Fire Watchers

"Pepe looked suspiciously back every minute or so, and his eyes sought the tops of the ridges ahead. Once, on a white barren spur, he saw a black figure for a moment; but he looked quickly away, for it was one of the dark watchers. No one knew who the watchers were, nor where they lived, but it was better to ignore them and never to show interest in them. They did not bother one who stayed on the trail and minded his own business."

- 'Flight' by John Steinbeck

Transcript

The Cremation of Sam McGee, By Robert W. Service

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

      By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

      That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

      But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

      I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.

Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.

He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;

Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.

Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.

If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;

It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,

And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,

He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess;

And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan:

"It's the cursèd cold, and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.

Yet 'tain't being dead—it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;

So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."

A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;

And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.

He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;

And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,

With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;

It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn and brains,

But you promised true, and it's up to you to cremate those last remains."

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.

In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.

In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,

Howled out their woes to the homeless snows— O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;

And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;

The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;

And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;

It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice May."

And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;

Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-eum."

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;

Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;

The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;

And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;

And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.

It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why;

And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;

But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;

I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside.

I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; ... then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;

And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: "Please close that door.

It's fine in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm—

Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

      By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

      That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

      But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

      I cremated Sam McGee.

ep13

I’d assumed it was a polite rejection when I got the email saying I was shortlisted for the fire lookout position. Sort of a ‘thanks but no thanks’ because who would drop out in the middle of the season once they’d scored that job? Well apparently someone had, and if I could get there tomorrow, the job was mine. 

When I got the call I was on my way to work. I finished my drive, walked into the trashy dive bar I’d been serving at, and told them I was quitting, I’d found something better. 

I grabbed whatever non-perishables I had lying around the house and drove through the night. It was a drive-up tower, so I could afford to be a bit sleepy that first day since I didn't have to hike in. 

I like to think I masked my tiredness pretty well when Ranger Mike showed me around. The first stop was the cabin I’d be staying in. It was small but cozy, and I hadn’t been sure if I’d end up with running water or not, so when he showed me the shower I was delighted. I had to stifle a few yawns as we went out into the warm sun to explore around. There was a small meadow before the forest started, but just a few steps into the trees I saw something that jolted me awake. 

There had been a fire here, recently. Everything was grey and brown, and the few trees that stood upright looked ready to fall. The lack of canopy over the ruin was startling, compared to the lush forest around it. It was like a big scar. 

“Oh wow.” I said “Is this why the last lookout left? It’s crazy how close this must have been to the tower.”

“No, Robbie stuck around after the fire, we got him out hours before it got here,” Mike said. “Robbie got spooked by the animals. We think there might have been a grizzly that got burned in the fire, we’re not sure if it’s still around or not so I wanted to talk to you about safety and all that before I go.”

I instantly pictured some kind of awful half-burned bear wandering around in the woods, and for the first time, I thought about how alone I was going to be out here. But I repressed any hesitation I had, this is what I’d signed up for. “So that’s why Robbie left?” I asked. 

“Yeah, he just had some kind of run-in late at night, and it scared him. Not everyone can handle being out here alone.” 

I wanted to ask more questions but figured we’d get to that in the safety talks. And well, I wanted to prove that I could handle being out here alone. I didn’t want Mike to think I’d just get scared and leave over some bear. 

When we walked up the long steps to the tall tower, any worry I had vanished. The view from the top was breathtaking. The burnt section of the forest didn’t diminish the view, if anything it enhanced it, making the intact forest look infinitely more vibrant and green in contrast to the desolation. I could handle anything the forest was going to throw at me if this was my reward. The mountains looked like they went on forever.

The rest of the orientation went smoothly. I’d filled in as a volunteer before, just a few times, but I had enough experience that Mike seemed to think I could handle myself. Things did get a bit strange near the end when Mike was giving me the safety talk back in the cabin though.

We discussed bears, and what to do, and there wasn’t much I didn’t already know. But Mike seemed reluctant when I tried to pry a bit more about what had gotten the last guy to leave so quickly. I wanted to know if the bear had tried to charge him or mess with the cabin at all. Mike danced around my question for a bit, before finally saying “Look, sometimes after a fire, the bears, and deer, and hell even the squirrels just act a bit strange. It can be… well, unnerving. You’re out here all alone and the wildlife, some of which is big enough to hurt you, is acting all screwy. It can be too much. Boy, I could tell you some stories about the things I’ve heard guys in this job say they’ve seen after a fire, and you wouldn’t believe what people come up with.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“I don’t want to fill your head with ghost stories and nonsense when you’re about to be on your first big job kid.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Really, it’s nothing, and I should be going anyway,” Mike said, gathering up his papers. “Just watch yourself okay? And well, keep an eye out on the animals too, they might be a bit out of sorts right now, that fire was just last week.”

“What should I watch for?” I asked.

“Just anything strange. You’ll be alright kid.”

With that, Mike left me alone. 

I had that day to get settled in, though I’d brought very little with me in the rush, figuring I’d go home the first weekend and get what I needed then. But I had my sketchbook, and Robbie had left me plenty of reading material. He was supposed to come back up and get his stuff at some point, but I figured in the meantime he wouldn’t mind if I borrowed his books. He’d also left a sleeping bag crumpled up in the tower, which I felt a bit uneasy about, as it hinted at a rather hasty departure. 

After I’d gotten the lay of the land I went for what was supposed to be a quick nap in the cabin, but I didn’t wake up until the sun was setting. I rushed up to the top of the tower, glad I hadn’t missed my first sunset. There were only a few clouds in the sky, but the fog rolling in from the west gave a bright haze in the hollows of the hills. I watched the orange sky fade to pink, feeling at peace for the first time since I’d arrived. But just as the sun started to crawl completely behind the far ridgeline, something caught my eye on a distant peak. 

The treetops were rustling in a line like something was jumping along the branches. I grabbed the binoculars from the top of the bookshelf, only to discover both lenses were cracked. More disturbingly, there were brownish-red stains spiderwebbed along the cracks. I dropped those quickly. I had a pair in my bag, but I hadn’t brought anything upstairs yet, so I just squinted to see what I could see. 

There was a dark, smooth shape, sort of moving along the tops of the trees. It looked big, maybe a martin or bear cub? But the weird thing was, there weren’t really starts and stops from it jumping. But I was pretty far away, and the fog had thickened with the setting sun so I figured maybe I just couldn’t see it very well. The way it moved was so fluid, almost like it was just floating, so sure of itself that it didn’t need to pause as it went. As it approached a small clearing in the forest, I stopped blinking, ready to get a better idea of what it was when it had to jump to the ground. 

But, to my shock, the creature did not drop down as it hit the clearing. Instead, four long, shadowy legs stepped out from the trees. The creature hadn’t been jumping along the treetops, the creature simply was as tall as the canopy. I watched as the thing began to emerge from the woods, but just as I felt I could maybe start to get a good look at it, it turned to look at me instead. Its round head at the end of its long neck jolted, and even from miles away, I knew it was watching me because I could see its glowing orange eyes pointed directly at me. 

With that I jumped down under the glass, hiding where the windows stopped. I stayed like that for a long time, past sunset. When my heart stopped racing, and my hands stopped sweating I was eventually able to convince myself that I’d imagined the whole thing. I was able to make myself walk, not run, but walk calmly as a sane person would, down the steps to my cabin. 

That first night I didn’t sleep. 

When dawn broke I set up my stuff. I wanted to clean up the cabin a bit before morning check-in. I put Robbie’s stuff into a corner so it was all nice and tidy whenever he came back for it. I spent some time studying the map on the Fire Finder and saw two of the other nearby lookout towers marked at the edge of my map. We had five altogether in this forest, and it was a comfort knowing that there were other people out here with me, even if they were far away. 

The Fire Finder itself spun okay and seemed to be in good condition, but I didn’t like that Robbie had taken a grease pencil and scribbled Xs all over the glass covering the map. He’d also frantically circled a few spots near the cabin, which I did not appreciate. Just as my mind started to try and piece together if any of the X’s matched up with what I’d seen last night, I decided I needed to get rid of them. I wasn’t going to let some crazy guy ruin my time here and get in my head. I erased everything he’d scribbled and tried not to dwell on the locations. 

The morning meeting was uneventful, but it was nice to see some friendly faces, even if it was just over video chat. Everyone welcomed me to the team, and though they all seemed nice, most of the names escaped me, I was exhausted. 

The first day passed uneventfully, as did the first week, but I found myself getting into the routine of things, and calming down after that first night. We had wifi at the tower, but I was trying to pretend that I didn’t. Except for the meetings of course. I wanted to learn to unplug, so I started working my way through Robbie’s books until I could get some of my own from home. 

He had mostly horror paperbacks, but as I’m sure any fire lookout has, there were nature books too. My favorite was a field guide about the trees in the area. They were mostly pine, but I didn’t realize how many different kinds there were in the forest. 

I started taking the field guide with me and trying to identify and sketch the different trees when I was off duty. It was especially interesting to walk through the burnt area and see what was already competing for space in the ashes of the old forest. Many of the trees in the area had thick bark, and tall branches, dropping the ones closer to the ground as they grew, in an effort to be more fireproof.

Other trees had fire built into their life cycle, and new shoots near the base of old trees were kickstarted after a blaze. My personal favorite way the trees adapted to the heat though, was with something called serotinous cones. This meant that the pinecones would lay dormant for years, even decades, refusing to open and drop any seeds until they were burned in a fire, and the waxy seal that kept them closed finally broke. 

I didn't spot any fires that first week, and after ten days it was time for my weekend. It was ten days on four days off for us, so I had plenty of time to head home, and actually pack the way I meant to. On the drive back I was excited to be leaving civilization more permanently. 

My excitement quickly fizzled though when I saw someone waiting for me at the cabin. I thought maybe he was a hiker, so I put on my best customer service voice. “Hey man, how’s it going?” I asked him. 

“You’re my replacement,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Then it clicked, and I noted the backpack he had on. Robbie must have come back for his stuff.

“I guess I am. Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand and he didn’t take it. 

“I’m just gonna say what I’m gonna say okay?” 

“Okay”

“They’re lying to you. Mike, and the other lookouts. There’s something weird going on here, and I just wanted to warn you because it’s the right thing to do, and I know you’re not going to believe me, and that’s okay.”

“Robbie,” I said, “what did you see that made you leave?” 

“I saw a bear watching me sleep.” He said simply, then pointed up at the tower “He was watching me sleep from up there.” 

“What do you mean? From the tower?” I laughed a little. “Robbie that’s not possible.”

“I said what I’m gonna say and I’m leaving.” he pushed past me, and I called after him, but he just got in his car. 

That night I slept up in the tower. Not because I was afraid of what might be out there, but because I wanted to look out at the stars. What Robbie had said was so absurd that it honestly kind of put me at ease about the whole situation. 

Over the next week, I saw my first storm from up in the tower, and it was glorious and terrifying all at once. I spotted my first fire. Though when I radioed it in, Mary, the girl to the east of me had already spotted it. I used the Fire Finder to help pinpoint it, and it felt good to be doing a bit of what I’d actually come here to do. 

As summer wore on I made more headway in exploring the forest around the tower. I’d brought some watercolors with me after that first week. I spent a lot of time painting, drawing, and reading. But more than that I spent time just sitting in the tower staring out at the mountains, even when I was off the clock. It was so easy to get lost in just watching the forest move. 

I felt more at peace than I ever had in my life. I’d never quite felt comfortable back home. Growing up in the city, you’d think I’d be used to living in a crowded place, but everything was so loud, and I could never force myself to be a people person. I’d always felt like there was something just a bit off about myself that set people on edge. I’d never been able to achieve that kind of effortless camaraderie that everyone else in the world seemed to be capable of. I had friends of course, and relationships, but somehow it always felt like something was different in the way I was with others compared to the way other people were with each other. I’d catch girlfriends watching me intently sometimes as if they were studying me in some strange way, trying to piece together what they were looking at. And friends, even those of many years, were never close with me in the same way that they were with each other. 

But out here none of that mattered. It was just me, and the forest. Sometimes the other watchers would call in, wanting to chat, and more often than not I found myself ignoring them. Wasn’t the point of coming out here to get some peace and quiet?

I started spending my weekends venturing farther into the forest, going on all-day hikes. One day I decided to follow the burned area as far as I could. By then there were a ton of saplings coming up, enough to blanket most of the forest floor in a sprinkling of green. 

Aside from the extra sunny weather, the hike wasn’t too different from my others, until the early afternoon when I found something strange. I noticed it because it was being propped up on one side by a sapling struggling under a patch of fur. It was a bear carcass, or part of one anyway. 

The hide was definitely there, so my first thought was that someone had skinned the creature, but they’d made a mess of it. The fur wasn’t cut in any discernible pattern, but it didn’t look as if the creature had just decomposed, there was still blood visible in places. I figured maybe someone had killed it for food, and that’s why they didn’t care about the hide. But that didn’t make a lot of sense, it would be much less risky to hunt literally any other animal. 

I tried looking for the skull, thinking it would be neat to bring back to Ranger Mike, so I started digging around in the loose fur. I noticed a distinct lack of bones and flesh right away, so I started to think again that I had just found a botched hide job, but then I saw a flash of white among the ash. Then, my brain registered for the first time just how much ash was on the remains. Like it had been here before the fire. Or perhaps killed by the fire? But that didn’t make any sense, the fur would be burnt up. 

I dug through the ash and found a tooth, which led to more teeth. Then I found something squishy and realized I’d found an eyeball. Another quick dig rewarded me with the other one, and I didn’t know what to make of my discovery at all after that. I examined some more of the skin, and it looked less and less like a knife had made the cuts. It was like the bear had exploded, just jagged shreds all around the edges of the pieces. 

I went back home after that, convinced that there was some kind of mysterious thing happening here, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it. I felt like an explorer, on the cusp of some great discovery. 

That night I slept in the tower, while a storm raged outside. It was exhilarating. 

I woke up just as the sun was beginning to rise, and grabbed my binoculars. It was a foggy morning, and off in the distance, I saw a familiar sight. There was a dark shadowy creature moving in the forest. It was closer this time, and it looked shorter than it had before despite the change in proximity. The beast was on all fours, and its stocky form had me wondering if it was the same creature I’d seen last time, perhaps there was more than one of these beasts out there. 

It stood up on its hind legs and looked at me from three peaks to the west, its eyes burning like the morning sun. Then, it fell back on its feet and started heading towards me. Good, I thought, let it come. 

I lost sight of it when the morning mist cleared. I went about my day as usual after that. I spotted a small fire, but it turned out to just be a campfire in an unauthorized area. That night at sunset I sat perched in my tower, watching for anything that might be watching me back. I soon spotted the beast much closer to me now. It wasn’t as tall as the first creature I’d seen, this was definitely a different beast, and it had a humped back. Its eyes were the same flickering orange, but as it got closer I couldn’t make out anything else about it. Like it was a moving shadow, but as it moved, the trees moved with it. 

By the time it reached the tower it was dark, but it had gotten close enough to give me some ideas. It reared up on its legs again and peered into the tower, blocking out an entire side of the building. It had a round head, like the first beast, but an elongated mouth, almost like a snout. It blended into the night, so it was hard to see too much, but when it opened its mouth, I saw only more blackness. The creature didn’t have fur or skin or anything tangible, it didn’t look quite real, and it was hard to make out any features. But what I could make out for certain as it sniffed and panted at my window was that it did not have any teeth. 

I wondered if it was looking for the ones I’d brought home with me. 

After that, I knew what I had to do. It was another week before we got another fire. After I called it in and got the coordinates I bolted to my car. Something glorious was happening and I needed to see it for myself. 

I parked on an incline close enough to see, but not close enough to be seen, and hopefully not close enough to get burned. I hiked as close as I dared and watched from a distance as helicopters fought the blaze. This was a small one, and it was pretty clear they weren’t going to have any issues, so I started to walk closer. I’d come prepared with a respirator, but the smoky smell in the air was still thick. I waited until the choppers evacuated, then I moved in to examine the ashes. 

I could see the entire burned area was contained along just a small part of the mountainside, they’d gotten to it quickly, and the recent rains probably helped it spread slower. By the time I found what I wanted in the smoldering embers, it was nearly sunset, and my head hurt from the smoke, but it was worth it. Lying among the smoking embers and ash was a snakeskin. But it wasn’t shed, nor burned. It was ripped up. I dug around in the still-warm ash at one end and found tiny white teeth. Carefully, I started sifting around with my fingers for something soft, but this took longer. I finally found my prize about a foot away as if it had been flung. Buried in ash, yet completely intact was a single tiny eye. 

That night I slept like a baby up in my tower, and when I awoke I was greeted with a new friend in the distance. At the very edge of my vision, along the farthest peak to the south was a shadow. Only this one stood on two feet, and as it walked its arms swayed to the sides. 

I stopped drawing in my sketchbook and started to write down my theories. Whatever was going on, I wanted to be the one to document every minute of it. When the other watchers would call me, my excuses for why I couldn’t chat became less and less polite, and soon I stopped picking up completely if it wasn’t during work hours. I didn’t have time for them, and I had far more important things to do. 

This led to Ranger Mike paying me a visit, on my day off no less. The nerve of some people. He claimed he just wanted to check up on me, and that he was worried because I hadn’t been socializing very much. I told him that I was just really enjoying my alone time, but that I would try to be more cordial. He tried to weasel his way into my tower, under the guise of a morning cup of coffee, but I politely rebuffed him, saying I had a lot to get done that day. 

I couldn’t let him see my collection. 

Things were going well until I got my first hiker. Then they were going even better. His name was Luke and he’d wandered over from his friends who were apparently dispersion camping nearby. The old tower by the visitor center dealt with the bulk of tourists for our park, but we were still supposed to be friendly when any wandered by our towers. Luke was very friendly. Too friendly. He and his friends were definitely either drinking or smoking, and I couldn’t help but judge them for letting him wander off alone. 

Luke was far too gone to be any trouble to me, so I figured there was no harm in showing him around. Of course he wanted to see the top of the tower, so I walked up behind him, ready to catch him if he stumbled. 

He spent a good fifteen minutes staring wordlessly out the windows, which endeared him to me a bit. High or not, this was a man who showed a proper appreciation for nature. I gave him the speech I’d had prepared for tourists, and though I hadn’t used it yet I still had it memorized. How there used to be thousands of these towers almost a century ago when the program was founded. Fire watchers would try to stop any and every fire from burning until they realized that that was actually harming the environment. Regular burns were needed to use up the dry brush and curtail the truly catastrophic burns. It was a part of the cycle of nature, and we weren’t meant to stop it entirely. All the usual history. But then I started to tell Luke about some of my own theories. 

“I think actually, that we should take it a step further,” I told him. 

“Right on,” He said, he’d been throwing me 60’s style affirmations the whole speech, which if I’m being honest, grated me a bit, and diminished some of the goodwill he’d earned earlier. 

“I think that if we let the fires burn even more, we could learn something about ourselves, about our place in nature.” I started to point to some of my research, which I’d taped to the walls below the windows, “See, I have a theory that there are some animals, and people too, who need the fire to live out their complete life cycle. Just like the pine trees do. They don’t become what they’re really meant to be unless they burn. I can’t figure out why it’s all different animals though, and why it’s only some. But I’ve been wondering if maybe the ones who need it weren’t really what they were pretending to be in the first place.” I pointed out the drawings I’d done of the human-like creature on the ridge “Or maybe they’re chosen to become something different because they’re special. That’s the theory I like best.”

But Luke didn’t like that. He didn’t like my ideas. 

“Hey, that’s cool, but I should be getting back to my friends.” I could see his eyes focusing more like he’d realized something was wrong and he was trying to ground himself in reality. His eyes darted nervously over my collection as if he was worried the eyes on the bookshelf were looking back at him. 

I took him down the steps and brought him to where he’d wandered out of the woods. He noticed, for the first time, the spot where I’d been having my bonfires. “Isn’t there like a burn ban right now?” he asked, his unease replaced by curiosity now that we were out of the tower. 

“There is. But don't worry, I’m only burning things to make them better.”

Luke did not know what to say to that. He threw me a peace sign and wandered back into the woods. Soon I could hear voices in the distance. His friends must be close by. Very close by. 

The next day I awoke to several pairs of burning eyes watching me from outside my tower, and several new fresh pairs inside of it. The creatures outside couldn’t speak, but I knew what they wanted. It was time for me to join them. 

I started at my beloved bonfire pit, then went all around the cabin, trailing gasoline. Then I liberally splashed the dry brush at the edge of the woods. Finally, I trailed a generous amount up the stairs with me, to ensure I couldn’t change my mind. Lastly, I doused my research along the walls. I’d realized that the outside world wasn’t ready for what I’d discovered. But that didn’t matter. 

As I lit the match, my friends outside began to vanish with the morning sun, but that was okay, I would be with them soon. I dropped the match to the floor and closed my eyes for the last time. I was ready to find my new skin, my new eyes, and become what I was truly meant to be. 

Thank you for tuning in to this episode of the podcast inside your house! To hear every tale of terror as they are released, subscribe to our show on your podcast app or on Youtube. And Until next time, take a moment to enjoy the last bit of spring before summer starts, it might be a real scorcher this year.