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Traci
WHEN TRACI ARRIVED at the campgrounds, Milo was pulling Jinx, Bebe, and the boarded horses from their stalls and leading them into the awaiting trailers borrowed from rescue groups and private farms around the region. He had gotten the word out through the online Equi-Sports group, his friends, and the people in his customer contact list.
Brad was on a bullhorn commanding that all the residents and visitors to “Get out! Get out Now!” Many of them were grappling with bags and boxes of their personal belongings. Some only with a few mementos and blankets, holding hands and running along the paths. It was like a horror movie but far worse because these were people that she knew in real life. She was watching their lives fall apart in real time, and it was more frightening than anything she could ever imagine.
Randall was wrestling with his protective gear when he spotted Traci through the crowd as she stood trembling with the noise and commotion surrounding her. Her eyes filled with tears at the sight of him. Her arms reached out for him, then dropped to her sides. He rushed over to confront her.
“Where's Remy?” he shouted.
“With Candace.”
“Go home!” He turned away from her again, adjusted his boots, snapped close the protective jacket and pulled on the respirator.
“Randall ...”
The roof of the management office collapsed under the flames and embers splashed on the ground around the people as they screamed and ran toward the highway. More emergency workers arrived riding in the bed of Sal’s Plumbing and Sewage pickup truck. Traci saw Moe helping several of the residents make their way down the gravel path out of harm’s way. There was a small explosion in the maintenance shed and a burst of flames lit up the scene. The shed was totally consumed in minutes. They had installed safeguards and sprinklers throughout the campgrounds, but the fire was beyond their capacity.
Randall turned and waved frantically for Traci to move back, pointing to the clearing near one of the EMT wagons. The wooden roof over the community play area came crashing down into the sand causing a cloud of smoke and grit to rise up and envelope a group of families as they fled.
“Randall, please ...” Traci cried out, then began coughing and gagging on the smog. He shook his head, glanced around and joined her again. She placed her hands on his arms to steady herself, and looked around frantically. What could she say? What could she do? She opened her mouth and every one of her fears came spilling out. “I don't know ... Randall, it's just ... the police found those dead bodies and arrested me, then all the construction permits and invoices came due with no way to pay them, and now this. I just ... What I said about you being jealous about Ray ... I should have told you ... And now everything’s gone.”
Randall pulled down his respirator and gathered his gear into one hand. With the other hand, he grabbed a fist full of Traci’s shirt and pulled her against his chest. He looked deeply into her eyes. He didn't try to hide his desperation, anger, and frustration. Everything about their lives was raw before them in that moment.
“I don't care about that. None of it,” he shouted. “I don't care about Ray, about what you said, or I said. You're my wife, Tracinda. You need to trust me. I want you to come to me first. Always.” He waited for her eyes to focus on his and continued, “But it’s your call. Right now, if you say the word, I'll stand right here with you and watch this place burn to the ground.” He placed his lips against her cheek. “But, if you still want to fight, we'll fight.” He held his breath and waited again.
She leaned into his embrace and whispered, “Fight.”
He put on his respirator, turned away from her and disappeared into the crowd. She gripped her hair and watched as the news crews scrambled to line up the video cameras for the perfect angle of the devastation. She thought she heard the sound of helicopters overhead, but she couldn’t see through the smoke. Please let it be the firefighters. Please.
Josh had entrusted her with his legacy and the lives of the people residing at the campgrounds. Now she was watching her love, the father of her only son rush toward the flames to protect it. It was more than she could bear. Her legs grew weak beneath her and she began sobbing uncontrollably. She felt a hand slip around her shoulder, and she was nudged into the man’s arms. She buried her face in his chest, her heart racing as she tried to shut out the sounds of the turmoil happening around them.
What if Randall didn’t make it back? So many people were depending on her and there was nothing she could do but wait until more help arrived and hope that the fire would be contained until then. And that no one died that night. “Please God, protect them all,” she whispered. Finally, she took a deep breath, opened her eyes and looked into the face of the man comforting her. It was Ray.
“I assume the brothers are out there beating back the flames. Where's Milo?” he asked in his usual flat tone.
“With the horses,” she said and began digging through her pockets for a tissue. He reached into his inside jacket pocket and offered his handkerchief. She refused and he wiped the tear stains from his lapel and replaced the cloth to his pants pocket.
“Of course, he is. I guess that’s to be expected. Where did all these emergency workers come from?”
“From across the tri-county. They monitor the emergency frequency on their scanners. Some are first responders, but most of them are volunteers doing whatever they can.”
“Across the tri-county?” He wrinkled his brow and stared at her. “For this place?”
“Yes, Ray.” She pushed herself away from him. “Yes, for this place.” She glared at him. “If you're not here to help, why are you here?”
“To watch my money burn, apparently.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at her. “And the death of all your hopes and dreams. Appears to be a total loss here. So, what are you going to do now, my dear?”
Traci stepped toward him again. Her face was tense, her lungs ached from inhaling the smog, the ash floated like feathers onto her hair and the ground around her feet. She could feel the words spitting forth from her mouth like the flames crackling in the trees around them. She felt dangerous, not in danger, like she could drive her fingernails into his throat and not care at all how they dealt with her afterwards. She should step away, calm down, take a breath, count to ...
“I don’t know what’s going to happen, Ray!” She shouted at the top of her lungs, then started coughing, cleared her throat and continued, “But, here's one thing I do know. I was wrong about you.” She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve so hard it made her nose bleed. She didn’t care and walked straight up to his face.
“I didn't want to believe it. That you were as cold and heartless as you let on. I thought it was like ... a wall you put up to keep people away. But the truth is,” she took a deep breath and planted her feet, “the truth is, that's who you really are. Deep down, you only think about you. That’s all. Seriously, is there anyone you actually care about besides yourself?”
He looked past her into the crowd of people that were rushing through the trails, the men revving up chainsaws, carrying axes and buckets into the woods, the flames that were leaping overhead. “Yes.” He looked back at her. “Yes, there is.”