Jesse’s Species

(excerpt)

Will Nuessle       

The overnight breeze had picked up; was getting downright windy, and as she turned her head away from the smoke of the fire, blown in her face, Jessie noticed the forest was getting lighter. 

Which was very wrong.

“Jay, what time is it?”

He checked his watch. “A-almost four-thirty.” Kermit said the same, much as she’d hoped he wouldn’t.

“When’s sunrise today?”

Finley stared at her like she was crazy. “Five-thirty? Six?”

She didn’t have to say it. With the question asked, they both noticed.

“T-that’s weird.”

“Sun rising early today, is it?”

Jessie shivered again. “Pretty sure it’s not supposed to rise in the northwest.” Anger forgotten, her brain whirled. But even if…it couldn’t be that bad, could it? As she thought this, several rabbits darted through the campsite. Shortly followed by a fox that didn’t seem to be chasing them.

“What the—”

Even Papa looked up when the deer bounded out of the forest, leaping gracefully over the fire and disappearing in the same direction as the other wildlife.

Which was windward.

Papa called to Finley, who had abandoned the oatmeal to help Jessie with her pack. “What’s going on?”

“I’m fine, help Papa,” she tried to say calmly.

“Yup,” he answered, equally calm. “Ludwig, looks like breakfast is cancelled.” Several more rabbits and another deer raced past. “We need to go.”

“What?” 

“Afraid we need to leave the sleeping bag and tent behind, my friend.”

Even as he allowed Finley to help load his rucksack, Papa was still confused. “Am I going to be late for something?”

Late like the late Ludwig Delgado. She cinched her pack, smelling smoke—and not from the tiny campfire, which Jay threw sand on as she passed. “Really? Why?”

He looked at his handiwork, then at her. “F-force of h-habit.”

“Come on, flirty birds, we don’t have time,” Finley urged.

“I was not flirting,” she muttered, wishing the aspirin would kick in. Then again, headaches were suddenly way down on her list of problems.

Jay stuffed his bag liner hurriedly in his pack and snatched the camera case. They left tent, sleeping bag and oatmeal behind, trotting in the direction the animals were heading. The group was limited to Papa’s top speed, much as Jessie desperately wanted to run. From the look in his eyes, he had woken up and understood their danger. Jessie was aware of a growing crackle, like the world’s biggest fireplace.

More wildlife flashed past, mocking their two-legged progress. A fluffle of rabbits. A gaze of raccoons. A scurry of squirrels. Why do I know all those? I need a life. Hopefully she would get to keep the one she already had. “Really hope we don’t encounter a sleuth of bears.”

“Anybody know w-what she’s talking about?”

“Have learned is best not to ask,” Papa said, panting.

“How fast is a wildfire? Anybody?” Finley looked back as he put his broad, manly shoulders to good use, breaking trail for them to follow.

“American, or British?”

“Jokes, Jessita? At a time like this?”

Still mad? Is the fire my fault too? Considering who had almost certainly started it, maybe it was.

“With this w-wind, eight, m-maybe ten miles an hour.”

“And how fast are we going? I’m asking for a friend.” If Papa didn’t like her jokes he could lump it.

 Finley was maintaining his stiff upper British lip, but Jessie could see fear in his eyes. “Four, maybe five?”

I don’t like that math. The light in the trees behind was definitely getting brighter, and the crackling was more of a dull roar now. Was it also getting hotter, or was that her imagination?

The ground was rising; in a minute or two they would break out of the heavier forest. More rabbits and foxes passed as they struggled; looking west at just the right moment Jessie saw the lithe silence of a mountain lion for half a second. Even at that awful, heart-pounding instant she found herself still looking for red-golden hairs.

She watched Hero soaring on the fire’s updraft and wished uselessly for wings. At least she’ll survive.

Assuming she can live without me.

All the more reason to make it. And really, how bad could it be?

At the summit of the low hill they turned to look.

“W-wow.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Madre de Dios.”

Jessie said nothing. There were no words.

***

The forest behind them, the cedars and hemlocks and whitebark pine, habitat for countless animals, was now merely fuel for the relentless, uncaring, insatiable hunger of the wildfire. The wall of orange and red and smoke challenged the surrounding darkness, as though it would consume the world.

Right as Jessie identified her sleeping tree it exploded. Half a second later the sound reached them, barely audible amidst other bursting trees, the cries of bird and beast, and over all the commanding roar of the fire itself.

Jessie was astounded, at first, to see Jay holding the Handycam to his eye. On reflection, it made perfect sense. “Boss’ll be impressed, USC dropout.”

“Assuming anybody ever s-sees it.” 

Finley was as gobsmacked as the rest of them. “That was my oatmeal. The fire just…ate it.”

“Now I know w-what hell looks like.”

“This is as close to damnation as I care to get.” At least I’m not the only one freezing at evil today. “We’ve seen the pretty flames. Can we keep moving?”

The commando shook himself out of his stupor. “Right. Ludwig, your pack, please.” Her father surrendered it without protest as Jay quick-packed his camera and they hustled downhill. Foolish as it was, Jessie felt better when there was a ridge between them and the flames.

But no matter how fast they moved, the growl of the beast kept getting louder.

“Not to be that guy,” Jessie said as she resisted looking behind every five seconds, “but do we have a plan?”

“Follow the animals,” Finley replied curtly.

But they can outrun the fire, nobody said. If they stopped they would definitely die; if they kept going, they would only probably die. They kept going.

Jessie could see Papa struggling to keep the pace. As they forded a creek, much too small to be any kind of protection from the hungry, mindless flames, she took his hand to help him balance, and kept it when they reached dry ground. Even if you’re mad at me, I’m still here. He didn’t pull away.

Shortly after, the muted roar of the fire was augmented by howling. Not that howl, despite the sudden leap in Jessie’s heart, a second later a pack of ghostly wolves threaded through the group, sparing not a glance at the easy prey before vanishing into the gloom.

“I could do without any more of those, if God doesn’t mind,” Papa quipped weakly, for which Jessie squeezed his hand. 

“‘Think they’ll have that on the tour?’” she quoted for her own amusement.

“Must go faster,” Jay returned, possibly in response.

They hadn’t made it nearly far enough when the roar doubled, and Jessie felt the heat of it behind her. Papa looked back and moaned.

The fire was cresting the ridge they had much too recently watched it from. It was coming. Impersonal, uncaring, coming for everything. 

Trying to run, trying not to smack into the trees looming out of the darkness, feeling feeling the heat growing at her back, trying to keep Papa’s hand even as he couldn’t help slowing and her self-preservation screamed at her Forget him! RUN! and just as she started to accept there was no hope, not for any of them…she heard it. “Stop!”

“What?”

“W-what is it?”

“Gloria a Dios.” Papa bent nearly double, hands on his knees, gasping. “I was wrong, Jessita, your mother never cause me half this much trouble.”

You’ll feel terrible you said that when I get us out of this.

“I don’t think tree-climbing will help, princess.”

“Silencio! Shut up!” Above and beyond the roaring, snapping, exploding fire she could hear another sound. A deeper one. “C’mon, hurry!” She headed west, hoping they would follow.

“Sideways to the fire?” Finley scoffed. “What good does that do?”

He might have a point but he certainly wasn’t helping. “Ay yi yi,” Jessie panted, “what’s the one thing can get us out of this mess?”

“Wings, luv.”

“Me not coming out here in the first place, risk my life for some estúpido quest.”

If Papa had enough air for that, Jessie didn’t mind pushing him faster.

“Water. What I’ve been p-praying for.” Only Jay had the sense God gave a tomatillo.

“Yes!”

Ever the alpha, Finley had bulled ahead despite not knowing where they were going. Now he looked back at her like she was crazy. “Even if we find a stream, dousing ourselves won’t—”

“Ranger Dick! For once in your life shut up and LISTEN!”

They didn’t stop running but they did stop talking and now it was easier to hear, even with the hellish roar of approaching flames.

“Is that—”

“The L-lewis River!”

“Named after the Lewis and Clark Lewis?” Papa, even now the historian.

Jessie thought No even as Finley snapped “For God’s sake, who cares?”

As if feeling their hope, the oncoming maelstrom overtook them even faster now, sweeping down the hill they’d just left behind. Past every tree, over every slight rise Jessie kept frantically hoping to see moonlight reflecting off water, knowing they were cutting it horribly close. God, please. You love Jay at least, right? And Papa? Can they get a miracle and can Finley and I get in on it?

Papa was lagging again. Glancing over she was more alarmed, if possible, at the glassy look in his eyes. “Come on, Papa. Little further, we go for a refreshing swim.”

“But you,” he gasped, “can’t swim.”

“So I get to learn real fast.”

“Was all this,” he panted, “worth it?”

Under the circumstances it was almost funny. “That’s right, old man, use that anger. Just a little further.” She desperately hoped.

Flashlights were no longer necessary; the wildfire made it as bright as noon. They were coughing from the smoke, moving more south than west out of mindless desperation when the trees thinned and—Saints be praised—the river appeared. The glorious, rushing, so-big-she-could-only-just-see-the-other side river that the fire could not cross.

The glorious, rushing, horribly-swollen-thanks-to-heavy-spring-snowfall river that looked like it would kill them as easily as the fire.

“Well,” Finley coughed, “this’ll be fun. Ludwig, you’re with me. Pack stays behind.”

Papa controlled his panting long enough to gasp, “I have that pack longer than you alive.”

“Is it worth dying for?”

“A good point you make.”

“Jay, hope you have a merit badge in Swimming.”

“I can’t swim,” Jessie whisper-moaned. Fine to joke about before, there were full-sized evergreens being swept along by the freight-train water.

Jay shed his pack and pulled hers down her numb, unresisting arms. “You w-won’t have to. Arms around my neck, please don’t choke me,” he led her by the hand towards the riverbank and the twenty-foot drop into the furious chaos, “and we’ll be fine.”

“I can’t swim,” she moaned again.

“You’re really taking the camera?” Finley looked sorry he’d met any of them.

“He’s really taking the lute?” Jay responded.

“It’s a Roosebeck,” Papa snapped, then coughed. “It stays, I stay.”

“I told him if I get clonked in the head by it, they’re both on their own.”

Jay looked over and then back at Finley. “Think we can make the other bank?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“I can’t swim,” Jessie moaned even louder. Every breath was smoke. The fire would be wrapping its arms around them any second now.

Finley shook his head. “Have fun with that one.” He turned to Papa. “Arm around my shoulders and jump on three.”

“I think of great movie while we swim. You never guess.”

“That’s the spirit.” Finley gently but hurriedly pushed Papa towards the edge; that same edge Jay wanted her to get closer to. Papa looked at her and she could see his terror. So many things to say, but while Jessie tried to settle on one, a tree thirty feet away exploded, bark fragments snapping off the back of her head.

Suddenly she and Jay were at the edge. “Camera case is supposedly waterproof, maybe it’ll float. You lose me, grab onto it.”

Jessie remembered a rafting trip from another lifetime. “Should I try to keep my feet downriver?”

He looked amused, shouting over the combined roars of fire and water. “Sure, why not?”

And with his answer she understood how little the chance they would survive this as Papa and Finley jumped into the water and were snatched out of sight. “No, no, no, I can’t.”

 Jay hesitated, and she could see him debate whether he dared push her in and leap after, as the roar of the flames once again overtook the roar of the river, the world was a wall of awful sound—then the decision was made for them as an enormous, flaming grizzly bear burst through the trees.

Their heads snapped around as the crazed, burning monster scrambled on all fours straight for the river which meant straight for them, roaring its head off which they couldn’t hear over the twin howls of fire and water. Even as Jessie dredged up the thought that the hairs she’d found definitely didn’t belong to this animal, she took an instinctive step back which was one too far, and the hand she threw out to grab something, anything, caught Jay in the chest and they both fell into the threatening river.

***

It was only instinct that told her to flail and kick for the surface, and only luck she flailed and kicked in the right direction. When her head broke the water, it was all Jessie could do to choke and cough out some river, get half a breath before the waters closed over her again.

The second time she found air she’d held her breath which was progress, and kicking seemed to be helping so she kept doing that and stayed up a moment longer, long enough to look around frantically and see nobody; fire and fiery grizzly were both gone, which her overstressed brain recognized as a plus but she couldn’t see Jay, either, and then she went under a third time.

It felt easier to let go. 

Stop kicking. Stop struggling. 

The river was as terrifying as the fire but only on the surface; down here in the darkness it seemed so peaceful. Nobody trying to kill her. No muss, no fuss, no coconuss…

She needed at least one more breath to think it over, and weakening arms and legs managed to get her head up one more time. Even as she gulped a last lungful of air, Jessie heard Hero keening for her, saw the dark shape of her love blot out the stars, and remembered she had something to fight for. 

Strength was still failing but there were reserves she hadn’t considered, and even as this extra tank rapidly drained and she knew this time would be the last, gravity had won like always, a hand tangled in her long hair, pulling her up to the surface, and the pain of this gave her an instant of delicious clarity. She saw the ridiculously out of place camera case bobbing along in front of her, and had just strength enough to grab it, digging her cheek into the SONY indents in the dark plastic. With her added weight the case rode dangerously low in the water, but was buoyant enough for one.

Just holding on took everything. After a minute, maybe two, she found strength enough to open one eye and see Jay, treading water next to her as the current swept them along. “Come here often?” She whispered.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” and then he said something she didn’t catch while coughing up more river.

“‘You ok,’ he repeated redundantly?”

“Where there’s life there’s hope. You?”

“Ditto.” He whipped the wet hair out of his eyes, peering downriver. “Can’t stay here forever, though.”

How long could somebody tread water? It was his problem. She needed a nap. Yes. Falling asleep would be lovely.

He must have noticed. “Fall asleep and I’m gonna…grab your ass, Delgado.”

Crude but effective, her irritation snapped her out of it. For a moment. “We’re in trouble, Wolff.”

“I know. Working on it.”

Sparing the energy to look she saw him peering upriver, lips pursed.

“Make for shore?”

“Near one, we’re back in the fire. Far one, too far. But…” and then he looked at her. “You have a good grip?”

“Sure,” she said, hoping she was up for the big plan.

“Good. Keep it.” His legs came up and he swam hard, pushing the camera case while she struggled just to hold on.

He seemed to be headed for one of those full-sized trees the river carried along, and she tried to help with feeble kicks. Then desperately, as dirt-dripping roots slipped past her head, Jessie threw all of her remaining strength in a lunge for the rough bark and, miraculously finding it under her fingers, used strength she didn’t have, from God or Mary or St Bernard of Montjoux to scrabble inch by inch up the slippery trunk to the dry part and then lie gasping on her back staring at the starry morning sky.

Concerned for Jay, when she could summon the energy she lifted her head to look—and praised God to see him lying on his own section of trunk, the camera case cradled by several stiff, dry branches. His hand was pressed against his side. She’d forgotten about his wound. “You okay over there?”

He waved feebly. “Field dressing survived somehow; I think I’ll live. Wanna do a news report?”

Jessie found it in her to laugh. “Soon as I check my makeup.” She put her head back down. A few seconds later Hero flapped to a two-point landing on a gnarled root near her head. “Thank you,” Jessie called softly to her.

“You’re welcome,” Jay responded, and Jessie did not correct him. For her part Hero roused and chirped contentedly.

“Is Papa okay?”

“Ranger Dick’ll take care of him.”

“Okay. Can I sleep now?”

“You prone to sleepwalking?”

“Would I sleep in trees if I was?” Even as the gentle bobbing of her rough mattress and roaring white noise of the river, not to mention utter exhaustion, took her far away Jessie noted something hadn’t been quite right about that conversation. Before she could solve the riddle, she passed out.

***

When she awoke the stars were gone and dawn approaching. After far and away the worst night of her life Jessie was happy to greet the sun. Though she would be doing so with soreness in every tortured muscle in her body. Especially her throat, as the first breath upon awakening prompted a coughing fit that nearly sent her back out. She put a hand over her eyes and moaned.

This was answered with song. “Good morning, good morning, it’s so nice to float with you, good morning, good morning, to you.”

Much as it hurt, she raised her head to glare at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The insufferable grin of the morning person. “What? You’re alive, ain’tcha?”

“Barely.”

“Like you said. Where there’s life, there’s hope.”

“Doesn’t sound like me.” She didn’t see a falcon anywhere.

“Hero flapped off a few minutes ago; think she’s hunting.” Even as he spoke Jessie heard the linen-ripping sound of a stooping falcon and had the joy of watching the drop nearly straight above her. Hero missed the cagey starling she was aiming for with a rawk of frustration.

“You’ll get ‘em next time, my love.” Jessie felt around her own stomach from the inside. Pretty empty, though she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to feed herself even were she not on a floating whitebark pine. “What’s for breakfast?”

Jay made a show of looking around. “Hmm. Bark?”

“Nummy.”

“Guess I should’ve picked a fruit tree, huh?”

Jessie groaned again. “A morning person and a comedian. My life is complete.” Suddenly she realized. “Hey…”

He was really grinning now. 

With serious effort she rolled half-around and propped herself on one arm. “You aren’t stuttering.”

“Took you long enough.”

“Not my best day, Boy Scout. What happened, you leave it behind in your pack?”

“Stupid thing started with a fire; apparently it ended with one. Go figure.”

“Good on you. Silver linings.” Suddenly she remembered her father disappearing into the night. Was he alive? If he was, how would they find each other? Panic, comforting as it might be, wouldn’t solve anything. She took a deep breath instead. “So…we live here now?”

“Seems like the best option for the moment.” He searched her face. “I’ve been keeping an eye out, calling every minute or so. Good chance they’re doing the same thing we are.”

“Waiting for the Lewis to join the Columbia?” She heard the rising panic in her voice despite herself.

“Jessie, we’ll find them. I promise.”

“We end up in the Pacific Ocean, I’m gonna punch you.”

Hunger and aches aside, wasn’t the worst dawn ever. And the decent company improved as Hero landed with her breakfast bat. On second thought, I’m not that hungry.

“Honestly, I think we’re in a pretty good place, overall, you know? The river’s gotta calm down sooner or later, and we’ll find your father and whatshisname, and get back to civilization eventually.” Now that he could talk freely, Jay was quite the chatterbox. “I feel kinda like Huckleberry Finn, lazing down the Missouri. Or was it the Mississippi?”

“Pretty sure it was the Nile.” He wasn’t wrong, though. After serial killers and flaming bears and almost drowning it was lovely to lie on the safe, sturdy raft and not have a care in the world. Besides eventually finding Papa.

If only she could ignore that tiny warning bell in the back of her mind.

“Do wish I’d studied the map more closely,” Jay admitted.

“Because?”

“Well, would be nice to know if this river has any—”

“Shut up.” 

“I just get my words back and you—”

“Seriously, Jay.” Now that he was quiet, she could hear it.

Apparently he could too, as all the blood drained from his face. “How far?”

“Half-mile, maybe?” The sound was very faint, but…

“How big?”

Huh? “How wide is the river? Who cares? You said we couldn’t make the other bank anyway, right?”

Jay sighed. “Not how wide, how tall?”

Oh. That. Jessie winced. “I think…sixty feet?” A six-story fall wasn’t that bad, right? “Any chance we’re not going over?”

His look answered that question.

“Best to just hang out here, then?”

This galvanized the Scout into action. “No. Bad enough not knowing what’s waiting at the bottom without having an Ent tumbling around with us.” He grabbed the camera case and began picking his way along the trunk towards her.

Again with the peril? “How did I get stuck in a godforsaken Indiana Jones movie? You don’t look like Harrison Ford.”

“Neither do you,” Jay pointed out. “Catherine Zeta-Jones, maybe.”

“Really not the time, Jeremy.” The roar, deeper and louder than the river around them, was growing.

“We’ll try that arms around the neck trick again. Don’t knock us off the tree.”

“No promises.” As Jay moved out to the edge of their raft, almost into the water, Jessie put her arms around his neck, concentrating not to choke him.

“This is the second time you’ve put your arms around me.”

“Did I say that it wasn’t the time? I feel like I said it wasn’t the time.”

“Message received and understood.”

“Can’t you say ‘ok’ like a normal person?” Then it clicked. “Are you using the longest possible words just because you can?”     

“Wouldn’t you?” He grinned again. 

“Fine, go crazy, recite something.” Felt like swimming for the other bank would make some sense, but even as Jessie thought this, she knew it was too far. Still too far.

“‘On my honor, I will do my best to do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout law; to help other people at all times; to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.’ And, by the way, ‘A scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent.’”

“Hoo-rah. Sing the National Anthem.”

“You gonna stand up?”

“Nope.”

He broke out in song far too lustily for so early in the morning, any morning, to say nothing of what they were headed for. “‘Oh, Canada, our home and native land-’”

“Wrong anthem and, no offense, you can’t sing.”

“Glad you said ‘no offense.’”

“Favorite television theme.”

“‘When a coupla guys, who were up to no good, started makin’ trouble in my neighborhood. I got in one little fight and my moms got scared, she said—’”

She couldn’t not join him. “‘You’re moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air!’”

The roar had cranked up and as she stared downstream, about a quarter-mile, the rising sun nicely outlined the edge of the falls.

“Sixty feet down,” Jay muttered to himself. Then, louder, “I push off in three.”

“If we survive, I owe you a kiss.”

“Thanks for the incentive, Monita. One, two, three!”

They half-jumped, half-fell into the chilly water, Jay pushing and then swimming one-handed away from their tree, case still in hand. Jessie gripped hard and quietly did the only helpful thing she could think of. “Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo, santificado sen tu Nombre…” 

She didn’t want to see it coming. She couldn’t look away. “venga a nosotros tu reino…” 

How varied the roars in nature. Different from the swollen river, different from the raging fire, the throbbing cascade of falling water drowned out her own voice in her ears. “Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo…” Over the tumult Jessie thought she heard someone calling her name, then the sharp edge of the world loomed up and they went over it.

Pounding, rumbling water and falling, falling, falling…and then a terrific slap, hitting water like concrete and it was dark and she tumbled with no idea which way was up nor where Jeremy was and then she didn’t know anything at all.

***