Stirring Ashes

Stirring Ashes, Part One

"Officer, I'm just trying to get to my dad's cabin. I know he's still up there."

The state trooper wasn't moved. "Sheriff and Rangers already went through this area. Everybody's been evacuated. If your dad was there, he isn't now."

Marian shook her head. "He wouldn't have gone. He--"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but nobody's getting past this point," the trooper cut in. "Look, if you'd like, I'll contact the Fire Chief and ask him to double check any buildings they find."

"Could I just--"

"Ma'am, it's not going to happen." He put his sunglasses back on. "A lot of times, people get so busy trying to save what they can, they forget to let family know where they went. Head on home, sit tight, and I'm sure he'll be in touch. You have a nice day."

Jaw clenched and hands shaking, Marian rolled her window up, turned the car around, and drove back down the highway.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fucking piece of..!" She punctuated each curse with a strike on the wheel.

The chilled air blasting from the vents diluted the scent of smoke from outside, steadying her nerves. She drew a shaky breath and made up her mind, and once a grassy hill put her out of sight of the roadblock, she took the first exit she saw. The unmarked road featured more holes than paved surface, and after only a few hundred yards it turned into a dirt track meant for heavy-duty vehicles. It cut through the golden grass until it disappeared into a grove of trees.

Within, the track split, one way leading out of the trees and away from her destination, the other further into the woods. She didn't hesitate, and deftly guided her compact deeper into the mottled shade of the leaves overhead. The trail had seen little upkeep, and she dodged branches, potholes and the occasional squirrel as she crept forward. When she emerged from the trees, the track ahead led up the side of a hill to join a deserted highway. The green slopes of the mountains beyond faded into a grey haze.

It took another five heart-pounding minutes before she reached the road. Once on solid pavement, she ignored speed laws and tried to make up for the time lost crawling through the brush. Even so, the sky had turned purple by the time she took another dubious, barely-visible exit, this time knowing precisely where it would lead her. With protesting engine, her car negotiated the trail's sharp turns and steep inclines. Branches slapped the windshield with increasing frequency until the trees gave way to reveal a clearing and a small wooden cabin.

She parked the car and stepped out, looking around at the weeds and debris encroaching on the glade. Dried leaves crunched underfoot, the only sound in the clearing as she took a few steps and basked in the cool shade of the tall redwood trees.

She halted next to a massive tree stump, caressing its worn surface with her fingers, and remembered the deer they had once seen from the window. She almost heard her dad's whispered warning not to move, his arm slowly lifting her up higher as he looked back and forth, out the window, then back to her, his face aglow. She recalled the click and whirr of her mother's camera as she took the photo that had ended up framed in Marian's bedroom. Inevitably, the memory shifted to their disappointment after she sneaked away and opened the door a crack to go say hi, sending the deer fleeing.

She wiped her cheeks with her sleeve and tucked an errant strand of blond hair behind her ear. The air had smelled different then, a harsh reminder of the reason for her return. She turned and headed for the cabin. It stood in disrepair, peeled paint revealing the beginnings of rot. A bough had fallen, smashing through a window, and still rested there. A moment's dread flashed through her mind--what if the officer had been right after all? She let the question linger and stepped up to knock on the door.

The first three knocks seemed to confirm her fear. As she took a step back and opened her mouth to call out, the door opened abruptly. For the first time in three years, she stood face to face with her father.

The state of the cabin was reflected in that of its owner. The grey t-shirt and ancient jeans hanging from his gaunt frame sported several holes. He wore no shoes or socks. Beneath a mess of white-streaked hair, his green eyes widened. He said nothing.

She stared at the figure in the doorway, heartache and anger clashing in her stomach as she struggled to reconcile her last memory of him with the old man before her. "Hey," she finally managed with a weak smile. "It's me."

He turned his head slightly, as if unwilling to believe what he saw. "Marian." A hint of wonder stole across his face and finally, he mirrored her smile. "Marian."

She looked him over again. "How have you been?"

He glanced away and shifted his weight. "What are you doing here?"

"That was actually going to be my question," she said. "I mean, even if you don't get the news, that smell is pretty hard to ignore."

As he looked past her and sniffed the air, she realized he had done precisely that. His gaze lingered and he asked, "That yours?"

She looked over her shoulder at the previously-white Honda. "No, it's a rental. I don't have a car yet."

"Oh." The silence stretched until finally, he stepped aside. "You want to come in?"

The cabin had no rooms, only a loft for the bed. Other than stacks of water gallons and canned food, little had changed inside since she'd seen it last. In spite of herself, a warm, comforting memory spread through her stomach. "I used to love this place," she said softly.

"A lot of good times here," he said in a hollow voice.

His tone brought her back to the present. "The woods are burning, Dad. The fire is spreading this way. You have to leave. This cabin isn't going to survive," she added, looking for the conviction her voice lacked. "On the way here, the radio said they haven't contained any of it."

His shoulders sagged a bit. "It'll be all right. Brushfires never make it up this mountain. They can't make it past the creek, even when the wind is right."

Here was the moment she'd been dreading since she'd left home for the trip. Frustration tightened her chest. "Please don't be like that. I had to dodge a roadblock just to make it here. This entire area has already been evacuated. They're taking it seriously."

He shook his head. "It'll be all right," he repeated.

"What if it's not?" she insisted, her blood pressure rising.

"You should go. If you're worried."

Her molars ground together. "I came out here to get you. Because I knew you'd be too stubborn to leave."

"I guess you were right," he replied, and she heard a ghost of his old self in his tone.

It only made her angrier. "Why are you doing this?"

He frowned. "I don't want to be anywhere else. There's no reason for me to leave."

"If you're not leaving, then I'm not either. I hope you have an airbed or something, because I brought absolutely nothing." She lifted her chin, daring him to deny her.

He stared at her, and she saw him struggle to speak without contradicting himself. "You can't stay here," he finally said in his 'come on, now' tone. "It's a mess, and I can't even feed you."

She glanced at the window. "It's already dark out. You really want me to go down the trail at night? I almost went off the side coming up. It's much safer for me to stay here. According to you, anyway. The fire can't get us here, right?"

His jaw bunched, breath hissing through his nose. "Okay. Sleep here tonight. But tomorrow, you're on your way. All right?"

"I'll go grab my purse."

Concluded in Part Two, coming Wednesday, July 18