Her Favorite Fruit

She had her hand on his arm, as he piloted the vehicle through the mountainous backroads. They were going far too fast, this she knew. There was no reason to admonish him, because she knew he was well aware of their speed.

An out of control forest fire was on their backside, chasing them like cops chase teenagers out of abandoned parking lots. They careened wildly down the mountain side, gravel and rocks flying from beneath their wheels. She held her breath, partly because she was terrified, and partly because the smoke was so thick it was permeating the truck, even with the circulating air vents closed.

They had gone camping that weekend, and ignored the closure of national forests. Friends had argued, and friends had supported. There were so many opinions on this fire season it was hard not to pick sides. Notices posted on every gate and signage at the entrances to State Parks read in bold letters “CLOSED DUE TO EXTREME FIRE DANGER” and yet they had forged ahead, heedless of the warnings. Now they both deeply regretted it.

It was for the safety of the general public, their friends had advised them, what if a tourist was lost in the woods, unaware of a raging wildfire. There was no way to alert someone of the danger once they were deep in the backcountry, cell phones had no service out there. Part of the allure, and part of the risk. Not to mention the entirety of personnel dedicated to search and rescue missions, were currently swamped trying to save the tiny mountain towns that were being ravaged by fire.

If they were trapped, they would most certainly be on their own. At this point in time, it certainly seemed as if they were running out of options. Seeking a way to exercise their rights and their American Freedom, they had packed the truck with camping gear and went on their excursion. Fire extinguishers added to the necessary equipment, to appease the nervous onlookers.

Hitting a deep rut in the forestry road, their heads hit the ceiling of the cab, slamming them back down in their seats. What a story to tell, if they survived. What an ‘I told you so’ they would receive as well. With more important things to worry about, she pushed the thought of judgment and accusations from her mind. ‘Stay Alive’, she told herself.

He cussed, loud and vicious, his anger at the fire beast behind them coming out in raspy words of fear. She did not engage, yet again, she knew that staying alive was more important than arguing over which side road cut through to an escape. Maybe they would end up in a creek bed, maybe they wouldn’t make it out at all.

It was growing hotter in the cab of the truck, embers and glowing red ashes landed on the windshield, melting the wipers as he tried to clear the field of vision. Her elbow touching the door suddenly burned, and she yanked her arm away. Their truck was burning as they drove, this was it, she thought. There is no escape. They would burn to death in this vehicle, on this mountainside, in these woods.

The truck veered around fallen trees across the ramshackle road, and a bit of four wheeling took them around and over. He was slapping his hand on the steering wheel as they went, tapping the gas as much as he could, keeping their speed up as fast as possible. Either they crashed from speeding, or they burned up like marshmallows on a campfire. Not good options, and all easily avoided by staying home that weekend. Labour day weekend. She groaned, why did they have to go on this trip? This wasn’t worth dying.

A tree too long and large to go around appeared before them, and he had to leave the safety of the road. Now wildly bouncing across a meadow, he looked at her and said “babe I love you, I’m so sorry we came”

She gripped his hand tightly, and shouted her adoration back at him. Looking at her, he felt his heart swell. She was his everything. Turning back to look where they were headed, he was too late. They slammed into a tree, short and gnarled. She flew through the windshield, and landed in a pile of branches. In the rear view mirror he saw the flames approaching, swallowing everything in their path. The engine had died on impact, and the silence was deafening. The rumble of the fire was like distant thunder.

He became aware of a thudding noise, and clambered his bruised body out of the window of the truck, the door was melted shut. Something was falling from the tree above him and bouncing off the roof of the cab. They had crashed into a pear tree. Her favorite fruit, and he smiled as tears fell. Seeing her body crumpled and still, he knew he had failed her. Crawling over to her, he laid his hands on her motionless body, and cried. The fire didn’t stop, it moved over them and past them, continuing its path of destruction.