A Scout Is...

Chapter 2: Big Bad Fire

              If one had to use one choice word to describe these boys, those three words would be ‘dazed and confused.’ These guys couldn’t be any worse off. Tension was high and it soared even higher when all three conscious boys were forced to stay in the remains of Howard’s treasured car – together.

            As Dan and Jackson lay out cold, and Howard snored the night away, Cody and Austin were engaged in a heated debate over which Yu-Gi-Oh! card tactics would tally you up a win against the reigning game champion in the troop. Davy was on his stomach, sleepless, trying to convince himself that they weren’t trapped and that all he had to do was push the door open, not pull.

******

           Over in Andy’s neck of the woods the three older boys were talking and lying under a tree. They were all exhausted and their bodies ached from the accident, and for the time being tried to put the situation behind them. The Sheriff on the other hand was still stuck in the distant past of a couple of hours ago, which seemed like a memory to Trevor, Sean and Tyler. Every once in a while the sheriff would look up from his countless survival plots in the mud and ask the boys if they wanted to turn on the radio (he thought it would soothe them). After a couple rejections on their part, the Scouts finally agreed.

           Andy staggered over to the screaming metal death trap he had once called a truck and leaned into the front seats. “What station you boys want it on?”

             They looked at each other and shrugged. It was somewhere around 3 A.M. and they had no idea if they were near the campsite or if Howard’s group had even made it there. Sean’s iPod was in his jacket pocket, which lay on the ground next to Tyler and Trevor’s jackets. Right now it was forgotten with the (luckily fading) trauma of the accident.

    “We don’t care what station!” Sean reported.  Fortunately for the boys, What is Love by Haddaway was playing. Trevor, Sean and Tyler began to bob their heads Night at the Roxbury style. Sheriff Andy however turned it off in a flash, mumbling something about terrible 90’s music.

      “But the 90’s are all that,” Trevor said. Andy turned it on some crappy country music and walked back over to the tree. The boys suffered through this kind of torture for a few minutes, and then a new torture arose. Some old country singer’s terrible voice came on the air, singing about throwing down a hoedown or something like that. Andy, being a huge fan of old country music, knew the whole dance that apparently accompanied this nightmarish tune.

                 He sprinted back to the truck to grab his trusty, big bad cowboy hat. The trio watched with grimaced mouths and horrified expressions as they were not looking forward to watching Andy ‘shake what his mama gave him.’ The sheriff lit a lighter as he searched, which proved to be a HUGE mistake.

          He started to do his strange dance when he slipped in a concoction of mud, water and gasoline, bashing his skull against the top of the car and knocking the lit cigarette out of his mouth. He landed with a thud, turning his head just in time to see his smoke hit the ground and land into the puddle of gas leaking from the car.

                     “Oh my gosh Andy! Are you alright?” Tyler asked.

     Andy looked up. “Yeah boys I’ll survive. So what station you want it on?”

             With that the whole night was lit up. The spot where the truck lie grew exponentially bright and the sound of two great boulders colliding filled the air. The boys felt the cool air around them suddenly turn very hot. The truck became a huge ball of fire. Metal and gears and all the contraptions of Andy’s truck were cremated, along with Andy himself. The oil that had flowed out like a river now lit up and began to burn. Trees toppled over and chaos reigned. The boys had been blown backward from the force of the explosion but had not been hurt. Everything around them was burning.

******

               Howard woke up. He had had a terrible dream. A fire had been in it and Pizza Hut and terrible 90’s music! He looked over the horizon of trees and saw a faint glowing far down below in the sea of trees. There had been a terrible loud noise and then it was over. Howard decided it must have been a dream. Further back on in the woods, none of the sleeping Scouts in Howard’s car had woken. Cody and Austin were so focused on their game that they didn’t hear it.

******

              For a while the fire was dominate over the forest – until the rain came. It was like a miracle from the heavens, pouring down onto them. After about a good two and a half hours of heavy on and off pouring, the majority of the fire had been extinguished; small individual fires still burned throughout the area. Trevor, Sean and Tyler found the tattered remains of Sheriff Andy’s hat, the last reminder of the great man they had once known. They decided on constructing a grave for him and got to work. At 6:15 A.M. they were finally done burying him. The boys realized though, when they lowered his black burned body into the grave, his size seventeen, custom made, steel toed boots were sticking out of the freshly dug ground. The three looked at each other and got back to work.

       Andy was finally buried correctly and Trevor had made a headstone for him. “Alright guys let’s crash for the night.” All of them gathered up their jackets and sat under an old elm tree. The three companions sipped some water they had collected in their water bottles – it was cold and fresh and served their parched mouths well. They slept quite comfortable next to a still flaming piece of metal. The rain had stopped completely and the moon was uncovered. The boys slept until about 9:00 A.M.

      “Okay guys, let’s figure out what we’re gonna do,” Tyler called out. Daylight had come and the morning was cool from last night’s rain. Sean grabbed the tattered remains of Andy’s hat and adjusted it on his head, stuffing the Yankees hat in his jacket, which he tied around his waist. Trevor stood over the grave they had made, puzzled. The other two walked over. They read what Trevor had engraved on the headstone: Here lies Sheriff Adny, who never really was a sheriff.

          “Say Trevor,” said Sean, “didn’t you win the spelling bee one year?” Trevor grinned sheepishly. “That’s why I only won it one year,” he retorted.

***

            Miles away back in Vandalia, Ohio, Howard’s wife Leisa waited at home for a call to confirm that the boys made it safely to the campsite. She was a plump woman in her mid forties with brunet hair that lightly touched her shoulders. Her pale skin complemented her sky blue eyes; they made her seem vibrant. Toilet paper lay strewn near the front door while Howard’s fishing rod lied against the garage door. Leisa shook her head at the sight of this. Howard had forgotten these items the last camping trip. He always seemed to be in such a rush to get to the campsite that he didn’t take the time to look at their inventory.

             Looking at her watch it read 7:00 A.M. She began to panic and picked up the phone frantically.

            “452 Missing Person’s Service what seems to be your problem?” the operator asked.

“Yes, I’d like to report missing Boy Scouts from Troop 307,” Leisa responded.

         “They went missing on their way to a campout?”

          Leisa said, “Yes they did. They were going to–“ she began but there was a yell from the kitchen.

     “Mom!” Cal yelled, “I got my hand stuck in the toaster.  Again.” Leisa sighed, told the operator she would call again at a more fit time and rushed into the dining room.