Smoke

The children were chasing along the banks of the river, their feet kicking up the dirt that had settled along the edges. It hadn’t rained in weeks now, and the scorching July sun had made the water vanish, leaving behind only dust and rocks in the river’s empty bed. The heat of the summer rested like a heavy blanket over the small town. It was Annie who ran ahead of the others, her long blonde hair trailing behind her, her laughter loud and high-pitched. “Bet you can’t catch me!” She jumped over a rock and fleetingly glanced over her shoulder, her feet mid-air. Ben, the lanky boy who lived in the house across the street, followed her closely, his face smudged and dusty from wiping his hands across his sweaty forehead. He was a surprisingly fast runner, like his muscles stretched further than hers could. Miriam trailed behind, breathing heavily as she tried to keep up. She had been so keen to come out and play with them earlier, her round face eagerly anticipating friendship. Maybe she’d had something more innocent in mind, not roaming around the outskirts of town. Either way, Annie was sure – they were not going to catch her today. She hastened along the corn field that emerged next to the empty river bed, its overgrown grass like meager golden fingers, leading the way. The air was thick, almost feverish, and Annie tried to ignore the stinging pain in her side. It smelled of burning hay, as if the rays of the sun were scorching the grass, and in the spur of the moment, she decided against hiding in the dense labyrinth that the field had become. 

Instead, she cast another look over her shoulder, glad to see Ben finally fall behind before she sharply turned left to make her escape down the empty bed of the river. The bed wasn’t deep, but dust had accumulated over the past weeks, and Annie was surprised at how much sand and dirt rose up as her feet hit the slope down towards where the water had been. She coughed as the dust particles entered her mouth, and her feet suddenly slid down the slope faster than she could anticipate. Instinctively, she closed her eyes, and gasped as she blindly felt her foot hit a hard obstacle. There was a sharp pain in her ankle, and Annie could hear her own panicky scream as she fell, her bodyweight collapsing onto her elbows as she stretched out her arms towards the ground. The river bed smelled like sand and bones, dry and lifeless, and Annie lay quietly, feeling the pain move from her ankle up through her entire body. It was a piercing sensation, like sand rubbing up against her skin. Her elbows hurt like she had burnt them when she slowly sat up and looked around her, disoriented by the blazing sun. The river bed seemed much deeper now that she was sitting on its ground, the banks high above her. The pain bit her right ankle like an animal, and there were tears forming in her throat. She swallowed hard and coughed – “Ben? Can you hear me?” Her voice sounded quiet and helpless, very unlike herself, and before she could stop it, a tear ran down her cheek, leaving a clean line against her smudged skin. “Annie?” Ben’s voice called, and she had never felt relief quite like this when she heard that he was close by. She quickly ran her hand over her cheek so that he wouldn’t see her cry before he appeared on the edge of the river bed, sweaty and out of breath. She could tell that he would have never caught up with her if she had kept running. She was almost glad that she hadn’t.

Ben carefully descended to where Annie was sitting, slowly placing one foot in front of the other before he knelt down next to her. “What happened?” he asked, which she quietly thought was easy to deduct. Still, to her own surprise, her voice was soft when she told him how she had fallen, and when gesturing to the injured foot, she felt the tears come back up and quickly looked away from him. He didn’t notice, but moved in front of her and examined her ankle as if he was a trained doctor and not an eleven-year-old schoolboy: “Can you move it this way? Mm. And this way?” She winced and closed her eyes – it was embarrassing to feel the pain, like it was an inconvenience, a trivial but vivid sensation that she had somehow attracted. “Alright,” Ben said eventually, and when she opened her eyes, Miriam had also appeared on the bank. He held out his arm to help her come down to join them. Miriam looked exhausted; her brown fringe stuck to her forehead and her face had taken on a deep pink colour. “Are you okay?” she asked timidly, her eyes widening as she looked down at Annie, awkwardly curled up on the ground. Annie felt again that this was a pointless question. “I’ll be fine,” she said, glad to hear that her voice sounded more like herself this time, and she tried to sit up so that her back rested against the rock over which she had fallen. Ben frowned. “We have to carry her home, I think.” Miriam looked at him, her expression concerned at first, then she slowly began to nod.

It took a few minutes until they managed to have Annie stand up between them, with Ben and Miriam holding their arms around her middle, hoisting her weight forward with every step. The river bed would lead them back towards town, close enough so that Ben could run home and find his father. They didn’t talk on the way back, their steps slow and strained, interrupted only by occasional flinching when Annie’s foot touched a rock or a branch in their way. The corn field towered high above them now, and they had advanced only a few meters when Miriam suddenly stopped walking, causing Annie to stagger. “Do you smell that, too?” she said quietly, and before Annie could protest, the smell hit her with an intensity that made it impossible to believe she had dismissed it earlier – smoke. The grass stood still and silent above them, but Annie could picture the fire so clearly that she almost saw the smoke rise from the singed plants. A shiver ran down her spine despite the enduring heat of the sun. Ben smelled it, too. He looked around, his eyes wide and alarmed. He muttered something that she couldn’t understand, then tightened his grip around Annie’s waist and said: “We’ve got to be quick. Let’s go.” Miriam seemed to be too stunned to say anything, but Annie could feel her rapid breathing next to hers as they stumbled on, each of them casting quick looks back to see if the flames were already visible. As if in a haze, Annie vaguely remembered a lesson at school about wildfires – a film about people lighting campfires or cigarettes when they shouldn’t, something about climate change, then the warnings of their teacher to pay attention when roaming around on hot days. She had forgotten all about it until now, feeling dizzy as thoughts came to her that she had never considered before. How long did it take until the air would turn into smoky poison? Was it hotter now already, the rays of the sun closer to burning them? Did real fire feel anything like the hot sand, rubbing against her skin? She suppressed a sob. They needed to hurry. A piercing pain ran from her ankle up to her knee as she tried to put her weight on the injured foot, but she bit her tongue and limped on, faster now, feeling Ben’s and Miriam’s sweaty arms around her middle. They were still by her side, even though she could tell that they wanted to run. 

The edge of town slowly came into view just when Annie felt that would collapse into the hot sand. The dense trees of Centennial Park appeared like a good omen in the distance, but Ben only grunted, and they didn’t slow down until the river bed finally widened to leave the field behind them. Out of breath and without speaking, they crawled up the slope, their hands and knees dirty and aching, and tears ran down Annie's cheeks without her being able to stop them. Ben and Miriam carried her the last few steps across the brown grass until they reached the deserted parking lot, where the heat reflected off the black pavement like a dark mirror. The air was still and slow, their frantic breaths the only sound. Without a word, Ben led them to a bench underneath one of the trees, and Annie still felt the hot fear radiate from her own body as they sat down next to each other, breathing heavily. Ben held his face in his hands, and she could not tell if he was crying, too. Miriam was the first to look up, her hand shaking as she pointed towards the field. “Look.” The others followed her gaze, and Annie felt her chest tighten painfully as she saw it. The smoke rose from the overgrown grass like a dark swarm of birds and trailed along the banks of the river bed towards them, forming eerie patterns against the cloudless sky.