There Was Fire

By Daniel Bradley (this story is also posted on my profile at medium.com)

This story was originally published on Medium

Ty kept blowing on it, little sparks rising from the shouldering kindling as it licked the sticks, each growing in thickness in a small pyramid he crafted to be the night’s campfire.

”You got it bro?” Asked Damien who hadn’t done anything but bring some wet crap out of the woods. Dusk had sucked the light away already, and apparently all of the man’s energy. But whatever, Ty was used to doing all the work anyway.

”Yeah, I got it,” Ty answered as the fire climbed up the small sticks and stained the top ones black.

”Perfect.” Damien popped the first bag of Doritos open. Cool Ranch slid itself into the smell of smoke and desert. The sound of his chewing perked Ty’s sense of hunger. He hadn’t eaten since they’d stopped at a paint-chipped McDonald’s in the afternoon. “Chips?” Damien held out the bag.

Ty plopped himself onto his camp stool. They’d packed heavy for a trip like this, but they’re goal was only a few miles a day. Lake to lake in the high Uintah’s. First stop, Island Lake, and no one around. “Nah, man, I want some stew.”

”Suit yourself.”

A few planets popped out of their blue hiding places overhead, just a couple of the only pieces of Ty’s night that weren’t burning.

”Hey, how are you, man.”

“I’m fine,” Ty dismissed.

“Spill it,” said Damien.

Ty burned his finger on the licking flames as he set up the stand where his pan was going. He sucked on his finger, feeling the cells die one at a time in the reaction from the heat. This one would blister.

“She wasn’t for you, brother,” Damien chirped.

Somewhere nearby, a cricket started to saw its own leg off, blasting its need for a mate into the night air worse than punk rock in a chapel. Ty chucked a rock into the trees. He must’ve scared it because the tiny horn-trumpet stopped its noise.

“Come on, man,” said Damien from behind another cornchip mouthful. “We came out here to forget about girls, remember?”

The fire popped and the stew shuddered.

Ty huffed.

More stars ignited in the cool evening drape, each of them one more spot of flame. If the earth were a suiter, she would have been the talk of the party, because there were hundreds of them, stars interested in her green curves and mountain lashes. They shouldn’t have come out. It would be better for each party to stay away, back turned to the things of beauty in the universe, the women that teased pleasant horizon.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ty sighed, kicking his legs out, sole to the flames.

Damien chuckled, his eyes glowing with sweet ember and righteous languor. “They say there’s more fish in the sea. That isn’t the whole picture, is it? Nah, there’s always one more poor sucker to burn.”

The stew started to boil. Ty let it, for the moment, enjoy its time so alive. “Here’s to the suckers.”