Wildfire!

1
Ben took one more biscuit, slathered it with Goomby's wild-orange marmalade, and stuffed it into his mouth. His grandparents had already finished breakfast. Goomby, his great-grandmother, had eaten just a few quick bites, and was through. Smiling, she asked Ben, "Want more?"
He shook his head. They put all the dishes in the sink and joined Grandpa in the living room.
Grandpa was watching the TV news. The pictures on the screen were scary. They showed orange and red flames crackling through trees, torching giant pines as though they were toothpicks. The weather had been very hot and dry for weeks. Wildfires were burning all over Florida. New ones blazed up every day.
"These are south of here, but they're in our forest," Grandpa said.
"How far?" Goomby asked.
"Down around Worthington," Grandpa answered his mother. "Far enough to be safe."
"This time. For now," Goomby answered.
"Yes. For now." Grandpa's voice was strong and reassuring, but his lean tanned face showed his worry. They all knew how sparks could travel in the air, starting a new fire someplace else.
Their little village of Bending Creek had no fire department of its own. There had not been a bad fire here for years, but if there were, they would have to depend on firefighters coming from Carville, the nearest big town. That was thirty miles away.
"More coffee?" Goomby asked her son. Grandma had already gone to her waitress job at the Happy Day Café.
"No, gotta get to work. Full crew coming in today."He ruffled Ben's hair. "Be good, you two."
Goomby grinned. "Maybe. Maybe not."
Grandpa laughed. He picked up the lunch she had packed for him and left for his job at the sawmill.
Goomby turned off the TV and bustled away to wash the breakfast dishes. Ben joined her in the kitchen.
Out the window, the familiar woods looked strange and a little frightening. Even though the fires were far away, the smoke had spread here, gathering in tall pines and oaks and vines and scrub palmettos, blurring all the forest greens.
"How about doing an errand for me in town?" Goomby asked Ben. "I need a couple more things for tomorrow."
Tomorrow was the Fourth of July. Goomby always prepared a lot of food for the holiday.
Ben was glad to help her. His parents had been killed in a car crash six years ago, when he was four years old.
Ben and his parents had lived in another townthen. He hadn't known his grandparents and Goomby very well.
He had a confused memory of relatives coming to the house, trying to decide what would happen to him. Then Goomby had said, "Ben belongs to us. He's coming home with us."
Others in the family had argued that this might make too much work for her. But she always answered, "I'm sixty-eight, not a hundred and ten. And he's our boy."
Ben never forgot that. "He's our boy." His sorrow and fear had begun to lift in that moment.
Grandma and Grandpa had agreed, of course. But in Ben's heart it had really been Goomby's decision. She had given him this home and this life.
He told her, "I'll do your errands right now, if you want."
"Oh, good." She gave him some money and a list.
Cornmeal, beans, molasses, red cabbage and white cabbage for two-color coleslaw, one ripe avocado.Ben knew he could get all this in Mr. Meehan's grocery store. Goomby also wanted two tiny lamps for a dollhouse she was making for a church sale. He would have to go to Cindy's Craft Shop for those.
"Okay." He went off, whistling.
He passed the American flag Grandpa had put on the porch in honor of the Fourth of July. There were flags on all the neighbors' porches, too. They made patches of bright color on the little houses along the dusty road.
Ben loved the Fourth. Tomorrow there would be an all-day celebration in Bending Creek Park --a parade, then the picnic, then games and contests and a speech by Mayor Jolson. It was the same speech every year, about how this was a day to remember, the day America became a free country. Then a band concert and more eating.
Usually the day ended with fireworks over the lake. Grandpa had bought a box a month ago so he and Ben could set off some just for fun, before the official display. But fireworks were banned thisyear because of the fire danger. Still, there would be plenty of other things to do.
At the grocery, Mr. Meehan weighed out cornmeal and beans. He chose a perfect avocado. He wedged in a jar of molasses. With the two cabbages, the food almost filled up a big brown paper bag.
"Got room in there for a few caramels?" he asked Ben.
"Sure do!" Ben said eagerly. Mr. Meehan threw them in without charge.
Ben thanked him and left the grocery. He turned onto a side road for Cindy's Craft Shop, happy about the caramels.
As he came around the corner, he saw Elliot Lorton outside Cindy's. Elliot called to him, "Hi, Ben! How you folks doing, off there in the backwoods?" He sounded friendly, but Ben heard an edge of scorn in his voice.
Ben's spirits sank. Elliot and his parents had recently moved to Bending Creek from a northern city. Elliot seemed to think his city ways made him better than the people of Bending Creek--and especially better than Ben, who was, as Elliot kept reminding him, only a boy living on a dirt road in the backwoods.
Ben hurried into Cindy's shop without responding and tried to slam the door shut, but Elliot followed right behind him.
Now, Ben realized, he would have to buy two tiny lamps. That made him feel foolish. He hoped Elliot wouldn't notice what he was buying.
"Why, hello, Ben," Cindy said cordially from behind the counter. She had a loud voice. "Looking for something for the dollhouse?"
Text copyright © 2004 by Elizabeth Starr Hill