I was in the den, my head buried in the manuscript, when I heard Dad call out from the top of the stairs, "Anybody home down there?"

Maggie replied, "We're all here except Josh, Dad. What's up?"

"That's right . . . I forgot. Josh's on that Boy Scout camping trip 'til tomorrow night. Any how, I was thinking . . . it's such a nice day I thought I'd toss some burgers on the grill. Want to join Mom and me for lunch?"

"Sounds great," said Maggie. "I'll check with Joe."

I got up from my desk. I'd been working on editing all morning, even skipping breakfast. My stomach was starting to growl. I needed a break! Just as Maggie walked in, I smiled and said, "I heard you and Dad talking. Tell him to put a couple burgers on for me, too. I'm starving!"

Maggie offered to help and gathered some leftovers from the fridge she wanted to use up before the trip, including a big bowl of chips and dip.

I came outside a few minutes later to lend a hand on the grill. "How's your book coming along?" Dad asked.

"Almost done! I'm on the penultimate chapter," I told him. "I'll be mailing it to the publisher on Monday, and you can't imagine how relieved I am that I was able to finish it before the trip. I felt kind of guilty depositing that advance check before completing the editing they wanted done. Now I can go on vacation and relax without an unfinished manuscript nagging in the back of my mind the whole time."

As I spoke, I heard the Waverly fire horn blowing in the distance.

"Whew," I said, "it's a hot day for fighting a fire. I sure feel sorry for those guys. Hope my pager stays quiet all weekend so I can finish these last two chapters."

As we continued cooking and chatting, the Merriwether fire horn sounded.

"Uh oh," I said.

"Here, grab a burger quick," Dad said. "That way you'll at least have something in you if you have to go."

As I took a big bite of the burger my pager went off.

"You're responding to a mutual aid call in Waverly. There's a brush fire spreading rapidly in the reservation . . ."

"Joe!" Maggie shrieked. "That's where Josh's Scout Troop is camping!"

I was well aware of that. I dashed to the van, radioed the police that I'd respond to the scene and, with my blue light flashing, tore off down the road.

As I started up the mountain, my eyes kept scanning the sky for signs of smoke. I could picture this turning into a full-scale forest fire with the kids being trapped in a wall of flames. My heart pounded. Then I spotted the first wisps of smoke. Although I tried to keep both eyes on the road, they were riveted on the smoke, and it seemed to be getting thicker and darker by the minute.

I screeched to an abrupt halt behind the last of a line of fire trucks and ran frantically to find someone in charge. Finally I located Bob Flynn, the Waverly fire chief. We'd met a few times at various meetings of fire chiefs and rescue squad captains.

Gasping for breath, I managed to choke out that there was a Boy Scout troop camping somewhere in the area.

Bob paled, but thanked me for letting him know. He got on his walkie-talkie and passed the word along.

"All hands--I need four men to head immediately for Camp Weekeewatchee--there's a Boy Scout troop camped out there," he relayed. "Everyone else keep fighting that fire."

Panicky, I asked, "Where is the camp in relation to the fire?"

"It's about a mile to the west. With the wind blowing the opposite way, they probably aren't even aware of the fire yet," Bob replied.

"Bob," I said shakily, "my son's with that troop. I've got to go in there!"

"Whoa," Bob said, "not a chance. You know I can't let you do that. It's way too dangerous. I don't even have any spare gear I could loan you. Sorry, but no way."

I began pacing. I knew Bob was right, but I felt so helpless and scared. I listened intently to every transmission that came over Bob's radio. After what seemed like a lifetime, but was in reality only ten minutes, I heard, "We've got the boys, chief! We're heading your way with them."

I almost passed out with relief. Leaning against the fire engine, I wiped my brow and whispered, "Thank God!"

After another eternity, I finally spotted a group of people heading our way. I strained to see if Josh was among them. Even as they got closer, I couldn't spot him. Then I noticed that there were only two firemen with the two Scoutmasters and the group of boys.

Rushing over to one of the Scoutmasters, I grabbed his arm. "Where's Josh?"

"He ran off into the woods after some old man he'd seen walking that way," was the reply. "We tried to stop him, but he was too quick. Two of the firemen went after him."

Immediately I started heading in the direction the group had come from. Bob grabbed my arm, but I shook it off and began running.

Fortunately, before I got very far, the other two firemen emerged, carrying someone, with Josh walking alongside. I ran up to him and hugged him tight. He hugged back just as hard.

"Sorry if I gave you a scare, Dad," Josh said, "but I just couldn't leave that poor old guy in there. We didn't know about the fire, and I'm sure he didn't either. I just had to find him."

"Are you okay, Josh? And is he hurt badly," I asked.

"I'm fine, and I don't think he's too badly off," Josh replied. "He said he'd tripped over a tree root and fallen. He twisted his ankle and couldn't walk on it. I was sure glad to see these two firemen come along!"

The firemen carried the injured man toward the Merriwether ambulance. Carole and Bill Flanagan met them with the stretcher and helped get the old man positioned comfortably on it.

Josh and I helped them lift the stretcher into the rig. Another crew member, Billy Baines, was in the back and had already gotten it cooled off with the air conditioner.

Bill was driving and I told him, "As long as you've got a full crew here, I think Josh and I will stay here on stand-by in case the fire department needs us. You're going to come back here after you drop him off at St. Francis, right?"

"We sure are," Bill said. "We won't be that long."

I went over to Bob and asked if he wanted Merriwether's other rig to stand by until the first rig returned.

"No," Bob said, "I think we're okay. We've got the two Waverly rigs here, and it looks like we're getting this thing under control. The wind's died down, which is a big help. If it'll just stay quiet for another half hour, I think we'll have it licked."

Fortunately, Mother Nature cooperated, and in only twenty minutes every trace of fire had been quenched. The Waverly fire department said they'd stay a while longer, then thanked and dismissed both rescue squads as well as the Merriwether fire department.

Josh and I arrived home to resounding cheers. As soon as Josh alighted from the van, they surrounded him, smothering him with hugs and kisses. Little Becky practically crushed Josh's knees she squeezed them so hard.

After everyone settled down, Dad announced he'd warm up the burgers and resume the picnic we'd started earlier. As we gathered around the table enjoying the food, I told them what a hero Josh had been. Josh blushed, insisting anyone would have done the same thing under the circumstances.

We had always been a close-knit family, but something like this made us all more keenly aware of it.






Continue to Chapter 24


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