The Smoke Jumper (7 page)

‘Listen,’ she said. ‘You and Connor have got this boys’ thing going there.’

‘Boys’ thing? Connor wouldn’t mind you living there. He’s cool.’

‘I’m sure he is. He sounds like a great guy. But I really think it’s better if I have my own place. Hey, don’t go all mopey on me. You said Helena’s only a couple of hours away.’

In the end, however, she relented, though how much they were going to be seeing of each other she didn’t know. The WAY staff rotated in shifts. You did eight days with your group and then another team of staff came out and took over while you took a six-day break. Ed would get either Fridays and Saturdays off or Sundays and Mondays.

She felt his head stir now on her shoulder.

‘Are we there yet?’ he said like a drowsy child.

‘We’re on our way home. You slept the whole summer.’

‘You smell so good.’

‘I’m glad. My whole left side is paralyzed. Your head weighs a ton.’

‘I can’t help it. It’s all those brains.’

He kissed her cheek then put on his glasses and leaned over her to look out the window.

‘We’re somewhere over the Dakotas,’ he said. ‘In a few minutes we’ll be over Montana. Must be why I woke up. I’m not kidding. It always happens. I wake up just as we fly over Montana. I get this, kind of, vibe or something.’

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘I promise you. I once met this woman who was into astrology and reincarnation and all that stuff and I told her about this and she said it was because in a previous life I’d been a native Montanan.’

‘What, a cowboy?’

‘A Blackfeet Indian. Apparently I played the drums.’

‘What was your name?’

‘I forget.’

‘You’re lying. Come on, what?’

Ed sighed. ‘Bear With No Teeth.’

Julia laughed loudly. ‘Bear With No Teeth!’

‘Go on, mock. I don’t care. It’s only my previous life we’re talking about here.’

‘Why with no teeth?’

‘How do I know? Maybe I sucked as a drummer.’

‘What else did she say?’

‘That was it. She got angry when I asked who was on lead guitar and wouldn’t tell me any more.’

They passed the rest of the trip watching the plains below give way to a land of buttes like the backs of great whales and pine-clad ridges and broad river valleys. Ed was her guide, naming the places they passed. The mountain ranges of the Rosebud and the Bighorn and the Pryor and farther to the north the sprawl of Billings and a curve of the Yellowstone River flowing the other way. He made her lean close to the window so that she could see the eastern walls of the Rockies ahead, getting larger and larger, the remnant snow on their highest peaks glowing pink in the late sunshine. And in no time at all those same peaks were dwarfed below them and they were crossing the continental divide and swinging in a slow curve along the western side, with the forest skidding by thick and many shades of green and broken only by lakes that flashed the sky back at them. And then at last the slow descent toward Missoula, with the forest softening into valley and pasture and they could see ranches and houses and horses and cattle and cars and people going about their business. And Ed said that it always felt as if he’d never been away and that the sight of this land opened something within him, a yearning space that was about to be filled.

Julia stroked his hair.

‘My little Bear With No Teeth.’

When they stepped out of the plane the air was laced with the smell of kerosene and sun-baked asphalt. Even so, Ed filled his lungs with it as if it were the sweetest he’d ever breathed. He put his arm around her and they walked toward the arrivals gate.

‘There he is.’

Ed waved and through the glass of the arrivals lounge Julia saw a tall young man with long blond hair waving a cowboy hat at them. The crowd of passengers moved slowly. There was an old man being pushed in a wheelchair ahead of them so it took a long time to get to the gate. Beyond it Connor had put his hat back on and was standing there smiling and calmly waiting. At last they reached him.

‘Excuse me,’ Ed said. ‘Is this the way to the fire?’

‘Too late, man. We already put ’em all out.’

Connor took off his hat again and Ed opened his arms and they gave each other one of those funny man-to-man hugs that always seemed to involve slapping each other’s backs.

‘Hey, old buddy,’ Ed said. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Good. Better for seeing you. Hey, new glasses.’

‘Yeah. Julia says they make me look sexy.’

‘Well, maybe she needs some too.’ He turned to her. ‘So, seeing as ol’ sexy-specs here never introduces anyone to anyone, I guess you must be the famous Julia.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘Likewise.’

‘Welcome to Montana.’

‘Thank you.’

His hand was hard and calloused and he was fixing her with his pale blue eyes in such a direct and steady way that it made her feel almost shy, as if he could somehow see inside her head.

‘And I already found a space for my truck out there, so I figure I’m safe.’

Julia gave Ed a withering look. ‘Will I ever, ever live that down?’

Ed looked at Connor and they both considered this and shook their heads gravely and said together that they thought it unlikely. Connor grinned.

‘Julia, I’m sorry. I’ll never mention it again.’

‘You promise?’

‘I promise. Come on. Let’s go get your wipers, I’m sorry, your bags.’

On the way to the baggage hall and while they waited by the carousel, Ed bombarded Connor with questions. He wanted to know who was jumping this summer, what fires they’d fought so far and where, what the weather had been like, what the forecasters were saying and so on. Connor answered patiently, directing his answers not just to Ed, but to Julia as well.

After all that she had heard about him, it was interesting to meet him at last. Watching the two of them and listening to the way they talked, she could understand why Ed considered Connor his best friend. There was a stillness to him, a reserve that complemented Ed’s exuberance. Once while he was talking, Connor caught her staring at him and he simply smiled and she smiled back.

Their bags arrived and Ed took a quick look inside his guitar case to make sure there was no damage and then they wheeled everything on a cart out to the parking lot. Connor’s truck was an old pale blue Chevy pickup which Julia declared a perfect match for his battered, sweat-stained hat. He told her the hat was entirely for Ed’s benefit and that normally, like all smoke jumpers, he dressed a lot more formally in a business suit and necktie.

‘And, of course, you wear that when you’re parachuting in,’ she said.

‘No, that’s when we wear the fireproof tuxedo. You never know who you might meet.’

They dumped the bags in the back of the truck and climbed into the cab, where they sat three abreast with Julia in the middle. On the way into town Connor asked about her job with WAY and she told him what she knew about it from her time in Colorado. He asked her when she was due to start and she said they were expecting her in Helena first thing Monday morning. Connor thought for a while then said that if they had no other plans, they could maybe all drive over to the ranch Sunday afternoon and visit with his mother.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t tell you, Julia, but my ma’s always had a thing going for Ed here.’

‘It’s entirely mutual,’ Ed said. ‘I admit it. How could I not be in love with a woman who knows by heart every song in
Oklahoma!
?’

‘Pretty darned easily, I’d have thought,’ Connor said. ‘So, Julia, I guess that means you must know ’em all?’

‘What’s Oklahoma?’

Ed groaned and put his head in his hands and Connor and Julia laughed.

They ate that night at a little upstairs diner just across the river and afterward strolled back over the bridge. It was getting dark and the giant white letter M on the hillside above the town glowed as if tethered afloat in the ink of the sky. There was a small park below the bridge where some sort of informal concert was going on. There were lanterns down there and a small crowd of people sitting on the grass and the wafting sound of guitars made Julia feel warm and dreamy and she slipped her arm inside Ed’s and leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked.

When they got back to the apartment, Connor made some coffee and they sat around the kitchen table talking for a while. Ed asked how the photography was going and Connor said he’d had a couple of commissions lately but on the whole things were quiet. He went across the room and came back with a large brown envelope, pulling a picture from it which he said he’d printed only that afternoon. He handed it first to Ed who was sitting across the table from Julia, so only he could see it. His eyes widened.

‘Wow. What on earth is that? Is it an elk?’

‘Yeah. He just stepped out of the fire.’

‘What happened next?’

‘I don’t know. One moment he was there and the next he was gone.’

‘Connor, man, that’s one hell of a picture.’

Ed handed it to Julia. It took her a moment to focus and when she saw what it was she took a sudden sharp breath.

‘It’s terrible.’

Ed laughed. ‘So much for compliments.’

But Connor wasn’t laughing. He was staring hard at her as if he knew exactly what she meant. She shook her head and handed him the picture.

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t look at that.’

Connor took it from her without a word. He slid it into its envelope and took it back where he’d found it. Ed made a joke about Julia being a tough critic of his music too but she was too shocked by what she’d seen to catch it. She stood up. Ed looked suddenly worried.

‘Julia? Are you okay?’

‘I’m sorry, I’m just so tired. I’ll leave you guys to it.’

She kissed Ed on the top of his head. He said he wouldn’t be long.

‘Goodnight, Connor.’

‘’Night, Julia.’

She brushed her teeth in the black bathroom, which Ed called ‘the suicide cell,’ then went to their bedroom and undressed. Connor had given them the bigger room and thoughtfully pushed the two single beds together. There was a wooden rocking chair, a bedside table and a lamp with a frayed purple shade and in the corner stood a big old closet with one handle missing. There were dust-rimmed rectangles on the walls where pictures or posters used to be. Bugs were clattering against the screen of the open window and a few of the more enterprising had found a small tear in one corner and were doing demented loop-the-loops above the lamp.

She got into bed and opened her book. She was reading
Anna Karenina
for the third time and was more moved by it than ever. But now she found herself reading the same paragraph over and over again and soon she gave up and switched off the light. She could hear the rustle of the river outside and the muted voices of the men in the next room and although she knew it was warm, she pulled the covers up over her shoulders against the chill she still felt within her since seeing Connor’s photograph. She couldn’t get the image out of her head. Ed had called it ‘one hell of a picture’ without realizing that was literally what it was. But Connor had understood.

She must have dozed off, for the next thing she knew, Ed was lying naked behind her, kissing the back of her neck. He wanted to make love and when she murmured that she was too tired he acted all hurt, saying it was going to be days, maybe even weeks, before they might see each other again. So she turned and let him stroke her and soon the image that had so troubled her melted and was gone. But in the soft collusion of their limbs there was that night, for the first time, a trace of sadness.

5

T
he eagle rose in languid circles on the thermal, its shadow sliding across the canyon wall that glowed like baked ochre in the afternoon sun. In places the rock face was stained darker with patches of rust where winter water had run and parched tufts of scrub sprouted from its cracks and ledges like hair from an old man’s ears. Slowly now, as the sun lowered itself behind the canyon’s other wall, this tableau of color was being swallowed in a rising tide of shadow. Every so often the eagle called and the sound wafted away down the canyon in an echoing lament.

What, if anything, the bird made of the straggled band of beings many hundred feet below was impossible to tell, but the woe of its cry was never more apt. They came trudging along a trail that wound beside the bed of a dried-up creek. Their heads were bowed, their shoulders slumped, their faces caked with dirt and sweat. The trail was steep and their progress painful and slow and the dust they kicked rose in clouds around their knees. They were like pilgrims who had lost both their way and their faith or forlorn refugees from some distant atrocity, stripped of all but grief and self-pity. Which was what, in varying degrees, all but four of them were.

They were passing through a tangle of dead pines that had been ripped from their roots by the torrent of snowmelt that had raged down the canyon in early spring. And here they halted while one of their number stumbled away from the trail and hid herself behind a clump of willow scrub.

‘Let’s hear the call, Skye!’

There was a pause. The eagle called instead. One of the boys sniggered.

‘Come on, Skye. You’ve gotta call your number!’

Behind the screen of scrub, Skye McReedie, half-breed, cop killer and all-around no-hoper, squatted with her teeth clenched and her pants hitched around her knees, peeing into the dust. She was damned if she’d play their dumbass kids’ games.

‘Skye, if you don’t call it, we’ll have to come looking.’

Skye closed her eyes to contain her anger. It was so humiliating. You couldn’t even take a piss without them being on top of you. That stuck-up little missy-prissy Julia, the so-called ‘senior staff,’ the one yelling at her right now, was the worst of all. She was always so goddamn nice. Skye had been trying hard to get a rise out of her, to make her lose her cool for a moment, but so far no luck. You’d think, being a woman, the bitch would understand how tough it was for her. There were ten kids on this fucking chain gang and Skye was the only girl.