Page 101 of Ignite

Seemingly the only person not in a hurry, I waited for the other panicked shoppers to push their way through the checkout before placing my stash of two-minute noodles and cherry-flavored soda next to the register. I hated cherry-flavored anything, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. As for the two-minute noodles, I hoped like hell I had a piece of steak in my small freezer that I could stir-fry and pretend it was a meal.

“Good for business?” I looked up and tried to make eye contact with the owner, but my joke fell flatter than a sheet of paper. The owner, who usually greeted me with random facts about herbal teas that I could share with Rylee, just looked up at me and snarled. I tried to recover, saying, “Thought I would pick up one of the ready-made meals, but you’re all sold out.”

“Just get what you came in here for and get out.”

“Bro, I didn’t mean anything …”

“The smart tourists have already left town. How about you join them.”

“I live here.” And I would join up as soon as I found an internet connection.

“Well, locals are bunkering down and as soon as you leave, I’m closing up and going to the Emergency Response Centre.” He looked at me with a coldness I was starting to recognize. The people walking past me in the street today hadn’t smiled, they’d looked at me in my civilian clothes and had judged my lack of uniform. “It’s about time you decided if you’re playing for the home team, or not.”

“I am.” My voice lacked conviction, but that came out of decades of watching my father put it all on the line, for nothing. “I will. I didn’t think it would get this bad.”

“They never do.” The owner escorted me out the door. “But now that you know, what are you gonna do about it?”

And that was the million-dollar question.

This time, as I walked back up the street towards my ute and the pub, I didn’t look to make eye contact with anyone. I didn’t want to see their disappointment or disgust. I didn’t want them to see me until I could shove my stupid fucking firefighting uniform at them.

Assuming, rightly, that the pub would be the last place to close on a day like today, I dropped in for a counter meal and a sense of belonging.

I wanted to feel wrapped in the warmth of the community and in my limited experience, all roads led to the pub. Old Man Hobbs welcomed all, turned away no one, and had all the good qualities of my father. The thought struck me, people like Rylee and her father, Old Man Hobbs, Reece, and Felicity—they all had the qualities of my father. But instead of being used and pushed aside—like my father—they had become the integral foundation of Meringa. Maybe, it hadn’t been that my father had been stupid for caring, but that the people who used him were the assholes.

Why hadn’t I thought like that before? My mother had tried to make me understand, but now it was too late.

Too late for my parents to forgive me, but not too late for Meringa.

New casual staff greeted me as a stranger, and I missed having my preferred beer poured before having to decide from the menu. I ordered my usual steak sandwich with a side of fries and changed things up with a cider. With no one familiar to talk to, I opened up my phone and automatically searched for the NSW Rural Fire Service. I still couldn’t see myself going out on jobs and holding a hose, but maybe they needed a fitness coach? I could wrap that sort of volunteering gig around my football coaching.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Double fuckety damns and fuck.

I sighed and had to explain to Freya that she’d got my order right, but I’d got the timing all wrong.

“Sure, whatever.” Where were her usualsure, hon, or flirty eyes? Had I become invisible, or just irrelevant?

Looking back at my phone, just in case the screen had changed in the last thirty seconds, I realized I’d become all of the above—invisible and irrelevant. You could add irresponsible, irrational, and fucked-up stubborn-ass stupid to the mix and it wouldn’t even come close to describing my lack of character.

There was nothing like finding out it was too late to volunteer for the current season for it to be the only thing that mattered. Apparently, it wasn’t as easy as rocking up and announcing I’d finally decided to volunteer and Meringa would open its arms and welcome me like the prodigal son they never had. There was a whole application, interview, induction, and training process. It would take months.

I didn’t have months. The fire was hitting us today.

Them, not me. The selfish voice challenged me to stop being stupid. The fire might be heading towards the town, but it didn’t mean I had to be here when it arrived.

I could leave.

Was I really committed to the town?

Maybe.

Was I really committed to Rylee?

I was one hundred percent committed to finding out if she felt we deserved a real chance.