passed the American flag Grandpa had put on the porch in honor of the Fourth of July. There were flags on all the neighbors' porches, too. They made patches of bright color on the little houses along the dusty road.
Ben loved the Fourth. Tomorrow there would be an all-day celebration in Bending Creek Park âa parade, then the picnic, then games and contests and a speech by Mayor Jolson. It was the same speech every year, about how this was a day to remember, the day America became a free country. Then a band concert and more eating.
Usually the day ended with fireworks over the lake. Grandpa had bought a box a month ago so he and Ben could set off some just for fun, before the official display. But fireworks were banned this
year because of the fire danger. Still, there would be plenty of other things to do.
year because of the fire danger. Still, there would be plenty of other things to do.
At the grocery, Mr. Meehan weighed out cornmeal and beans. He chose a perfect avocado. He wedged in a jar of molasses. With the two cabbages, the food almost filled up a big brown paper bag.
“Got room in there for a few caramels?” he asked Ben.
“Sure do!” Ben said eagerly. Mr. Meehan threw them in without charge.
Ben thanked him and left the grocery. He turned onto a side road for Cindy's Craft Shop, happy about the caramels.
As he came around the corner, he saw Elliot Lorton outside Cindy's. Elliot called to him, “Hi, Ben! How you folks doing, off there in the backwoods?” He sounded friendly, but Ben heard an edge of scorn in his voice.
Ben's spirits sank. Elliot and his parents had recently moved to Bending Creek from a northern city. Elliot seemed to think his city ways made him better than the people of Bending Creekâ
and especially better than Ben, who was, as Elliot kept reminding him, only a boy living on a dirt road in the backwoods.
and especially better than Ben, who was, as Elliot kept reminding him, only a boy living on a dirt road in the backwoods.
Ben hurried into Cindy's shop without responding and tried to slam the door shut, but Elliot followed right behind him.
Now, Ben realized, he would have to buy two tiny lamps. That made him feel foolish. He hoped Elliot wouldn't notice what he was buying.
“Why, hello, Ben,” Cindy said cordially from behind the counter. She had a loud voice. “Looking for something for the dollhouse?”
Ben's cheeks flushed. He mumbled, “Lamps.”
Cindy brought some out from the rear of the store. Elliot grinned, but he didn't say anything.
Ben muttered an explanation about Goomby's project. “I'll take those two.” He thrust the money at Cindy, longing to get out of there. She put the lamps in a little box and gave him his change. He stuffed it all in with the groceries and bolted from the shop.
Elliot came with him. “You and your folks going to move into a dollhouse?” He chuckled. “Not much of a change for you, I guess.”
Elliot never missed a chance to remind Ben that their home was only a wooden bungalow in a clearing in the woods, while the LortonsâElliot and his mother and fatherâlived in a nice big house in town.
Ben didn't answer this. He said, “Well, so long,” and sprinted around the corner.
But Elliot was right there with him. “What's the rush? It's too hot to hurry.”
It was. The withering heat, laced with smoke from the fires, made the air feel hard to breathe, and carrying the big grocery bag didn't help. Ben slowed down. They trudged along silently, kicking up dust from the dry dirt road.
As they neared Ben's bungalow, Elliot asked, “Do animals live in the woods?”
“Sure. Millions of 'em.”
Elliot glanced at the trees beside the road. “You see them much?”
A squirrel chittered in a pine. An armadillo rustled through some fallen palm fronds, right beside the road. Ben said, “There's a couple right there.”
“I meant bigger animals.”
“We see deer a lot, mostly when it's getting dark. Foxes sometimes. There's bears and bobcats too, but they don't come out as much. And where the creek goes through the trees, there's alligators, andâ”
“Snakes?” Elliot broke in.
“Well, yeah. Sure.”
Elliot shied away from the woods. “What a place to live,” he said in disgust. Then he added amiably, “No offense.”
Ben gritted his teeth. This was
his
place to live, and he liked it. And he didn't like Elliot for trying to make him ashamed of it.
his
place to live, and he liked it. And he didn't like Elliot for trying to make him ashamed of it.
They reached his house. Elliot said, “Air-conditioning would feel good right now. But I guess you don't have that.”
“Yes, we do,” Ben answered stiffly. “You can come in, if you want.”
Elliot followed him.
It was cool in the bungalow. Their air conditioners were noisy window units, but they worked fine.
Goomby said hello to Elliot. He answered quickly and politely, “Morning, ma'am. Another hot day.”
Goomby nodded. She thanked Ben for the groceries and the change and put them away. “These must be for you.” She gave him the caramels. Ben stuffed them in his pocket for later.
She opened the box with the little lamps in it. Ben hoped any talk about them would be brief.
“They're perfect,” Goomby said. “How about some lemonade? You boys thirsty?”
“Yes!” Ben said.
“That would be great.” Elliot smiled.
They sat at the kitchen table. Goomby poured out two big glasses. While they drank the sweet cold lemonade, she put a ham on to boil. They would have it sliced cold at the picnic tomorrow. She rolled chicken pieces in cornmeal and placed them in the big skillet to fry. The kitchen began to smell delicious.
Ben and Elliot seemed to have nothing more to say to each other, and Ben wished the other boy
would leave. But Elliot looked as if he were settling down for a while. He hummed, sipped the last of his drink, tapped his fingers on the table. He looked bored. Elliot often looked that way, as if there were better things to doâanywhere but here.
would leave. But Elliot looked as if he were settling down for a while. He hummed, sipped the last of his drink, tapped his fingers on the table. He looked bored. Elliot often looked that way, as if there were better things to doâanywhere but here.
“Want to play checkers?” Ben asked finally. He was getting bored himself, just sitting here.
Elliot shrugged. “I guess so.”
They played three games. Elliot lost all three. Ben was pretty good at checkers, but Elliot said he was used to playing with much better players and that Ben's blunders had thrown him off his game.
Ben snorted and replied, “Oh, yeah? Last year I beat three champions over in Carville. There was a contest and they'd already played some other guys, and these were the winners, and I beat 'em all.”
This wasn't quite trueâhe had actually beaten one of them and lost to the other twoâbut today Elliot had lost fair and square, and Ben hated his attitude. He tossed the pieces in the box and
folded the board, saying, “That's enough checkers.”
folded the board, saying, “That's enough checkers.”
At last Elliot got up to leave. Then Miss Alice, their neighbor up the road, rang her I've-got-news bell, and Goomby said, “Oh, dear, I wonder what Alice wants to tell us. I hope it's nothing bad.”
Elliot rolled his eyes. One of the many things he thought was funny about Bending Creek was the way people rang bells to say things, but Ben knew it was a good system, here in the country. Mr. Hendrick, who lived on the other side of Miss Alice, always used a brass bell to call his cats in at night. Goomby rang her noisy old come-home bell to call the family in to supper. And Miss Alice gathered the neighbors this way when she had something special to say.
Ben liked the bells. They were like voices to him, the voices of Bending Creekâhis family, his neighbors, his friends.
Goomby turned off the burner under the ham. She finished frying the chicken and put the pieces
onto paper toweling to drain and cool. She turned off that burner, too, and double-checked to be sure she hadn't left anything on. The threat of fire made everyone extra careful.
onto paper toweling to drain and cool. She turned off that burner, too, and double-checked to be sure she hadn't left anything on. The threat of fire made everyone extra careful.
Then she whisked off her apron and they all went next door to hear Miss Alice's news.
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