“Grandpa and Grandma are fucked if it comes this way,” Curt said with a grimace. My mom’s parents lived in a tiny house on the club’s property. “But the clubhouse and garage are brick buildings,” Curt said. “That should make a difference, right?”
“Sure,” my dad replied. “It could.”
“This is fuckin’ weird,” I mumbled shaking my head. It was so surreal.
We’d dealt with forest fires before. Wildfires on the west coast were actually pretty common—but there’d never been anything so close to home. The county was telling people that the firefighters were doing a good job at keeping the fires away from homes, but we knew a few people that had lost everything already, and the fires were moving quick. Truth was, firefighters couldn’t be everywhere at once.
“What about Gramps Casper?” Curt asked my dad. “Do you know what his plan is?”
My dad’s parents lived in an old farmhouse outside of town, about six or seven minutes from our place. It wasn’t a straight shot there by any means, but the fire lines were so wide that their place was in just as much danger as my parents’ house. More, maybe.
“Charlie’s over there helpin’ pack,” my dad said, nodding. “Plus, they’ve got CeeCee and Woody next door.”
“Saying next door sounds like they live fifty feet away,” I said with a huff.
My dad laughed. “You know what I mean. Their place is close enough. If the oldies need help in a hurry, Woody’s right there.”
“Wait, that generation is considered the oldies?” Curt joked. “I’ve been using it for you guys.”
“Watch it,” my mom said, pointing at him as she tucked herself under my dad’s armpit. “I’m not old yet.”
“What about Aunt Lily and Leo?” I asked. “They good?”
“Their house should be fine,” my dad said.
“We’ll probably all end up there before this shit is over,” my mom said with a sigh. “I’m sure as hell not staying in your apartment.”
“I resent that,” Curtis shot back.
“It’s clean,” I said with a shrug.
“It’s tiny,” my mom replied. “And smells like funk.”
“It doesn’t smell like funk,” I argued. “I got rid of the funk smell when I moved in.”
“He did,” Curtis said with a nod. “Smells like lemon now.”
“I mopped the floor.” I chuckled. “It wasn’t hard.”
“I don’t even understand what you’re saying right now,” Curtis replied. “Womp womp womp.”
“Slob,” I said, covering it with a fake cough.
“Priss,” he replied, using the same cough trick.
“You’re both right,” my dad interrupted with a grin. “Two sides of the same damn coin.”
“I need to find some flashlights before it gets really dark in here,” my mom said, pulling away from my dad. “Are they still on the shelf in the garage?”
“Yeah, but half the batteries are dead,” he said with a grimace. “I’ll help ya. I stocked up a couple weeks ago.”
“I’m gonna head to the grandparents’ and make sure they don’t need anything,” Curtis announced. He looked at me. “You comin’?”
“Sure. Unless you were plannin’ on walking?” I was the one who’d driven. Roxanne and Curt’s motorcycle were already parked safely at our cousin Tommy’s house in town.
“Let me know where you’re at, alright?” my dad said.
“Bye, love you!” my mom called out over her shoulder.
With assurances that we’d text them, we left the house and climbed into my truck.
“It fuckin’ stinks out here,” I bitched.
“Like a campfire on crack,” Curtis agreed. “Wonder how this shit started.”
“Probably some idiot that didn’t put out their campfire that they weren’t even supposed to have,” I grumbled.
“Or tossed their cigarette out the window,” Curtis added.
“Haven’t had any storms lately,” I said as I turned around in the driveway and headed toward the road. “It wouldn’t have been lightning.”
“Maybe someone took out a power pole and it sparked,” Curt said. “Who knows? I’m sure they’ll figure it out eventually. Doubt they’re too concerned with it at the moment.”
We both stared at the road ahead of us, straining to see through the smoke. It was the strangest fucking thing. Like fog, almost, but thicker.
“If I get rear ended I’m gonna be pissed,” I said, turning on my hazard lights to give anyone behind us more notice that we were there. “But I’m not goin’ any faster.”
“Yeah, I’d be just as pissed if you hit someone else,” Curt said leaning forward a little. “I’m a delicate flower,” he joked. “Probably your best bet to go slow.”
It took us twice as long to get to my grandparents’ house as it would’ve on a normal day, and I was oddly relieved to see that it was unscathed, even though I’d known that everything was fine before I’d left my parents’ house.
“Gramps shouldn’t be on the bike in this shit,” I said to Curt as I shut off the pickup.
“I’ll offer to move it if it comes to that,” he agreed, nodding.
We hurried toward the house and I didn’t even pause, knocking as I opened the front door.