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And how strange it was that the former occupant had given it up, rather than returning.
TWO
Unexpected Jock
“So, this is it?” asked Luca, his bare feet propped on the desk. The epic view was made even sharper by the comically long binoculars he was holding. “Just stare out the windows and wait for a fire?”
“Probably don’t wait for a fire,” crackled Sandy. “That sounds like you’re hoping one will come.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Well, some of the less remote towers double as wardens to nearby camps. Checking permits and giving safety briefings. You’re the only official for miles, remember. A few others are on hiking paths and get scout troops or summer camps coming through. Got a red book nearby?”
He rummaged, finding it in the desk drawer. The crimson leather was soft and smelled like his abuela’s bookshelf. “Yeah?”
“We tell wilderness hikers to check in with the towers, so we have a record if they go missing.”
“Well, that’s bleak,” Luca said, flicking through the paper. To his surprise, it was only three pages deep with entries, despite the first being back in the sixties. “Wait, is there really only one or two hikers a year out here?”
“Yup. Bleeding Heart is the most isolated tower in the whole state. You’re our last hope against a Canadian invasion.”
“A big responsibility,” he said. “But I’m guessing permit checking won’t take a lot of my time?”
“Nope. Just binoculars all day. Well, the terms of your contract are actually all day and all night.”
“How the hell am I supposed to see fires at night?”
“Interesting. Most rookies are more concerned with the lack of sleep than the visibility. But it’s way easier to spot a fire at night. That far out, even a small blaze’ll glow like a star.”
“Okay, second question. When the hell am I supposed to sleep?”
“Ah, there it is. Don’t worry. It won’t be every night. Just when storms are rolling through.”
Luca squinted out the window. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Because rain is the perfect condition for a fire to break out.”
“Hold onto your ass, wise guy, but two-thirds of forest fires in this state are started by lightning, not people.”
Luca gasped unironically and tugged the obligatory Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires! poster from its hangnail beside the axe. “But Smokey said it was all down to campers!”
“Sorry, kid. Sometimes cartoon bears lie.”
Luca sighed. Just like the real ones. “And so...”
“And so nothing,” said Sandy, snorting like a trucker after too many warm beers. “This is the whole gig. Be on hand for your morning status check. Report any fires you see. Figure out when you can sneak off without anyone noticing—trust me, if you stay at your post all day you’ll go nuts. Write a novel or album or knit a quilt or just stare soulfully into the middle distance. Apart from that, your peepers and that horizon will spend the next three months becoming best buddies.”
“Sooo,” said Luca, at the six-hour mark. “What’s your deal, Sandy? What’s a gal like you doing in a place like this?”
“Nice try, camper,” came the response, the words muffled by what Luca assumed to be a pencil gripped between teeth. “But just because you’ve taken a vow of celibacy doesn’t mean I need to entertain you.”
“Come on! It’s not my fault. The whole article was an accident. Besides, I’m genuinely curious about you!”
“Mmm hmm. I’ve read your CV. And looked up a few of your old articles. I know exactly what you’re curious about.”
Luca suppressed a grumble at her reaction—the same one he’d experienced hundreds of times before. “Seriously! If we’re going to be working together for months, shouldn’t we get to know each other?”
“Tell you what, why don’t I ask my long-term lesbian lover about it? I’ll need her permission before I tell you about all the crazy shit we get up to in the?—”
The line went silent.
