The Land of Burned Out Fires Read online

  Robert chuckled. “Maybe in a ceremony but certainly not every day.”

  “What if someone was making a movie?”

  “I suppose—if there was one—which there isn’t. Why do you ask?”

  For a moment Kayla thought she’d spill everything. But much as she enjoyed Robert and sensed he wanted to tell her everything he could, Morning Song had said she’d come looking for her. Besides, Robert would tell her she was crazy. “No reason,” she muttered.

  “All right.” He stared at her. “I don’t want to think about the hoops a movie company would have to jump through if they wanted to film a movie here.”

  “Red tape?”

  “And then some.”

  Although she wanted to spend more time in the visitor’s center, Kayla left when the ranger started turning off lights. What had happened earlier today—and it had happened, darn it—still felt weird. The more she thought about what Morning Song had said, the more confused she became. Part of her wanted to forget everything and go back to just being sixteen, but there was no forgetting; the still-warm stone around her neck made that impossible as did her memory of Morning Song’s tears and plea for help.

  “You got back just in time,” Joel told her when she returned to the group. They were all sitting at a picnic table and, except for Joel, more interested in chowing down than conversation. Joel handed her a full paper plate. “The burger’s getting cold, but if you’re as hungry as I am, you won’t mind.”

  Kayla sat across from him. Usually the idea of talking to a boy, particularly someone who’d graduated from high school, made it hard to swallow, but she barely noticed him. She added catsup and mustard to her hamburger and took a bite.

  “Where did you go?” Joel asked.

  “To the visitors’ center.”

  “What for?”

  “Oh, some questions I had about—just some questions.”

  “I want to go there myself. At first I didn’t care, but I was talking to some hikers who told me about the caves that are around here. I guess they’re still discovering new passages. A lot are open to the public. Exploring some would be a kick, cooler than above ground this time of year, that’s for sure.”

  “Caves?” she said around a mouthful she couldn’t taste.

  “Sure. Once the volcanic eruption ended, and the lava started cooling, all kinds of caves and tunnels were formed. I wonder what it was like back when boiling lava flowed over trees and grass, hills, and valleys and covered huge chunks of the land.”

  “I don’t know.” The thought that they might be close to a cave was unsettling.

  “Don’t you think about it?” Joel pressed.

  She started to mutter something, then shook her head. “I guess I haven’t. I didn’t know this place existed before we came here.”

  “Me either, but it’s fascinating, particularly all that black lava. I’ve always had this thing for geology, and the land formations are awesome. I’m thinking about coming back in a few weeks. Do you hike?”

  “No, but my brother does. He’s always taking off somewhere.”

  “Sounds like a nice gig if you can get it. How does he support himself?”

  She wanted to eat and think, not talk. “Doing stuff. It drives our folks nuts. They think he’s wasting time.”

  “They give him the song and dance about college?”

  “They try, but he’s gone so much that I’m the one who has to listen.”

  Joel chuckled. “I know what that feels like only now it’s my little brother who gets the lectures. So what’s this stuff your brother does?”

  “We have an uncle who remodels houses. Chuck worked with him all through high school so he’s handy, especially with plumbing. Whenever he needs money, he signs on with some builder.”

  Joel whistled. “Maybe that’s what I should do instead of modeling.”

  Kayla poured herself some of the iced tea and drank. It tasted wonderful.

  “What about you?” Joel asked. “Any plans to become a supermodel?”

  “In my dreams. I’m not tall or exotic, and I don’t know what to do with my hands, not yet anyway. I’d love—much as I’d love to see my face on the cover of a magazine, I don’t think my folks would let me.”

  “They don’t want you getting rich and supporting them?”

  She had to laugh. Joel was turning out to be easier to talk to than she’d thought. “College,” she mimicked her father. “College first and foremost.”

  “Is that your goal or theirs?”

  “Good question. I’m not sure,” she said because she didn’t know Joel well enough to admit how many times she’d fantasized about a career as a model. “It’s hard to think that far ahead.”

  “Do. Take it from me, the voice of experience.” He laughed. “A person’s got to take the bull by the horns. That’s why I’ve decided to explore those caves. If I don’t do it now, it might never happen.”

  ****

  An hour later, Kayla was still mulling over what Joel had said. She and Carrie had cleaned up after dinner while the others took off to hang out with some of the summer employees who lived in a kind of apartment not far from the RV park. Carrie was sitting at the picnic table doing her nails while Kayla wrote her grandparents—or rather tried to. Carrie, who attended the same high school as Kayla but was going to be a senior, wouldn't stop talking. She’d just asked if Kayla knew any of her friends, particularly some girl Carrie hated because she’d gotten some boy Carrie liked to take her to homecoming last year, but then she looked around and lowered her voice.

  “Joel likes you. Why didn't you say yes when he asked you out?”

  “He didn't ask me out.”

  “He asked if you'd like to hike and poke around in caves with him. I heard him.”

  “He was just making conversation.” Wasn't he? “I told him hiking wasn't my thing. And anything dark and cold gives me the creeps.”

  “Wrong, wrong, wrong.”

  “What's wrong?”

  “You never tell a guy you aren't interested in his interests, especially not one as good looking as Joel.”

  Joel was handsome all right. He was also starting college. She pointed that out.

  “All the better. Think of the parties he could take you to.”

  “My parents would never allow it. Besides, he's going to school in California. We'd never see each other.”

  “You could on vacations. Or you could tell your folks you were going somewhere with friends for the weekend, then drive down to see him.”

  Even if her folks let her borrow one of their cars, Kayla couldn't imagine doing something like that, but if she said so, Carrie might think she was a kid. She wasn't, just younger than the others here. Hoping to end the conversation, she picked up her pen again, but before she could think of anything to write, someone called her name. Looking up, she spotted Rory waving at her from the door to the guys' travel trailer.

  “You have to see this,” the photographer said, rushing his words. “You aren't going to believe it.”

  “What aren't I going to believe?” Kayla asked as she got up and went over to him.

  The answer to that question was displayed on the monitor of the laptop Rory had brought with him. He'd hooked up his digital camera so he could look at the shots he'd taken today. As he explained, they'd all looked pretty much like he'd expected—until this one of Kayla.

  She wasn't looking into the camera or posed to show off her clothes—the sequined knit shirt and ragged jeans. Instead, she was staring over her shoulder at where she'd seen Morning Song.

  There was a shadow on her face that looked for all the world like a wing. Rory scanned to the top of the picture. An eagle was flying overhead.

  Chapter Four

  Kayla doubted she slept more than a couple of hours. The rest of the time she stared into the dark, seeing that impossible photograph in her mind. She had to admit that the soft wing shadow over her face made a dramatic image, in part because she'd had a faraway look and
seemed unaware of what any rational human being couldn’t ignore. But what totally blew her mind was the eagle's size. She'd never seen one close up and hadn't realized they were so big and strong or that their beaks and claws looked capable of tearing a rhinoceros apart. Eagles might have reputations as being noble and exotic; what she saw was a creature no one in their right mind would pick a fight with.

  Rory struck her as a competent and no-nonsense photographer caught up in the millions of details that went into making a shot come out right. He could take one look at his surroundings and know exactly what filters and lens speed was needed. Nothing, certainly not working with five young people who'd been strangers to each other, seemed to faze him. At least as far as she knew, nothing had until he'd seen that picture.

  “I've done outdoor work for years,” Rory had told her as they stared at the monitor. “I've had bugs and butterflies and cats and dogs and other critters you don't want to know about try to get in on the action, and don't let me get started on a shoot I did at a petting zoo with a couple of burros, but this—this...”

  “It's eerie,” she'd admitted.

  “Beyond.” She’d expected him to offer some kind of explanation, but Rory had left it at that.

  Giving up on silencing her mind, Kayla slipped out of bed. She'd been assigned one of the bottom bunks and nothing squeaked making it easier to move around without disturbing the others. After pulling a sweatshirt over her cotton sleeveless top to ward against the early morning cold, she added shorts and tennis shoes and carefully opened the fifth wheel's door. The sun was just starting to rise, and she could see the awesome nearly full moon. Mt. Shasta, the massive mountain to the south, was little more than a silhouette, and yet it held her attention. The tallest peak for hundreds of miles around was a popular location for skiing. Even now snow remained at the top.

  The Modocs had been impressed by Mt. Shasta. Maybe they occasionally traveled there, although for what purpose she couldn't figure out since the top was nothing but rocks. At the thought, she became aware of her necklace's weight and placed her hand over it. She'd started to remove it last night but hadn't. She couldn't say why—either that or she wasn't ready to approach the question. Every time she’d changed position during the night, she’d felt it against her skin.

  The day was going to be hot. The landmark employees who'd dropped by to visit last night had said so. Until the sun truly made its appearance known, she'd have to keep moving if she didn't want to start shivering because even in summer, high desert country really cooled off at night.

  Pumping her arms, she headed down the road to where the landmark employees stayed. Maybe a half dozen other campers and trailers were in the campground visitors used, all of them quiet. That was good because if someone asked what she was doing, she'd probably make a fool of herself.

  What do you mean, probably? You suck at lying and no one’s going to believe the truth.

  Her destination was about a half mile away, and she covered the distance at a quick walk. She was afraid she'd be too early, that everyone was still asleep, but then she spotted lights on inside the sprawling, weathered building. As she approached, the door opened and a woman her parents' age stepped outside.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  Kayla introduced herself, then swallowed. “I'd like to do some exploring this morning before I have to go to work. I was wondering, I mean, does anyone have a bicycle I could borrow?”

  “A bicycle?”

  “Like a mountain bike maybe? I won't be gone long. I promise. But, uh, there wasn't time to do any poking around yesterday, and I'd really like to get a better idea of what this place is about.”

  “It is special, isn't it? About as different from a mall as you can get. My favorite site is Schonchin Butte.”

  “Schonchin Butte?”

  The woman who introduced herself as Carol Scooner pointed. “You can't see it from here, but I bet I climb it about once a week.”

  “Why?”

  Chuckling, Carol shrugged. “Something about it keeps pulling at me. I’m not the only one who feels that way. You'll have to do it yourself to understand.”

  “I don't think I'm going to have time. We're only going to be here two more days.”

  “That's too bad.” Carol tucked her hands in her jacket pockets, drawing Kayla’s attention to her well-used, casual outfit. “Then I'll tell you a little. When I first came here, I didn't give it much thought, probably because this job calls for enough walking. I’d applied because my youngest child had just left for college, and I was rattling around alone in the house. It was time to do something different. This job opened up, and well, one thing led to another. But after I got over the shock of what I’d done, I became more and more curious about the Modocs.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Hmm. When I learned the butte is where they went for their vision quests, I needed to experience what they did—at least as much as I could.”

  “Vision quests?”

  “Part of their belief system.” Carol’s expression turned serious. “I hope you can simply accept that different people look at their existence in different ways, that there are many deities. Anyway, life was unpredictable back then, dangerous. Their enemies came in all forms, nature, other tribes, injury and illness. The Modocs, like most Indians, needed reassurance, some sign that they were going to be all right. Also, there was so much they didn't understand—like what had caused the volcanic eruptions, whether it might happen again, whether so much snow might fall that they couldn't hunt, or there wouldn't be enough rain for the plants they used and—well, like I said, so much was out of their control.”

  “I guess I never thought about that.”

  Carol shook her head. “Do. It's the only way you're going to understand. For example, there were no such things as hospitals or medical insurance, and sure as heck no 911. Phones, cars, electricity hadn’t been invented. Vision quests, or going on spiritual journeys looking for someone or something to help them get through life was how they coped with a world full of uncertainty and danger.”

  They could have turned to God, Kayla thought, but the Modocs had never read the Bible, let alone heard of it, and had never gone to church.

  “It can sound pretty strange the first time you hear it,” Carol went on as if reading her mind. “Most Americans have a basically similar religious background and accept it as the truth, but I'm sure they've covered other religions in school.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “The Indians had their own beliefs, their own sources of comfort and strength.” Carol was looking at Mt. Shasta with a far-away expression. “Theirs was a very physical existence, so naturally they turned to their surroundings for meaning and comfort. I'm sorry. I'm getting pretty heavy here.”

  “No, that's all right. I really am interested.”

  “And I could spend the rest of the day educating you—except then I'd be unemployed.” Carol laughed. “Let's see, what's the brief version? All right, typically Modocs seeking answers and guidance climbed Schonchin Butte before daybreak so they could watch the sun come up. As near as we can tell, they put themselves into a state kind of like hypnosis and prayed for dreams. Sometimes they fasted and went without sleep for extended periods–altering their consciousness, I guess. Then they fell asleep... Their dreams, when they came, naturally were about the world they knew. What they wanted were dreams about grizzlies, mountain lions and cougars, wolves, eagles.”

  Eagles. “Why?”

  “That's what I'd want protecting and guiding me. What would you rather have watching over you, a mouse or a thousand-pound bear?”

  “I see what you mean.” I think.

  “Frankly I've been holding out for an elk. For their size, they're darn fast and now that the grizzlies and wolves are gone, they don’t have any natural enemies. And beautiful. Yep, a big old elk with huge antlers. What about you?”

  An eagle. “I-I don't know.”

  “Well, maybe you'll f
ind the answer to that today. Of course as long as you wear a seatbelt and have airbags, maybe you don’t need more protection.” Carol pulled her hands out of her pockets and pointed toward the rear of the building. “My bike's back there, ugly old blue thing and no gears. I like it because it's sturdy and has tires perfect for off-road even if it doesn’t get you anywhere very fast. You're welcome to it.”

  “You don't need it?”

  “Not today. Besides, I can tell you do.”

  Kayla wasn't sure what Carol meant by that, or maybe the truth was, she didn't want to think about what her words and behavior might have told the older woman. The bike wasn't much to look at, but the seat was comfortable, and it was the right height. Because the road out to where she'd been yesterday was basically flat, she quickly covered the maybe three miles. It was full daylight by the time she reached her destination, and the promise of heat grew by the moment. Even if she didn't have to get back by 8:00 a.m., she wouldn't be able to stay out very long without water.

  Because the land looked pretty much the same in all directions, she wasn't sure she'd stopped right where the van had been parked yesterday, but she had no doubt about where she'd seen Morning Song. It felt as if the area was calling to her, waiting for her. Leaving the bike on the side of the road, she began hiking. She could still see Mt. Shasta and a much closer, tall, nearly treeless, gently rounded rise that her imagination told her could be Schonchin Butte. Frost clung to the top of the butte, and the shrubs and grasses growing on it gave it a golden hue.

  “Morning Song? Morning Song, where are you?”

  Her voice came out a whisper, and she tried again. This time she thought the words carried more than a few feet. Afraid Morning Song—if she existed—couldn't hear her this close to the road, she concentrated on walking. At one point, her shoes startled a lizard that scurried over a rock before disappearing at the base of a sagebrush clump. She wondered if there might be snakes about, then dismissed them because she had more important things to think about.