TWO OLD FRIENDS, one plump and grey, the other as frail as a bird, share a bench in the park, grateful for the summer sunshine.
“How is she today?” the plump one asks.
“Not good, Rose. I’ve just come from her side. I don’t think she’ll live out the day.”
“Don’t fret, Viv. Death is part of life. The endless circle.” Rose pats her shoulder. “Clara is going to a better place. No more pain and suffering. We’ll see her again soon enough.”
“It’s not that.” Viv’s rheumy eyes leak tears. Her lower lip trembles. “I just—I wish it was me.”
Rose hands her a handkerchief.
“Thank you,” Viv says, dabbing at her eyes.
She pauses a moment to collect herself.
“I never wanted to grow old, you know. I wanted to burn fast and die young. Now look at me. We were never meant to live this long. I’m so tired of being old and grey.”
She fumbles in her purse.
“Viv! Put that away. You know you can’t smoke here!”
“You can’t smoke anywhere anymore!” she says, showing a spark of her old fire.
“Come on then. Let’s go for a walk.”
They hobble off, holding onto each other for support. A crisp carpet of pine needles cushions their steps. Rose points to a bench deep in the trees, and they settle, breathless.
Pines tower above them, filtering the heat. Viv shivers. “I wouldn’t say no to a nice toasty cremation. The summers are getting hotter, but I’m always chilled.”
She roots around in her bag again. “‘Stop smoking,’ they said. ‘It’s dangerous.’ Ha! What do they know?”
Rose nods. “Not many pleasures left at our age. Need a light?”
“Please.”
A spark flares. Tendrils of smoke curl around them.
“I was quite a beauty when I was young, you know. Men worshipped me.”
“I remember, Viv. Quite the catch.”
“If they could catch me.” A mischievous smile flickers then fades. “But now . . . People don’t even see me anymore. It’s like I don’t even exist. Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
“Of course I do. Not so much losing my looks. It’s the attitude that really burns me up,” says Rose. “Hmph. I may not be a spring chicken, but I’m not dead yet.”
Viv breathes out a cloud of smoke. “Wasn’t like that when we were young.”
“Mm. People respected their elders. Didn’t think they knew it all. They listened, instead of flapping their gums all the time.”
Viv nods. “Try to tell them that today.”
They shake their heads.
“Bunch of tree huggers,” says Rose. “What do they know?”
Viv sniffs. “Moderation in all things. That’s how I was raised.”
“Remember Smoky the Bear? ‘Only you can prevent forest fires.’”
Viv titters.
“They think they’re so clever, putting out fires before they begin. Now it’s out of control. First Fort McMurray. Now the BC Interior. When will they ever learn?”
Viv breathes in. “Look.” She points to a column of smoke rising in the distance.
“Clara.”
They hurry into the woods, following the drift of smoke to its source. Already the fire pops and sparks. Flames dance along the forest floor and soar to the treetops, leaping from pine to pine. Rose and Viv glow ember-red and amber in the blistering heat.
Bathed in wildfire, a child wails. “Clara darling,” Rose coos. “You must be famished.”