Ruby Rose
Location: Canadian Prairies
Spring is usually looked upon as a time of renewal, but there are always one or two experiences that haunt one, like in my story below, "The Wild Fire," written in 1994, based on a true episode involving the burning of a picnic table by drinking youngsters at a camping site in the 1970s...
In the late spring of 1970, a mother and her two small daughters were travelling by car from Ontario to Alberta to join her husband, a military man, posted to the Base near Penhold, a small village about twenty miles south of Red Deer, Alberta. The husband had went ahead in order to acquire suitable accommodations for his family. The mother had decided to camp along the way thus turning the long trek across the country into a vacation for her children.
Reaching the outskirts of a small town in Alberta, the mother told her daughters to keep an eye out for an ideal spot to camp that night. And they did--a delightful little valley on the shore of a river. It was obviously a local camping area recently built, as the site sported one gazebo with built-in brick fireplace and a pile of freshly cut wood stacked ready to burn, as well as one brand new picnic table. There was also one tap in place connected to a pipe sticking out of the ground making fresh water easily accessible. "Oh, what a perfect place this is," said the mother. "And so peaceful, too..." They unloaded the car and set up their tent.
The children proceeded to race around the site checking out the area. To their delight, they discovered hundreds of tiny young frogs hopping all over the shore. Then, as they were picking some wild flowers for their mother, the daughters yelled: "Mom, there must be a gum bush here--we can smell mint." Upon checking, the mother found the aromatic herb--a spearmint plant--with its mint leaves. And she told her daughters how when she was a child, she would chew a leaf or two for the flavour. And they did so as well. The mother also told them of how the ancient Assyrian people would use mint leaves in their rituals to the fire gods. The mother then agreed to allow her daughters to sprinkle a few leaves on their small campfire for protection during the night. Then, she put out their campfire and they all proceeded into the tent. They wanted to leave early in the morning so had to get to sleep early as well.
It was the end of the school year and young people were partying everywhere. Suddenly, as the mother tucked in her children into their sleeping bags, there were sounds of screeching tires and boisterousness in the air. She peeked out of the tent and saw two pick-up trucks filled with teenage boys screeching to a halt about two hundred yards away from them. They wanted to party and proceeded to unload several cases of beer into the gazebo.
As the sun set and the air chilled, the young people decided to make a bonfire. They burned anything and everything to keep their fire going. They enjoyed the sight of the fire as it represented power to them.
Meanwhile the young mother--wary of a long and rowdy night--read to her daughters trying to get them to fall asleep. But sleep would not come easily that night for anyone. So they simply lay there, listening and on guard... always.
After many hours of drinking, there was an element of excitability amongst the young people. The mother could hear it in their voices and feel it in the air.
They had run out of wood to burn. Suddenly, a voice piped up: "Let's burn the picnic table!" The fever spread all around the group and you could hear a sing-song: "Yes, yes, let's do it, let's burn the picnic table." And they did. What began as a flickering flame as they enkindled the picnic table suddenly started to blaze violently with a volcanic roar. The flames were alive and seemingly reaching for the sky. It was a wild fire--out of control, and amidst just enough wind to keep the flames ignited. The fire swirled and danced in the night air.
The tent of the small family was illumined as if they had a lantern on. The mother and her daughters huddled tightly together frozen with fear--feeling as if on the brink of danger as they were exposed to the ominous sounds and smell of the wild fire. The mother silently prayed for them to be spared and also that the young people could be stopped and made to realize the error of their actions.
Then, there were the sounds of anxious voices--now sober; and of coughing as the smoke choked lungs; and the scurrying of feet as the boys tried to damper their fire with water from the river but to no avail. The fire raged on fuelled by the oily sap seeping from the new wood of the picnic table. It could not be quenched. The joviality was now gone to be replaced by a surge of fear caused by the uncontrollable power of the wild fire. Together in desperation, the boys then said: "Let's get the hell out of here!" And they did. Hopping in their trucks and on screeching wheels, they drove off into the night--never giving a passing thought to the young family that was camped near them.
There was now only the sound of the crackling fire which burnt and smouldered all night long. The huge glow in the night was both fascinating and frightening. The tent was distanced far enough from the hungry flames to be safe but the burning nightmare would linger within the mother and her small daughters for a long time.
The next morning, they slipped out of their tent and tentatively approached the bonfire site. They found the charred black skeleton of the picnic table still slightly smouldering. The strong smell of burnt wood was hanging in the air. The earth was blackened all around the cinder of the table. The mother and daughters quickly returned to their tent to close it up. Then they noticed that their tent was stained by the soot that had blown in the wind. (Yet, they had been protected somehow.) They gathered up their belongings, loaded up the car and vacated the area. The mother then drove directly towards the small town where her husband waited to greet them. Arriving two hours later, with mild shock waves reverberating through their bodies, the mother related the happenings to her husband who in turn notified the local authorities. It transpired that no one saw the red ominous glow in the sky throughout the night; no one smelled or tasted the acrid air; no one heard the screeching of the tires or the partying. But they would "look into it". The truth of the matter was, all the youngsters involved were well-known local boys and people tended to look the other way--justifying their actions under: "Boys will be boys."
Two weeks after the fire, in the late evening, a group of young boys had gathered in the farm-yard of a local farmer. They were bored and intent on mischief once more, thus, congregated to see for themselves the unusual phenomenon that was the talk of the town. The town people in general were superstitious and they feared the unknown. A giant fennel plant had suddenly sprouted in the field--attaining a height of fifteen feet.
The boys arrived with axes in hand ready to destroy...once more. The thought had crossed their minds to burn the stalk but the taste of fear from their uncontrollable fire of two weeks prior, was still within them. As they approached, they saw a tall, stout plant with finely dissected leaves and yellow flowers. "Now what is so scary about that?" they asked amongst themselves. "Its just a weed! Let's get rid of it," they said. And the ring-leader raised his axe and swung very hard. Nothing happened. The outside bark of the plant was very hard. Then another boy and another and another swung their axes at the plant--until they had all participated. Finally, they felled the giant fennel plant. As they stood around it, they decided to hack it into pieces.
Little did they know that the stalk contained a tinder-like core within--in which a heavenly spark of fire from the sun--a gift from the god Prometheus, perhaps--was smouldering, waiting...ready to ignite. And it did. All it took was one small spark from the next swipe of the axes.
The ten young boys stood mesmerized as spitting tongues of flame leapt at each and everyone one of them--absorbing them totally. Guilty as charged...
The next morning, as the farmer walked out to his field with intent of gazing once more on the giant plant, he was stunned to see that it had disappeared as it had arrived...without warning. Then he noticed a faint sweet minty smell in the air and wondered...
"The Wild Fire"
by Ruby Rose
It is written that the Titan god, Prometheus, an accomplished space traveller had ventured from the heavens to earth carrying with him the divine element of fire with its magical properties to share with the human race. And for centuries, fire was worshipped. It was also believed that fire had the magical power to decide guilt or innocence...as a group of young boys were soon to discover.by Ruby Rose
In the late spring of 1970, a mother and her two small daughters were travelling by car from Ontario to Alberta to join her husband, a military man, posted to the Base near Penhold, a small village about twenty miles south of Red Deer, Alberta. The husband had went ahead in order to acquire suitable accommodations for his family. The mother had decided to camp along the way thus turning the long trek across the country into a vacation for her children.
Reaching the outskirts of a small town in Alberta, the mother told her daughters to keep an eye out for an ideal spot to camp that night. And they did--a delightful little valley on the shore of a river. It was obviously a local camping area recently built, as the site sported one gazebo with built-in brick fireplace and a pile of freshly cut wood stacked ready to burn, as well as one brand new picnic table. There was also one tap in place connected to a pipe sticking out of the ground making fresh water easily accessible. "Oh, what a perfect place this is," said the mother. "And so peaceful, too..." They unloaded the car and set up their tent.
The children proceeded to race around the site checking out the area. To their delight, they discovered hundreds of tiny young frogs hopping all over the shore. Then, as they were picking some wild flowers for their mother, the daughters yelled: "Mom, there must be a gum bush here--we can smell mint." Upon checking, the mother found the aromatic herb--a spearmint plant--with its mint leaves. And she told her daughters how when she was a child, she would chew a leaf or two for the flavour. And they did so as well. The mother also told them of how the ancient Assyrian people would use mint leaves in their rituals to the fire gods. The mother then agreed to allow her daughters to sprinkle a few leaves on their small campfire for protection during the night. Then, she put out their campfire and they all proceeded into the tent. They wanted to leave early in the morning so had to get to sleep early as well.
It was the end of the school year and young people were partying everywhere. Suddenly, as the mother tucked in her children into their sleeping bags, there were sounds of screeching tires and boisterousness in the air. She peeked out of the tent and saw two pick-up trucks filled with teenage boys screeching to a halt about two hundred yards away from them. They wanted to party and proceeded to unload several cases of beer into the gazebo.
As the sun set and the air chilled, the young people decided to make a bonfire. They burned anything and everything to keep their fire going. They enjoyed the sight of the fire as it represented power to them.
Meanwhile the young mother--wary of a long and rowdy night--read to her daughters trying to get them to fall asleep. But sleep would not come easily that night for anyone. So they simply lay there, listening and on guard... always.
After many hours of drinking, there was an element of excitability amongst the young people. The mother could hear it in their voices and feel it in the air.
They had run out of wood to burn. Suddenly, a voice piped up: "Let's burn the picnic table!" The fever spread all around the group and you could hear a sing-song: "Yes, yes, let's do it, let's burn the picnic table." And they did. What began as a flickering flame as they enkindled the picnic table suddenly started to blaze violently with a volcanic roar. The flames were alive and seemingly reaching for the sky. It was a wild fire--out of control, and amidst just enough wind to keep the flames ignited. The fire swirled and danced in the night air.
The tent of the small family was illumined as if they had a lantern on. The mother and her daughters huddled tightly together frozen with fear--feeling as if on the brink of danger as they were exposed to the ominous sounds and smell of the wild fire. The mother silently prayed for them to be spared and also that the young people could be stopped and made to realize the error of their actions.
Then, there were the sounds of anxious voices--now sober; and of coughing as the smoke choked lungs; and the scurrying of feet as the boys tried to damper their fire with water from the river but to no avail. The fire raged on fuelled by the oily sap seeping from the new wood of the picnic table. It could not be quenched. The joviality was now gone to be replaced by a surge of fear caused by the uncontrollable power of the wild fire. Together in desperation, the boys then said: "Let's get the hell out of here!" And they did. Hopping in their trucks and on screeching wheels, they drove off into the night--never giving a passing thought to the young family that was camped near them.
There was now only the sound of the crackling fire which burnt and smouldered all night long. The huge glow in the night was both fascinating and frightening. The tent was distanced far enough from the hungry flames to be safe but the burning nightmare would linger within the mother and her small daughters for a long time.
The next morning, they slipped out of their tent and tentatively approached the bonfire site. They found the charred black skeleton of the picnic table still slightly smouldering. The strong smell of burnt wood was hanging in the air. The earth was blackened all around the cinder of the table. The mother and daughters quickly returned to their tent to close it up. Then they noticed that their tent was stained by the soot that had blown in the wind. (Yet, they had been protected somehow.) They gathered up their belongings, loaded up the car and vacated the area. The mother then drove directly towards the small town where her husband waited to greet them. Arriving two hours later, with mild shock waves reverberating through their bodies, the mother related the happenings to her husband who in turn notified the local authorities. It transpired that no one saw the red ominous glow in the sky throughout the night; no one smelled or tasted the acrid air; no one heard the screeching of the tires or the partying. But they would "look into it". The truth of the matter was, all the youngsters involved were well-known local boys and people tended to look the other way--justifying their actions under: "Boys will be boys."
Two weeks after the fire, in the late evening, a group of young boys had gathered in the farm-yard of a local farmer. They were bored and intent on mischief once more, thus, congregated to see for themselves the unusual phenomenon that was the talk of the town. The town people in general were superstitious and they feared the unknown. A giant fennel plant had suddenly sprouted in the field--attaining a height of fifteen feet.
The boys arrived with axes in hand ready to destroy...once more. The thought had crossed their minds to burn the stalk but the taste of fear from their uncontrollable fire of two weeks prior, was still within them. As they approached, they saw a tall, stout plant with finely dissected leaves and yellow flowers. "Now what is so scary about that?" they asked amongst themselves. "Its just a weed! Let's get rid of it," they said. And the ring-leader raised his axe and swung very hard. Nothing happened. The outside bark of the plant was very hard. Then another boy and another and another swung their axes at the plant--until they had all participated. Finally, they felled the giant fennel plant. As they stood around it, they decided to hack it into pieces.
Little did they know that the stalk contained a tinder-like core within--in which a heavenly spark of fire from the sun--a gift from the god Prometheus, perhaps--was smouldering, waiting...ready to ignite. And it did. All it took was one small spark from the next swipe of the axes.
The ten young boys stood mesmerized as spitting tongues of flame leapt at each and everyone one of them--absorbing them totally. Guilty as charged...
The next morning, as the farmer walked out to his field with intent of gazing once more on the giant plant, he was stunned to see that it had disappeared as it had arrived...without warning. Then he noticed a faint sweet minty smell in the air and wondered...
