The Reward is worth the Journey

I was a wildland firefighter for the Forest Service during the summer months. I had already done this for two summers, paying my way through college. If our group was called out consistently it would pay for my next year's college. This particular summer, the third and last of these summers, we seemed to be out all the time thanks to the number and intensity of the fires.

For our current fire I was alone as a safety spotter, making sure to communicate any change in the fire's direction and intensity to the rest of the crew as they circled in front of the fire to attack it from the opposite side and were out of direct sight of the fire. It all seemed mundane, we thought this fire was ordinary, a one-day wonder as we called fires like this. We'd be back at base for breakfast the next day.

Something about this fire was different, though. I hadn't seen this combination of fire, wind and geography before. The steep walls of the canyon changed the dynamic. There were gusts of wind that seemed to change direction every minute, bouncing off the walls of the canyon. I radioed in to the fire boss who told me to stay with it and let them know what was going on. The fire was creeping through low grass and small shrubs on the opposite side of the canyon, which was divided by a rippling stream.

I was traversing a ridge to stay ahead and above the fire when the wind changed in intensity and direction and the fire jumped the stream and turned toward me. The wind had begun to circle in a clockwise motion as it bounced off the canyon walls, then it formed a fire whirl of superheated air. It now started uphill in thigh high dry grass, one of the fastest-burning fuels there is. I turned and ran. There was a roaring behind me, a deep bass sound that was getting closer.

My studded boots were no good on rock and I slipped and fell on the slick, bare rock and lay there, stunned, watching the fire come at me in a clockwise whirl, spot fires raining ahead of the main fire from hurled, blazing pine cones and branches. When a swirl passed over me I realized it was super hot gasses that would cook my lungs. I was in the middle and it was rapidly closing around me. As I watched there were colors of all kinds as the vortex changed from moment to moment. It was the most beautiful and most powerful thing I've ever seen. I took a deep breath, turned on my side and closed my eyes, certain I was going to die.

I lost consciousness from lack of oxygen as the fire whirl sucked up all the available oxygen. When it passed, I awoke some moments later and marveled I was still alive. My radio was partially melted, my firefighting outfit singed and burned. Luckily I had turned and shielded my face with my coat sleeve, saving me from severe burns. When I slipped I was in an area that was all rock and I was nestled in a long crevice within it.

The fire had passed around me as it found fuel on either side without touching me as I lay on the barren rock, though the intense heat burned my hands and neck in second and third degree burns. The fire raced up the hill and over the ridge trapping my crew mates. I had survived a blowout. Many of the rest of my crew were not so lucky. Eight of my friends died in a five minute span of time as the fire outran them and eventually grew to three thousand acres in a day.

I hiked out by following the stream that flowed through the middle of the canyon, the land was black and gray; black from the remaining smoldering shrubs and smoking trees now nothing but burnt snags and gray from the ash covering the land. Every footstep raised a cloud of ash. i would pause from time to time to plunge my hands into the icy water to relieve the pain.

I reached a road and, walking down it with a towering cloud of smoke behind me, met a Forest Service crew en route to what was now a major fire. I was brought to the first aid tent where my burns were treated and bandaged. I spent days there for observation and wound care before I spent time in a hospital burn unit. When I was discharged and finally reached headquarters I was congratulated. I had survived an event few would ever see, much less live through. I quit the Forest Service that afternoon, never to return.

My burns to my hands, neck and edges of my face healed in time but I was scarred for life. A long succession of surgeries both surgical and skin grafting procedures gave me use of both hands. I withdrew into a deep depression. I was confused by my survival and as well I had survivor's guilt. Why me and not them? I attended eight funerals and spoke at some of them, still swathed in bandages. Words seemed so empty when compared to the loss of a life.

Six long years passed after that summer. I eventually graduated, stayed to get a masters degree and juggled surgeries, recovery, school and, eventually, work. I didn't make friends very easily. My scars marked me as different and many would move away and never return, especially women. I moved from job to job, looking for something, someone that kept my attention and interest.

This particular night I was alone, drinking margaritas at my favorite Mexican place as I waited for my dinner, still wondering why me and not them. I was at a table for four and a woman came up to me and asked to sit at the table.

"It's so crowded tonight. Is it always like this? Maybe that's why this place is so recommended. Thanks for letting me sit here. My name's Bethany." She put out her hand to shake. My first reaction was to not shake her hand, to not show her my scarred hand which had driven away so many. I looked into her ice blue eyes and took a chance. I grasped her hand and she gave me a firm handshake.

"I'm Walker, Walker Wyatt," I told her.

She had seen and felt my hands. I waited for her reaction. Would it be revulsion? Or pity? Or whatever else that caused so many to leave a similar seat and walk away? She held my gaze and simply said, "Pleased to me you. Come here much?"

"It's my favorite Mexican. It's owned by a Mexican family. They employ about twenty or so, most of whom are illegals who start by washing dishes or bussing tables as they learn English. When they are conversant they move on to the wait staff. I've never had a bad meal. I've met the owners and they are wonderful people. I eat out too much so I've had a lot of middling food. I treasure the good ones."

"I'll come to you for restaurant suggestions!"

I had previously ordered so I flagged down my waiter and asked for a menu for her. She ordered and I told her, "good choices. I think you'll have an excellent meal."

We talked back and forth as first my food came, then hers. We ate until we were stuffed and also more than a little buzzed from drinking margaritas. She looked up and said, "let's go to my place." This was new territory for me. Pre-accident I had been a babe magnet but after the incident my then-girl couldn't deal with the wounds and left. I hadn't been with a woman since then. Years of surgeries and physical therapy didnt leave much time for anything else.

"OK," I said in response. We exited to my car and she gave me directions to her place. I found she lived in a high-end area of town. I found a parking spot in the parking garage and we moved to the elevator. We stepped off the elevator directly into her apartment, if you could call a room with twelve foot ceilings and floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city an apartment. It was chic and cozy at the same time. The vibe I got was calm. I had stopped two steps into her entranceway to gawk.

She turned to me and said, "I get that from a lot of people. Come on in." She patted a sofa halfway across the room, "come and sit." She kicked off her shoes, sat beside me and turned to face me. "I like being comfortable." Her gaze never left my eyes as she said, "tell me."

I knew what she was asking. I gave her my practiced summation. It's halfway through this that people's eyes usually changed, from questioning to pity, revulsion, or some combination of both. Her eyes never changed. It was unsettling, so unexpected. She took my hand in hers and squeezed. "It's ok, keep going."

I summoned the will to say more than my usual summation and told her about the day my life changed forever. I talked, I cried, I bowed my head in misery as I remembered the wonder of nature at its most powerful self, the fear I felt, the exhilaration of living followed by the crushing news of the deaths of eight of my friends and the guilt of feeling responsible for their deaths.

She just kept asking questions, slowing me down and asking for more details. I lost track of time. Finally I was talked out. She led me numbly into the bedroom and undressed me for bed. She shed her clothes and lay beside me, holding me. I clung to her having relived those moments more intensely than I had in years. In time, just as the dawning of a new day began, there was peace. I slept.

It was late afternoon before the smell of bacon cooking caused me to get up. I walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to her kitchen. I was still naked and Bethany was as well except for a small apron barely covering her breasts and stomach. She turned to the refrigerator and I saw the back was two crisscrossed strings above her delicious ass. It was beyond sexy.

"I'd say good morning but it's definitely well after that," I said to her.

"I'll say it anyway. Good morning!" was her reply with a smile that just wiped me out. "Just in front of you, open the second drawer and pull out bread for Texas Toast. Put two slices buttered on each side on the griddle on the stove. I pulled out two thick slices of bread, buttered one side and lay them on the griddle where they began sizzling immediately. I carefully buttered the other side, flipped the toast after checking carefully if it was ready and brought them to two small plates. Juice had been poured, eggs and bacon were on two plates and silverware had magically appeared. "Dig in!"

I savored every bite. I was more comfortable than I'd been in years, since the long-ago time before I moved to the fire base for my last season. "Thank you. This is delicious."

"You worked up quite an appetite last night and this morning. I hope you don't feel I pushed you too hard. You tell your story with such intensity, describing the colors you saw in the vortex, the sheer power of the blowout, your feelings about your fellow crew members, the destructive power of being different, of standing out. I was blown away."

We finished our meals and she popped up off her stool and put the dishes in the sink. She took off her apron, held out her hand again and led me back to the bedroom where we cuddled together. I was emotionally exhausted. Last night had been intense both in the telling and the fear of rejection.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"Wondering why you haven't shown me the door," I replied.

"It was the most dramatic story I've ever heard. It takes a lot to bring it back to the forefront of your mind and say it all, one painful step at a time. You locked all that way down in your mind. Thanks for taking a chance and telling me."

I turned to her and smiled. "Thank you, in return. You made it much easier to tell my story." I was on my back with Bethany on her side cuddled next to me. She picked up my hand and kissed it.

"You've been through hell. I applaud your courage. Tell me about what you do."

"I'm on my third job since the incident. I'm gung-ho to start, then I figure out the job and find it less than challenging as I watch my co-workers just skate by. I get frustrated by what I see and feel, eventually I move on to the next one. My first job was in private equity and I soon realized they were destroying firms for a quick return on investment for the investors. My second and third jobs were in banking. It's good money but it isn't fulfilling."

"So nothing moves you. You've got a masters degree but you haven't found a challenging position that holds your interest."

"Exactly."

"What do your friends and mentors say?"

"I don't have any. I'm an island to myself. I've been rejected too many times to really put myself out there."

"So why does this work, our time together, short though it is?"

"It's your eyes. You don't flinch. You're honest, probably to a fault, never go for the quick comeback, always thoughtful and you've got a quality about you that invites risk-taking. You're calm, like your surroundings, which are chic but cozy."

"Well, you certainly have me figured out! I had no idea a simple request to share a table would lead to a night like we just shared."

"Nor did I,"I told her. "Let's get out of here for a while. As much as I enjoy looking at you while you are naked, I'm self conscious about my scars."

"We're two blocks from the river and there's a nice walk beside it. Want to do that?"

"It sounds wonderful." I realized we had been naked together and held each other but had never kissed or otherwise done anything sexual. We had a wonderful walk, the air comfortable after the heat of the summer had passed. We walked back to her apartment, which I found out was the entire top floor of her building. We settled in on the same couch as last night.

"It's your turn to talk. How do you afford this? What do you do?

She smiled and said, "my last name is Brown, the only child and daughter of Sam Brown, who owns Brown Industries. It's not a huge firm but it has five divisions. Dad wants me to take over running the business so I've been working in various divisions over time to get experience. I moved here last year as I took a new position.

Dad keeps this place for when he travels and entertains. Before this I graduated in three years from Stanford. Like you, I stayed on for an MBA and then joined the family business. It's been a lot of work and not much play."

"What do you do for fun?"

"I've been taught to be very careful in relationships, especially with men. The name attracts lots of attention. I've dated some but nothing's clicked for me. When I was at Stanford I dated a lot more. I was surrounded by lots of wealth and intellect. It was a very comfortable place.

Now I attract too many potential suitors who only see the dollar signs. So I learn languages while I'm here alone on this couch. I know four: English, French, Spanish and Russian. Given how the world's going I should have learned Chinese instead."

We conducted the next half hour of our conversation in French, then switched to Spanish. After that, I said, "your languages are excellent, better than mine."

Bethany smiled at me and said, "For a guy who put himself through school fighting fires I'm surprised you know them so well."

"Firefighting paid for all my schooling. I received a settlement from the Forest Service for my injuries. It paid for the last year of school and grad school. So I had more time on my hands than before and turned to languages as an outlet. I enjoyed the intellectual challenge. It's only in the last year that I've started outdoor activities again."

"You lived through a mind-altering event. It has marked you as different. The ordinary doesn't fulfill you. I can understand that. I lived it through you telling me your story last night. It's changed me as well. I'm so glad you survived. My life would be far less rich if you had died. The question is what will you do next? It's got to grab you and hold your interest."

"Good question. I'll stay where I am until I figure that out."

"Come work with me."

"Bethany, we've known each other less than twenty four hours. That seems premature."

"I know you better than almost all the people I know. You're a good man and a good person who obviously is very intelligent. You opened yourself last night in a way that touched me so. You, for lack of a better term, are just real, something I can't say for most people I meet. There are no facades. Those are admirable qualities and are highly marketable."

"Thanks for the offer. It's flattering but I want to know you more as a person before possibly mixing business with personal."

"Just think about it. Now go home and take a shower, change clothes and get clothes for tomorrow. I want you to spend the night with me."

I did as she said and returned to find her in the kitchen. She had changed as well and was wearing an almost see-thru pair of yoga pants, a clearly visible thong nestled between her ass cheeks and a nice top. She was barefoot and the whole outfit was as sexy as seeing her naked.

"You look wonderful," I told her. "You didn't need to cook, I would gladly take you to dinner."

"You told me last night you ate out a lot so I wanted something different. You're cooking, too. Get in here and chop up these vegetables."

We danced around each other as we cooked. She told me about her last relationship, "it just never took off. There had been so much promise as we shared many things but it didn't evolve. As a date David was an eight but beyond that a five at best."

"I haven't been close with any woman since Sarah left. That was six or so years ago. The skin grafts turn off a lot of people."

"Nobody's perfect. I'm certainly not twenty two anymore. The tone of my skin has changed, I'm curvier than before and my ass isn't as tight as it once was. I'm spreading out."

"You must have beat them off with a club at that age. Talk about a man magnet."

Bethany laughed. "It was ok as long as it was first name only. Getting picked up and taken back to a guy's house for some overnight sex worked just fine. I had bought an old car just for this purpose. They would take me back to my car the next day and have no idea of who I was. Once they knew who I was it changed everything. What are you, twenty six or so?"

"I just turned twenty six. Good guess. My parents weren't well off but I didn't want for the basics. Their gift to me was money to pay for my freshman year. How they saved it I don't know. I was in my third and final summer of firefighting when my accident happened. I got through the rest of school and recovery then started making good money. It's just dull or rapacious."

"I was a trust fund baby in school, as were so many of my friends. Now I draw a salary from work but it's not overwhelming. This penthouse is paid for by the corporation as is my car. I get control of my trust fund when I turn thirty. That's in less than two years."

"I like older women."

"Stop! I'm not that much older than you."

We smiled at each other over the banter between us. It was all in fun and I slowly learned more about her. I cleared the dishes from the table and cleaned the kitchen. When it was spotless I joined her on "our" couch.

"What now? I asked her. "If you had a tv we could watch a bad translation of a Spanish program on Netflix. Otherwise I'm not sure of what's next."

Bethany scooted over next to me and laid her head on my shoulder. "This is nice. I'm full from a good meal I made with an interesting man, we've talked about a range of things, it's just nice to touch."

I had realized in the kitchen that she was tall, probably five feet, nine inches. I just hadn't noticed before. She was a substantial woman who has presence. I couldn't imagine her any more slim than she already was. It wasn't a model's body to be sure, she had too much in the boob department for that. Otherwise she was tall, slim, had curly, honey colored hair and long legs.

We chatted back and forth for a while. By then it was dark outside and we sat in darkness looking at the lights of the city.

"Let's go to bed. I have to get up early to fly to headquarters to meet with Dad," she told me.

She directed me to a spare toothbrush. I had to wonder if she had a drawer full of them somewhere. We went to bed naked again. This time she kissed me, a slow, light kiss at first, followed by a deep kiss. Her hands were moving over my body. It felt wonderful. I picked her up and put her on top of me. My hands went to her ass cheeks and squeezed them as I kissed her back. We did this for a while, then she moved down my body and kissed my balls, then my cock. She made love to my cock. It had been too long since I felt anything like this. She looked up at me and said, "cum in my mouth."