Tea Fire

I called him, "There's a big fire in the canyon, will you come over?"
He said, "Yeah, I can't see it from here. I'm on my way."
Flames leaping
from where I was
leaping from across the canyon
taller than me, wind rising them higher
higher and spreading over, into the canyon
hungry
Fear creaping into my breathing
If they were that tall, how tall were they?
they must be 70 ft. high flames with wind blowing across them
later, on the news, they were that tall
watching, helpless, waiting for him to come
I heard his voice first, "Where is she?" he asked
he slid open the glass door, into wind and backyard

walking up steep stone steps to where I was frozen
glued to the flames, worrying
my friends were up there in that canyon
He reached me, circled his arms about my waist
even though we were friends, it felt warm, good, safe
we watched in silence for a moment
"I'd better go," he said, nervously.
"What?" I asked, shocked
"I didn't know it was so close..." he said calmly, "I might need to evacuate."
I was shocked, instead of the warmth of his arms holding me safe,
instead of relief, I saw him heading toward those flames,
flames leaping stories high
I couldn't let him go alone. I had to help,
yet, fear and wanting safety, away from flames, overpowering
I saw myself waiting, crazy with worry,
it would be worse, here, safe, terrified
"I'm coming with you," I said with conviction.
"Let's go," he replied. Immediate. No hesitation.
I called my girlfriend. "We're evacuating now," she shouted into the phone. Click.
At least she was going to be safe...I hope
We got flashlight batteries at 711. It was eerie.

We got to his place. Thick with smoke, like you couldn't breathe.
The neighbors were already loading their cars.
I watched neighbors scurry to the top of the driveway,
converge, and talk, looking for the fire
you couldn't see it yet, you could smell it
it was on everyone, thick and heavy
burning at your lungs
sheriffs drove through, yelling through their bull horn
"This is a mandatory evacuation."
Some of the neighbors were old,
"Don't ask me," she said in her thick Italian.
"I woke up, you have to leave, they told me, so I'm leaving."
we went back inside
"We have to take the guitar," I said, unplugging it.
"These are just things. They're replaceable," he said.
"Let's just get you out of here."
I felt a little better, feeling valuable.
He wanted the nicknacks,
the little blue smurf his ex had given him in Spain
I carried, carefully to the car, porcelain from Prague
all of his travels, memories in little tiny things.
The sheriff drove by yelling out of a bullhorn.
"This is a mandatory evacuation. You need to evacuate now."
They drove through. Talked to people. Kept driving.
I was so nervous.
"This is so silly," he said.
"It feels weird, to move everything out and then
have to move it back in...
that would be the best of all outcomes, though."
We got back to my parents late that night, the car filled with his stuff.
He woke up early the next morning and drove over to check on things.
The next day I was told I had the day off. I was exhausted.

A few days later, we hauled all his stuff back in.
Rehung the paintings,
instruments from Jamaica back on the wall...
This was the best plausible outcome,
being able to move back in a few days later.
"It seems kind of silly, moving out, moving back in," he said.
200 homes burnt in the Tea Fire
It's been months now,
my girlfriend is living in a hotel with 3 boys and a dog.
3 boys who desperately need a home and have no money.
The insurance has refused to pay the hotel bill...
every day she drags her feet across the lobby,
embarrassed she can't pay the bill.
I worry. I try to take her son out on the weekends...
I try to make him happy in a world that has
turned instantly upside down...
if I had the money I would give it to her...
but I don't so, I give her my time.