Fire at the River's Edge

by Piper Stone

  Stoker eased the cooler onto the riverbank and placed his fishing rod onto the scarred picnic table before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Sorry. Woke up kinda late.” He gazed up at the mountains, savoring their majestic beauty. He’d grown up in Missoula, had no intentions of leaving. The mighty Blackfoot river was filled with fish, the cool waters rippling across miles of rocks and vegetation was a perfect sanctuary for wildlife.

  “Va-ness-a,” Said seductively, Cooper smiled and donned his sunglasses. “Come on, brother. The fish are-a-bitin’. Water’s kinda rough though. Not a day to be swimming. That’s for certain.”

  He grabbed a beer before snagging his rod, and as he walked toward the edge of the river, he wondered what his life would be like in five, ten years. The thought giving him a moment of angst, he realized he wasn’t quite ready to plan next month, let alone next year. Popping the top, he took a long swig and stood watching the water tumbling over the rocks. The day was perfect for windsurfing. “It’s beautiful here.”

  “Absolutely. Perfect time to fish is on Labor Day.”

  “Yeah.” He heard the strangled sound of his voice and when he looked down, he realized he was gripping the bottle to the point his knuckles were white. The day was almost too perfect. Swallowing, he wasn’t certain why his throat was clenching. He took another gulp of beer and grimaced.

  “Okay, what gives?” Cooper asked as he sat down, leaning back on the grassy knoll.

  “What?” Blinking, he shook away the cobwebs. “Just reflective today.”

  “Right. You’re so full of shit. Spill it.”

  Casting his line, Stoker watched as the slender wire cascaded into the air above the water, hitting almost exactly where he’d hoped the bait would land. “Vanessa broke up with me.”

  “What? That’s a terrible joke.” Chuckling, he shook his head. When Stoker said nothing, he squinted and looked in his friend’s direction. “You’re not kidding.”

  “Nope. She thinks I’m going to die as a smokejumper.”

  “Did you explain to her how well we’re trained, that we plan for our jumps and the various conditions? Did you try to get her to stay?”

  He thought about the basic questions, but none of the answers seemed to matter. “The simple fact is that anything can happen at any time to change our lives. We can be hit by a car or die in a fire in the line of duty. When our time is up, there’s little we can do.”

  Cooper let out a long swath of air. “Jesus, guy. We’re celebrating a holiday. Damn morbid. I’m sorry about Vanessa and all, but maybe it’s for the best.”

  “The best?” He snapped his head in Cooper’s direction. “Explain that one to me, you who hasn’t had an actual girlfriend in what, three years? You’re a great flirt but you can’t commit to more than a single date. I don’t think you should be giving me advice on my girlfriend!” Seeing the hurt look on his buddy’s face, he cringed. “Hey, man. I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head and rose to his feet, remaining quiet.

  “You’re right. I didn’t love her the way I should have. She’s better off without me.” The tension remained.

  “Your anger is really somethin’. I don’t know what happened to you, but you haven’t been yourself in a long time. I miss my friend.”

  Bristling, he had a retort ready to spew but instead concentrated on the way the water was rolling over the rocks. He looked over a few seconds later and Cooper had pulled his line. “Damn it!” He thought about Cooper’s comments as well as Vanessa’s concerns. He was nothing but a daredevil, living life as if tomorrow didn’t matter, as if he could beat the odds. This was all he knew, hard lessons learned from a reckless father. Like daddy. Like son.

  He nearly ripped his line out of the water. “Cooper. Let’s talk.”

  Woof!

  Cocking his head, Stoker knew he’d heard the sound of a dog barking. Here? He looked up and down the riverbanks, squinting in order to see as far as he could. They had the only prime fishing spot for a solid mile either way. There was no way a dog’s bark echoed this far. After craning his neck, he shook his head. No, he was hearing things. Polishing off his beer, he turned back toward the table.

  Woof! Woof!

  “Okay. Did you hear that?”

  Cooper eased by his side. “The barking?”

  “Yeah. Where the hell is that coming from?” The light breeze sent a slight whistling sound skimming across the water, creating a soulful moan. Stoker dropped the bottle and yanked off his shoes, carefully stepping onto the rocks. He shielded his eyes as the sun sent a series of shimmering flashes. From where he stood, he could see several people on the shoreline, no doubt families enjoying the holiday. “Maybe nothing.”

  Grrr… Er… Errr…

  Shooting his head to the right, there was no mistaking the sound of a dog in distress. A deep shiver shot down the length of his spine as a distant memory rushed to the forefront of his mind.

  “Buck. Come.” Stoker whistled as he walked along the shore. His arms out, he swayed back and forth. Yeah, mom was gonna be pissed given the storm rolling in, but geez. Summer! He grinned as he stopped by the edge, studying the water. He leaned down as Buck came running, rubbing the dog’s head before taking his time, selecting the perfect rock. “Got it. Watch this, boy.” Rearing back, he switched his hand to the practiced angle and let go. As the smooth stone skipped across the surface of the water, he slipped his fingers into his mouth, letting off a high-pitched whistle.

  Woof!

  “That’s why I’m the champ.” He grinned for a few seconds then twisted his mouth into a frown. “Guess we better get home.”

  Plop! Plop!

  Woof!

  “Them there is just fish, buddy.” Teasing, he tugged on Buck’s collar. His dog could catch more fish than he ever had. “Come on, boy. We gotta get home or mama is going to spank my behind.”

  Buck planted his front paws, his backside wiggling and gave his master a defiant look. Barking, he jumped toward the water.

  “No, we gotta get home. Besides, the water’s too rough, buddy. Let’s go.” Stoker lumbered forward, laughing as Buck zigzagged back and forth, refusing to come any closer.

  “Oh, come on, now.”

  Plop!

  The jumping fish caught Buck’s attention, he raced toward the water, taking a flying leap.

  “Buck! No!”

  Unexpected tears rushed to his eyes as he thought about that horrible day, a wretched summer he’d managed to block out of his mind.

  Until now.

  He took another step, his foot slipping on the slick surface. Teetering from side to side, he threw out his arms for balance. He saw Buck clearly in his mind, struggling to swim back to shore. Pushing back the raw emotions, he scanned the shoreline. Still nothing.

  Errr… Woof!

  “Help! My babies!”

  Then he saw them. Two dogs in distress. Without thinking, he waded into the water, diving past the rocks.

  “Stoker. Wait.”

  While he heard Cooper’s voice, knew the current could drag him for miles, he swam out, fighting the pull as two small heads bobbed up and down in the water. He was a strong swimmer, having learned as a boy, yet with each stroke, every kick of his legs, he seemed to be getting further away. Yet, he pressed on. He had to save them.

  “Stoker!” Cooper called, his voice full of trepidation.

  Panting, he stopped briefly and turned in a circle. He’d forgotten just how close they were to the waterfall, a drop onto craggy rocks below. If the dogs went over the edge, they would be killed. “Coop! A rope. Grab a rope.” Whether or not his buddy heard him, he couldn’t decipher, but there was no time to lose. Kicking out, he dove into the water, using his strong thigh muscles to catapult him forward. He repeated the move, shooting his arms like a piston.

  When he rose to the surface, he gasped and spotted the dogs frantically paddling. One was decidedly stronger. The other rolled and pitched, going under the water every few seconds. Just a young
pup. A fire burned deep within, pushing him harder. He concentrated on nothing but his task at hand, pushing himself harder. Faster. The closer he came to the falls, the more turbulent the water, creating cresting waves beating down on his body. Exhausted, time seemed to stand still as a blanket of water crashed down, yanking him down into the murky depths.

  Stoker remained calm as the swirling gush rolled him several times. This time he burst through the water and he was closer. They were only fifty feet in front of him. More determined than ever, he kicked harder and faster, pushing his muscles to the breaking point and still he continued on. You can do this. You can do this.

  From somewhere behind him, he heard a series of whistles and cries, but he refused to stop, refused to allow Mother Nature to take another life. Another massive wave splashed over him, forcing water into his mouth. Choking, he blinked and threw out his arms. They were close. So damn close. Please God. Let me save them.

  Tears rushed to his eyes as he kicked out, every muscle in his body crying from agony. And still he continued.

  The smaller dog whimpered, the cry of one in need of help as well as desperation.

  “Hold on!” he screamed as he gave another hard kick, forcing his body through the rough water like a bullet. His fingers wrapped around one of the dog’s tails, but the rushing current tossed the fur ball away, just out of reach. No! Dear, God. Help me! He heard the thunderous sounds as water skimmed over the edge of the fall, a dense roar, a continuous intense noise.

  As one of the dogs went under and didn’t resurface, Stoker panicked, diving deep into the water. Bubbles spraying in a swirling circle, blocking his view. He swam, trusting his instincts, trusting in his skills. He could do this. Fur. Yes! Wrapping his arm around the dog’s neck, he fought to reach the surface. When he broke free, the dog scratched and clung to him, his little eyes rolling in the back of his head.

  “You’re okay,” Stoker managed and caught a glimpse of Cooper. The current had pushed them back toward the shoreline. They had one chance. If only he could grab the other dog. Willing the fur ball to hold on, he kicked out once again. Spreading his fingers open, he stretched his arm as the other dog paddled hard, trying. Trying.

  His fingers managed to snag the dog’s collar, but with the weight of both dogs, he was yanked toward the waterfall. “No!” He fought, kicking and swimming, the muscles in his arms and legs screaming for relief. Up and down, they went, water cresting over them, mist peppering against his skin.

  Stoker gasped for air and gripped the dogs tightly, determined to keep them afloat. He could see Cooper and someone else. A rope. They were close. This could happen. He could save them and… As blackness swirled around him, dragging him down, he could see Buck’s face, his beautiful eyes and he knew—

  “No!” Water gurgled from Stoker’s mouth and he choked, coughing as his stomach clenched. He blinked, trying desperately to focus.

  “Whoa. Hold on. You’re okay. We have you.” Cooper pressed against his shoulders as he smiled, yet his eyes held concern. “We almost lost you, buddy.”

  He gulped air and wiped his mouth as he shivered, every inch of his body aching like a son of bitch. “The dogs. The dogs!”

  “They’re okay. Just hold on.”

  Stoker shot into a sitting position, tossing his head from side to side. “Where are they?”

  “They’re right here.” Cooper nodded and eased back. “You should be thankful to be alive. If it hadn’t been for the Deputy, we might have lost you.”

  Stoker tried to control his breathing as he looked up. Deputy Brennan James was well known, even running for Sheriff. “Thank you.”

  “You worried us to death, son. You did a good thing. The dog’s owners are on their way,” Deputy James said as he wiped his brow. “You’re a damn hero.”

  Turning his head, he couldn’t help but smile. Dogs were beautiful, intelligent and resilient creatures. As he struggled to get to his feet, he thought about Buck and he knew his little friend had helped give him the courage to save two innocent lives.

  “Hey, fellas. How ya doin’?” He crouched down then fell forward, overwhelmed by emotion.

  Thump! Thump! Whap! Thump!

  As the two wet and exhausted Golden Retrievers whined and crawled toward him, their entire backsides wagged just enough, a quiet yet pointed thank you for saving their lives.

  Stoker nuzzled in between them as tears slipped from his eyes. The pups licked and nipped, their happy sounds something he’d never forget.

  “Oh, thank God!”

  Hearing the woman’s voice, the dogs reacted immediately, breaking the group hug and racing away.

  Stoker wiped his eyes before standing, smiling as his friend flanked his side. “Thank you for being there.” He stood quietly watching the reunion as a little girl and boy squealed as they hugged their dogs.

  Cooper patted him on the back before placing his hand on Stoker’s shoulder, squeezing. “You did a good thing, brother. I could still kick your ass. Dangerous stunt.”

  The woman came forward, her face tear stained, her eyes swollen. When she noticed Stoker, her tears started to flow. “I have you to thank for saving my babies. I will never be able to repay you. You have no idea what you’ve done.” She held out her arms then didn’t wait for an okay, wrapping her arms around Stoker and holding him tightly.

  Embarrassed, he touched her arm and continued to watch the pups, almost fully recovered from their harrowing experience. “You’re welcome, but my buddies here helped. I couldn’t have saved your babies without them.”

  She stood back, nodding to the two men, but her eyes never left Stoker. “We saw what you did. We know you risked your life. How can I repay you?”

  Stoker held his breath, willing the tears away. “You can tell me their names.”

  The woman seemed surprised at first then gave him a respectful nod. “Rusty and Bear. They’re inseparable.”

  Inhaling, Stoker watched their playful actions. “They’re beautiful names. I’m glad I could help. Take care of them.”

  As the family walked back to their van, smiles dancing across their tension free faces, the three men stood stoically, a moment of quiet reverence.

  When the van finally drove off, only then did Stoker breathe again.

  “What possessed you, brother?” Cooper asked.

  Stoker glanced over his shoulder at the river, the majestic and beautiful river that he’d taken for granted only once and never again. “I have my reasons.”

  “Stop pacing. You’re driving me insane,” Cooper said between clenched teeth.

  Stoker shoved his hands into his pockets and stopped briefly, then began again. He’d been nervous all morning. Nervous? Hell, he’d tossed his cookies twice that morning. The test results were due back at any time and this was all that stood in the way of living his dream. He finally knew what he was meant to do with his life. This was exactly where he was supposed to be.

  “Jesus Christ, dude. I need a drink.”

  “I thought we were supposed to know by now.” Stoker huffed.

  “Noon. The captain said noon and it’s only—”

  “Eleven fifty-two,” Stoker interrupted.

  “But who’s counting. Right?” Cooper eased against the side of the building, wincing from the bright sun. “What if you didn’t pass. Ever think about that?”

  The question stopped him in his tracks. “Then I take the damn test again. And again. Until I pass!” He heard the terse tone of his voice, knew he sounded agitated. Hell, maybe he was. He’d poured his heart and soul into this. He had to have passed. Clenching his fists, he paced back and forth, kicking his toe into the dirt.

  After another few minutes, they both heard the sound of the door opening.

  Stoker jumped face forward, searching the captain’s eyes for any news. The man’s face was expressionless. Shit. Maybe they didn’t pass.

  “The test results are in, gentlemen. If you’ll follow me.”

  Cooper shrugged and nodded to
ward the door. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

  Stoker walked inside first and into the captain’s office, passing by the group of smokejumpers, each holding their heads high. A shiver skated down his spine as the captain closed the door behind them. He switched from foot to foot, the anticipation creating a wave of nausea.

  The captain stood in front of his desk. “Gentlemen. Thank you for applying for the Missoula Montana smoke jumping team.”

  He stole a look at Cooper, and for a black man, he could swear the guy’s face was ashen. Holding his breath, he stood tall out of respect to the organization.

  “Welcome to the Jackals, the finest smoke jumping team in the United States.” The captain smiled as he held out his arm.

  “Yes!” Stoker beamed as he pumped the captain’s hand.

  “Whew. Thank you, Captain,” Cooper added.

  “Prevent. Protect. Preserve. These are words that you’re going to learn inside and out. Take tonight to celebrate because we have a lot of work cut out for us.” The captain’s voice boomed into the small office.

  As Cooper and Stoker walked by the group of jumpers, he could tell their attitudes had changed. They’d become a part of a revered team, men and women who would die for each other to preserve life and property. He felt more honor on this day than he had the entire rest of his life.

  They walked out into the bright sunshine. Somehow the mountains had changed, seemingly more massive and breathtaking. He stood gazing at them, a reminder of the life he would lead from now on.

  “Hey. You have a visitor,” Cooper said quietly.

  Stoker squinted then shielded his eyes. “Vanessa.” He could tell by the look on her face that she’d expected him to pass.

  Smiling, she waved then blew him a kiss.

  And as she climbed into her car, turning over the engine, he knew this was her way of saying goodbye.

  Prevent. Protect. Preserve. That is our motto…

  Landen

  “Hey, buddy. Pour me another one, will ya?”