by Nancy Hartry
Kerry wrapped her arms around herself and hugged herself. “Seriously, you think he’s a thug? Okay, maybe I could lighten up a bit.”
“A bit? A lot. He really scares me. Nobody knows anything about him. And you’re right—if he can do that to a cat, what would he do to me if he thought I’d set these fires?”
“Okay, I’ll try to play nicely.” Kerry hurled the rest of the stones into the lake. “But maybe I’ll get a fire-boss doll and stick pins in it.”
The next day, Kerry threw herself into the chores as a way to put Sirois out of her mind. As she scrubbed the picnic table, with soapsuds and bleach flying everywhere—reflecting that she was becoming just like her mother—she drove a honking splinter under her fingernail. She yelped and shook her hand to stop the throbbing and ran to Yvette for help.
“Don’t suck it! My mom says a human mouth is dirtier than a dog’s mouth,” she warned Yvette.
“Remember that next time Aubrey wants to play tonsil hockey with you.”
“Nice talk.” She tried to pull her hand away but Yvette held tight. Blood was pulsing at the tip of her finger. The piece of wood looked gray and deep and felt like it extended under the nail all the way to the cuticle.
“You need to go to Rolf. It’s in really deep; it could get infected.”
When Kerry banged on Rolf’s door, it opened immediately. He pushed her into a plastic chair and positioned a desk lamp so he could check the damage. “I can’t see anything,” he complained.
“Put on your glasses!”
He sterilized tweezers and a probe like a darning needle. Then he picked Kerry’s hand up and gently patted it dry, and she jerked her hand away.
“Ahh, it’s an ouchy!” Rolf barely touched the skin where the splinter had gone in, but the tweezers felt like pliers jabbing into her finger. Was he ripping off the whole nail? Kerry clenched her teeth, studied the grain in the linoleum floor, and crossed and recrossed her legs, resting her forehead in her other hand.
“Got it!” Rolf set the bloody splinter on a towel. “When was your last tetanus shot?”
“Last year, I think.”
“I’ll believe you. Now, the disinfectant is going to sting but you’re a big girl. The worst is over. Hmm—let’s talk about something different to take your mind off what I’m doing. How are you and your friend Yvette getting along?”
Kerry talked more than she meant to, in the stress of the moment. She learned that Rolf didn’t know about Yvette’s dad being killed in a plane crash, or that the insurance company hadn’t paid up yet and Yvette really needed all the overtime she could get or things would be very tight next year at school.
“Looks like she’ll get her wish, unless they catch the firebug,” said Rolf. “But how many people carry a pink lighter, eh? Now, keep that hand out of water and we’ll see how it goes.”
It had been on the tip of Kerry’s tongue to pour her heart out about how much she hated it here, but his comment about the lighter stopped her. Did he suspect Yvette? Had this conversation been a fishing trip for Rolf to get information out of her about her partner? Nah, I’m becoming paranoid. Rolf’s a sweetie.
Next morning, Kerry was no good in the kitchen. She couldn’t wash or dry the dishes with one arm, and when she tried chopping carrots they shot like bullets across the room. She caught Rolf watching her more than once and gave him the “gauze up” sign with her whole hand. She knew she was useless but it never occurred to her that he wouldn’t cover for her.
He waited until Yvette went to fetch apples from the pantry. “I can’t have you in my kitchen, Kerry, you’re a liability. You’ll hurt yourself or someone else.”
Kerry was determined not to cry but she had to bite the inside of her cheek. She’d injured her hand working her guts out for Rolf, and she was shocked and hurt that he was going to fire her. She turned her back and made light conversation with the men who were lined up, faces dirty with sweat and grit, hands so embedded with ash that they looked barely washed despite scrubbing with soap and water. The reason she worked so hard was that this kitchen was the only bright spot in their day.
Rolf tapped her on the shoulder. “I wasn’t finished. I’ve got another deal for you, and I had to fight for it. I know you aren’t the kind to sit around and do nothing. When you’re healed you can come back, I promise, and I’ll be some glad to have you.”
Kerry gazed at him, willing her eyes not to tear up.
“Fire Support needs someone to file maps, answer the phone, and let the guy in charge have a minute to input data. I told them you have lots of experience. I kind of BS’d a bit, and now they think you’re God’s gift to the fire service.”
She laughed. “I used to help out at my mom’s office. I know my way around a reception desk.”
“I’ll let you in. They’re out for the rest of the day, flying and mapping.”
The office must have been a bunkhouse in times past, with warped pine floors, and wavy windows at either end. It had a picture window overlooking Leech Lake and was large enough to hold three plywood tables on trestles, cartons filled with rolled-up maps, and one computer workstation.
“There’s lots of natural light,” said Rolf. “When we’re not smoked out, that is. And the roof’s good. If it rains, the maps and computers won’t get wrecked.”
“Well, they’re definitely organized,” Kerry noted. Binders were labeled and neatly cataloged. The floor had been swept clean.
“The work gets away from them. They’ll appreciate the help.”
There was a stereoscope, a sort of 3-D viewer, set up on one of the tables. Rolf stood quietly while she had a peek through the lenses at the photographs the men were working on. “Looks like a hunting camp.”
“Zoning in on the fire starter, maybe. Listen, is your hand terribly sore?”
“Only if I think about it.”
“I’ll shut up and leave you to it.”
Filing took Kerry six times as long as it should have, until she perfected the trick of keeping the file open with her elbow. She date-sorted some memos sitting on a desk and couldn’t help but see one with the word “Confidential” stamped diagonally across the front page. She turned the stack of papers upside down on the desk but she couldn’t resist peeking. The subject was “No-Fly Zone.”
She read the whole thing from top to bottom, including the attached map with hash marks showing the no-fly zone. There was an entire paragraph on what would happen if anyone entered the area by land, water, or air—dismissal with cause, no ifs, ands, or buts. The letter was signed by the fire boss and copied to Harcourt, to Matthew as the pilots’ representative, to Didier, and to the minister of the Department of Forestry and Parks and a bunch of names she didn’t recognize. It was as if the whole area had been cordoned off with police tape. But why?
Kerry found a clean copy of the map and marked the no-fly zone on it, then buttoned it into the pocket of her flannel shirt. She was careful to scatter the original paperwork back the way she had found it, with the memo buried in the middle of the pile. When Rolf showed up to lock the door, she was sitting at the desk with her feet up, flipping through a book on native trees of Ontario.
“It’s dumb to lock it anyway,” Rolf said as they left. “If somebody really wanted in, they could get in, no problem.”
“Then why bother with the lock? Nothing else around this place is secured.”
“By order of the fire boss, Kerry. Very specific instructions to me. Don’t ask because I haven’t got a clue.”
Kerry opened the driver’s door of Slash’s crew cab and stepped up into the seat. It was the day after she’d started working in the mapping office, and Rolf had found her a supplementary job—driving Slash around the base camp while he delivered bottled water to the firefighters. She idled while he maneuvered a dolly from tent to tent, dropping off three cases of water at each location. She pulled the door closed with her good hand and it thudded shut, entombing her in forest green leatherette. An open bottle of Coke was sweat
ing in the cup holder. She opened the glove compartment, looking for tissues or a paper towel, and a passport-sized document dropped out. She had no intention of snooping, but it fell open. She glanced out the window but Slash was nowhere in sight, so she skimmed the tiny print under a recent picture of him. He’s a commercial pilot? What’s he doing wasting his time in the kitchen? Something else was tucked into the document. A motorcycle license? Now, that I can believe. But who is this guy, anyway?
CHAPTER 14
A fter lunch the next day, Slash shouldered a sack of potatoes onto the ground near the picnic table. “Where’s your friend, Kerry?”
“Beats me. Looks like I’m doing potatoes all afternoon by myself.” Rolf must have been desperate to let her come back to work in the kitchen. Apparently Matt had been hanging around like a bad smell ever since Kerry had hurt her hand, and Rolf didn’t like it.
She dunked a potato in water and concentrated on peeling one long, continuous strand.
“Hi.”
“Omigod, Aubrey, you made me jump. How long have you been watching me?”
“I like watching you. I just got here.” He took a paring knife off the table, tested it with his thumb, and got to work.
“You don’t have to help me.” Kerry knew she was blushing.
“But I want to. One of the helicopters is out of commission and I’m waiting for a ride. Might as well make myself useful. We got five new fires overnight.”
Kerry felt her stomach tense. She didn’t dare ask how close the fires were. She waved him off as if to say, I don’t want to know.
By the time Kerry was on her third potato, the silence was growing awkward. “How’s the bear situation?”
“Not good. They found five orphaned cubs roaming the rez. The elders set up a shift system to feed them, which makes the conservation officer happy, because those cubs are hungry all the time.”
“What will happen to them?”
“They’ll probably be flown to a zoo in Toronto or somewhere. Not much of a life, but they’ll soon be too acclimated to humans to survive on their own.”
“I bet they’re cute.”
“More than cute. I feel so useless, not being able to figure out what’s happening to the adult bear. Some bear whisperer I am.” There was a foamy scum on the potato water. He scooped it up with cupped hands and blew it into the wind.
“I always see you with your nose in a book,” said Kerry. “Are you looking for answers there?”
“No, not that. I’m doing a distance learning program from the University of Saskatchewan in zoology and literature. Poets like Neruda, in Spanish—he was Chilean. Classics like Sappho. I find it interesting that three thousand years of history and culture have come down to us on paper, from long before electric lights were even thought of. A band member friend of mine and I decided to interview and tape as many of the elders on the reserve as we can. They considered me to be an outsider at first, but they’re used to me now.”
“And you speak Spanish too? I’m impressed.”
“I probably should be doing something more relevant but it makes a nice change. No big deal. Hey, do you like fishing?”
“I went fishing once at a trout pond. It was fun,” Kerry said.
“That’s not fishing! It’s a long way to my favorite spot in the bush. When this is over, I’ll take you, if you like.”
“How far?”
“Three days.” He held her eyes.
Kerry thought she felt the ground trembling. Something was changing, that was for sure. She fumbled with the button on her pocket and pulled out the map in her pocket. “Show me on the map.”
He studied the map. “This looks classified. Where’d you get it?”
She didn’t answer. “Is your fishing spot on here?”
“Yep. Right here in this red zone, about five hundred yards from the dump. There’s an old cabin I use. Shhh, don’t tell anyone. It doesn’t have a land-use permit.”
She shrugged. “Who am I going to tell?”
“Kerry, I want you to promise me something. No matter what happens down the road, believe in me. Give me the benefit of the doubt. Promise you will and cross your heart.”
She laughed and crossed her heart. “I don’t get it, but sure.”
“I’d better go now. But the truth is, I wasn’t just stopping by. I’ve been avoiding getting to the point. Something happened, but Yvette’s all right.”
“Something happened to Yvette?”
“Yes—well, no, she’s fine. She’ll be back here tonight. She was flying with Matthew and there was nearly a collision in the air. Management is trying to keep it quiet, but I heard it on the radio. They don’t know where the other plane came from.”
“Could it have been one of those TV planes? Covering the fire?”
“I doubt it. The plane wasn’t marked. Anyway, I wanted you to hear about it from me.”
“Poor Yvette! I feel bad. We haven’t been talking much lately.”
“She’s pretty shaken up. As a pilot, Matthew has some influence. He can probably look out for her. My concern is for you. There are crazy things going on; things I don’t understand. Please, be careful who you trust.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. “I’ll talk to Rolf. You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”
Kerry followed him into the kitchen. Maybe she should take Slash up on his offer to be her bodyguard.
CHAPTER 15
L ater that day, Rolf kept Kerry busy doing food prep and serving. The men asked her where Yvette was, speculating that she hadn’t been able to cut it. Kerry knew they were just teasing—they would be very upset when they found out what had happened—but it wasn’t her place to tell them.
“Puts things in perspective, it does,” said Rolf. About eleven, after the dishes were done, Rolf walked Kerry back to her trailer, and together they waited for Yvette. With his awkwardness, Rolf seemed to take up all the space in the bedroom. Kerry ordered him to sit on her bed while she fussed around on Yvette’s side, turning down the covers, getting out a clean set of pajamas and a washcloth.
“Do you think she’ll want a shower?”
“She’ll be dopey. I expect they’ve given her sedatives or something at the hospital.”
“The hospital?”
“She came unhinged. Hey, I’d come unhinged if somebody tried to mow me down in a plane.”
“Omigod. I feel like such a biatch.”
He passed her a water bottle. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. What gives between you and Yvette?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing, my ass. And don’t tell me it’s none of my business. I got two girls here, and if my team isn’t pulling in the same direction I’m screwed. I can’t have the two of you fighting.”
“We’re not fighting. We’re just not speaking. Much.”
“What’s it all about? You can tell your Uncle Rolf.”
Kerry sighed. “Yvette has to be right all the time. She has to control everything. She’s so bossy and it’s driving me nuts.”
“And what are you doing to bug her?”
“Nothing.” He snorted. “Okay, she’s pissed because I’m more open-minded about certain stuff. Also, I’m a very private person, or used to be, until I landed in this fish-bowl. I don’t think I should have to answer to her about everything. She’s not my mother. And she’s not my boss.”
Rolf took a long pull on his water bottle. “So it has to do with some guy.”
“How’d you know?”
“Eyes and spies, I have them both.” He patted a spot for her to sit down beside him. “What I have to say is for your own good. Maybe this isn’t the right time, on top of everything else, but here goes. Every day, at least five times a day, men ask me how much you and Yvette cost. What’s your fee.”
“For what? You don’t mean …”
He sighed. “They want to know how much I charge for … a roll in the hay with you. They want to know my cut.”
Kerry couldn’t keep from laugh
ing.
“There’s nothing funny about it. These firefighters aren’t Boy Scouts, eh? These guys look like professional firefighters in their orange jumpsuits, but many of them aren’t the real thing. They’re from all over hell’s half-acre. They could be on probation. They could be hitchhikers conscripted from the side of the road. They could be sex fiends, for all we know. They—” He held his hand up. “Is that a truck?”
Kerry levitated off the bed and yanked the door open. Yvette was holding onto the wooden railing, steadying herself for the climb. Kerry flew down to meet her, hugging Yvette’s slight body to her. “Oh God, Yvette, I’m so glad you’re all right.”
Matthew stood quietly behind her. “I wanted to carry her in but she’s bloody stubborn. She’s loopy from the drugs, ranting in French. She’s your problem now, Kerry. Come here, you,” he added, to Yvette. He clasped his hands behind her back and hugged her. He stopped short of kissing her, but Kerry could tell he wanted to. Their relationship had moved to another level, she realized. Yvette had been right that she could make him fall for her.
“The doctor wanted to call her mom, but she’s of age and she went nuts when they suggested it. Rolf, the doctor said she needs time off.”
“Sure. We’ll play everything by ear.”
“Good night, girls.” With one last worried glance at Yvette, the two men closed the door, leaving them alone.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I just wanna go to sleep.” Yvette fumbled with the buttons on her shirt. Kerry helped her undress, with Yvette being as docile as a toddler who’d fallen asleep on a car ride home.
Kerry lay in bed for what seemed like hours, listening to Yvette breathing and trying not to think of the alternative—Yvette not breathing. She was in that twilight before sleep when she heard a noise and saw an arm, attached to a shoulder and then a long-haired head, slip around the edge of the door. Kerry was instantly awake and her heart pounded so loudly that whoever it was had to hear it. She pulled her knees up to her chest under the covers, trying to keep her breathing steady.