Chase

Six

Jeff was heading down towards the lake, thinking maybe he could sneak away for a few minutes in his boat, when he heard a woman shouting, “Fire!” That was followed quickly by a man yelling, “Oh, no! Oh, no!”

All the commotion sounded like it was coming from around cabins Four or Five. He started running in that direction. When he came around to the side of the cabins, he saw what was going on.

The couple renting Cabin Four had set up a barbecue on a picnic table just under the overhanging branches of a big pine tree. There were flames shooting three feet into the air, licking at the branches. Both the man and the woman were standing several feet back, frozen, unsure what to do.

Jeff knew one thing was for sure. Something had to be done quickly, because once those flames caught those pine needles, that tree would go up in a flash. And once it was on fire, how many seconds would it take for it to spread to other, nearby trees and the cabin itself? The whole camp could be burned to the ground before the closest fire department — which was miles away in Canfield — could get here.

Jeff’s mind raced. He glanced at the lake, which was only about thirty feet away. There was a whole lot of water there. The question was, how would he get it to the barbecue?

Jeff’s boat had a bailing can in it. An old coffee can, like his aunt had put into all the rental boats. One large can of water might be enough to douse that barbecue. Jeff ran to the dock, jumped into the boat, grabbed the can, dipped it into the lake and filled it to the brim. Then he leapt back onto the dock and started running towards the flames.

And promptly tripped over his own feet.

Jeff hit the ground hard, the coffee can slipping from his hand, the water spilling out.

The flames were inches from the pine branch. Jeff chastised himself for his clumsiness and stupidity. He was going to have to grab the empty can, run back to the lake, fill it a second time, and—

“Stand back!”

It was Mr. Green, the man who rented Cabin Eight for the entire summer. In his hand was a red fire extinguisher. Not as big as one you might find in a school hallway behind glass, but big enough. The couple took several steps back as Mr. Green raised the extinguisher, pointed it at the out-of-control barbecue, and buried it in foam with a loud Froosshhh!

The flames vanished instantly.

Jeff got to his feet as the woman shouted at Mr. Green, “You just put chemicals all over our hot dogs!”

That made Jeff crazy. Before Mr. Green could say anything, Jeff unloaded with, “You nearly set that tree on fire! Are you people nuts? You set up a barbecue under a tree?” The couple looked at Jeff, stunned that a kid would talk to them that way.

The man said, “We’re going to have a word with your aunt, young man. You talk to us like that, we’ve got a good mind not to come here ever again!”

“Good!” Jeff said. “That means our camp might not burn to the ground!”

“Hey,” Mr. Green said, gently putting a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. To the couple, he said, “I think now that everything’s under control, we can all go back to what we were doing. Sorry about those hot dogs. I might have a few extra in my fridge.”

The couple grumbled something about having more wieners of their own. The woman went back into the cabin while the man dragged the table out from under the tree.

Mr. Green said to Jeff, “You okay?”

“I guess.”

“Come join me on the porch.”

He led Jeff to his cabin, opened the spring-loaded screen door, and pointed to a folding aluminum chair with fraying canvas webbing. “Sit.”

Jeff sat.

“You’re way too young for me to offer you a beer. How about a Coke?”

Jeff said he’d like that, thanks. He was feeling kind of shaky. He didn’t yell at grown-ups very often.

Mr. Green came back out of the cabin with a can of pop and a bottle of beer. The man was probably in his sixties, and from what Jeff knew, was a retired construction worker whose wife had died a few years ago. He was enjoying his summer here, fishing and reading books and just taking it easy. He was a short, stocky man, with a few wisps of hair around the side of his head, and he wore glasses with thin, wire frames.

“You okay?” he asked, sitting next to Jeff in another folding chair.

“I guess.” The truth was — and he was embarrassed to be feeling this way — he felt like he was going to cry.

“If those people rat you out to your aunt, I’ll tell her what really happened,” he said. “Those two, putting a barbecue under a tree — they’re dumb as a pair of old boots.”

Jeff sniffed. “Thanks, Mr. Green.”

“How many times this summer have I told you to call me Harry?”

“My aunt says it’s disrespectful because I’m a kid and you’re, well, you’re sort of old.”

“Well, your aunt ain’t here right now, so you call me Harry.”

Jeff smiled. “Okay... Harry. Thanks for the Coke, and for putting out the fire. I might have been able to do it if I hadn’t tripped on my own stupid feet.”

“Good thing I keep an extinguisher in my truck. I was sitting on the porch here, reading my John Grisham book, when I saw that idiot putting half a can of lighter fluid on that thing and then poof! Up it went. I ran to my truck about the same time you showed up.”

Jeff nodded. He was feeling a lump in his throat.

“You okay, son?” Harry asked.

“It’s just... it’s, it’s... ”

“You know what I think? I think you’re something.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean, here you are, just a kid, helping your aunt run this place. Not having — you know — a mom and dad any more. That was a terrible thing, them dying in a plane crash and all.”

Jeff looked at him. “You know about that?”

“Your aunt told me.”

“Oh,” he said.

“That’s a pretty tough thing to go through. That’s why I think you’re something. I don’t know that I could have dealt with all this when I was your age. How old are you, anyway?”

Jeff wasn’t going to lie to Harry Green the way he had tried with Emily. “Twelve.”

“Ha!” he said. “The way I seen you driving around in your aunt’s truck, I figured you might be a bit older, but not old enough to be driving legally. You’re a good driver.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve got a son, you know,” he said. “But he’s all grown up, got kids of his own now. Lives clear across the country. Haven’t seen him in years.” His eyes softened. “When he was your age, we did lots of things together.”

Harry sat back in his chair and drank his beer. “I know I’ve asked you before, but you should come fishing with me some time. But you don’t care much for it, do you?”

“Not really,” Jeff said. “It’s boring, just sitting in a boat all day.”

Harry laughed. “I suppose. But when you’re an old guy like me, boring can be kind of nice. Well, if you ever change your mind and want to come out with me one day before the end of summer, you just let me know.”

“Okay.” Even though Jeff didn’t care about fishing, he thought hanging out with Harry Green might be nice. It would be good having someone like him to talk to. Jeff missed both his parents, but he missed them in different ways. He had liked to talk to his mom when he had trouble with his friends, or needed advice about school. With his father, it was more guy stuff. Cars and action movies and baseball and hockey. Things his mom wasn’t as interested in. Well, except hockey. His mom had loved hockey. She’d had an uncle who’d once played for Boston. Maybe, Jeff thought, if he went fishing with Harry, if he got to know him a bit, they could talk about those kinds of things, so that it didn’t get so boring waiting for a fish to bite the hook.

“You want something to eat?” Harry asked. “I got some of the sticky buns from that bakery in town.”

“No, thank you. I better go. I was going to go for a boat ride, but I don’t think there’s time now. I’ve got to cut some grass.”

Harry Green nodded. “Your aunt, she works you hard.”

“I guess.”

“It may seem like she’s being mean to you, but she’s making you tough. You need to be tough in this world.”

“I guess.”

“You guess, you guess, you guess.” He pointed his finger into Jeff’s chest, gave it a nudge. “You have to know.”

“Know what?”

“You have to know that you are being the best that you can be. That you’re living up to your potential.”

“Okay.”

Harry Green grinned and rubbed the top of his head, mussing the boy’s hair. “Go on with you, then. You ever need help with anything, you just come get me.” He smiled. “I’m gonna keep my eye on you.”