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Drive Me To the Moon

By Mike Baines

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Chapter One

The Call


The line went dead on the other end. Yet, Marcy stood frozen with the phone still at her ear. What had she just agreed to? Hadn't she promised Jacody they would make important decisions together? How could she spin this so he wouldn't feel she had gone rogue? Goodness knows they need the money! But committing to being gone for one to two weeks on a fire without talking to him first was going to be a hard pill for her husband to swallow.

Marcy put her phone down and walked to the kitchen sink. She stared out the window at the ranch she and Jacody were trying so hard to hold on to. The long rays of the late afternoon sun held that intense quality of light that gave everything a bright golden glow. Across the barnyard and up along the creek, a rainbow appeared from the wheel irrigation system watering the 16-acre alfalfa field, neatly trimmed after its second cutting. Jacody should be finished cutting the 8-acre field and replacing the irrigation lines by supper time. With purpose, Marcy went through Jacody’s favorite meals. She wanted to cook one that would put him in the best mood possible before she shared what she had just committed to.

Shepard’s Pie surfaced as the winner. As comfort food goes, it is right up there at the top of the list and Marcy was looking for all the comfort she could get to soften the hard discussion that would follow the evening meal. As her hands busied themselves preparing the meal, her mind busied itself remembering how they came into possession of this ranch.

Jacody and Marcy had often marveled about how the stars fell into alignment concerning the ranch. For them to be in the possession of this patch of God’s Green Earth was nothing short of a miracle. Maintaining possession of it, however, requires both to do whatever is necessary to pay the bills. Hiram Walker’s family owned this ranch since the early 1800s, and Hiram, well into his 80s, has health issues with no family to help him keep things up. Over the years, he came to rely more and more on his lifelong friend Sam Portman and his strawberry blonde sidekick for the help he needed.

Hiram and Marcy, along with Marcy’s husband of two and a half years, Jacody Jones, struck a deal. Hiram, with no relatives to leave his property to, wanted to make sure the government wouldn’t get their greedy hands on it after he was gone. Hiram was fond of Marcy and came to think of her as his granddaughter too. After Marcy married Jacody they were working on his ranch almost weekly. So, it put Hiram’s mind at ease when, several years ago, he had legal papers drawn up giving ownership of the ranch to Marcy and Jacody Jones with the stipulation he could remain on the property and in his house for as long as he was physically able. This came as both a blessing and a bane to the Jones.

The blessing was that, in this day and age, acquiring a 680-acre ranch with a 2,400-acre federal grazing allotment would take more cash than the 2 of them were likely to earn in their lifetime, or, at least, in the next 30 years. But there it was. All nice and legal; I’s dotted and T’s crossed. If they can make it profitable, Moon Ranch would be all theirs!

The bane, or curse, was that as Hiram’s health declined, so too had his industry. He had barely kept enough cattle on his federal allotment to maintain it. That is, if the current permit holder does not put at least the minimum number of cattle designated by the Forest Service’s Range Conservationist on the allotment, the permit could be reassigned to another permittee. That alone was an indicator that the ranch’s management was in a downward spiral. Irrigation equipment was in disrepair and some of the land had fallen out of production. The fact was, the ranch had been bleeding money for several years as Hiram neglected it. Hiram had borrowed money using the ranch as collateral and those notes were coming due; notes that were now Marcy and Jacody’s responsibility to pay.

Marcy was confident that she was more than up for the task. From an early age, she had proved herself to be an able-bodied hand. Like most ranch kids, she had been very active in 4-H livestock. She went through horse, beef cattle, sheep, goats… all but rabbits. What was there to do but shoot and eat rabbits and where was the challenge to that? She helped her family with equal skill moving cattle from winter pasture on the home place to the summer range on her grandfather’s grazing allotment he had with the Forest Service. She was accurate with the lasso from horseback and could head or heel calves when it came time to brand, tag, dehorn, and worm them. From the time she could reach the pedals on the flatbed dually, she had driven the truck loaded with hay to do winter feeding. Tall for her age, by thirteen she was driving the ranch’s old Dimond Reo semi-tractor, dubbed “Desperado” by her dad, around the ranch. Then, on occasion, late in the evening when she and Grandpa Sam were coming back from hauling hay to the Midwest and he was growing weary, she would take the wheel and bring them home.

At eighteen she was hired by Acme Fireline Inc. as a crewmember on their hotshot crew. On any large fire, one of the first resources called for is hotshot crews. A hotshot crew is made up of 20 highly trained wildland firefighters. They are the boots on the ground; the first line of defense against a spreading wildfire. They start in Arizona/New Mexico and work North as the fire conditions and the fires move North. They usually end the season back down in Southern California where the fire season always lingers longer. They work twelve to fourteen hour days, 7 days a week, 2 weeks at a time. After 2 days off they start another 2-week cycle. That means lots of overtime from late spring to late fall. During her short fire career, she moved from crewmember to squad boss to crew boss. At 22 she tore the meniscus in her left knee and hung up her White logger’s boots for good.

During the off-season from fire, she was keeping Desperado, the truck grandpa Sam bought new in 1974, busy hauling grain from the nation’s food basket to granaries or seaports on the West coast during harvest. In the fall it might be beef cattle hauled to Kansas and from there, calves back to Oregon where they would be fattened before being hauled back to the Midwest. Big Bud Fontaine Logging and a few construction outfits often called on her to move equipment around for them.

As Hiram Walker’s health declined, she started turning down long-haul jobs. If she wasn’t there to help on the Walker Ranch, Grandpa Sam would try to do it all and she was worried about him injuring himself, although she would never tell her grandfather that. He would only work harder to prove her wrong. It got better when Marcy and Jacody started seeing each other. Jacody truly enjoyed working on Hiram’s ranch.

“Jacody. Yes. I need to deal with Jacody!” Marcy said into the thin air.

Her thoughts returned to the task at hand. Her goal was to keep her husband on an even keel while getting him to see the benefits of the sacrifice. She knew Jacody could relate to the pull she felt to answer the fire call. When she joined the Fireline Hotshots, Jacody was a rookie, just like her. He too had a strong attraction to fighting wildland fire. It was he who designed the crew’s logo: Wiley E. Coyote spreading fire with a drip torch that had “ACME” on it in big letters. They liked the joke: “If you play with fire for money, you’re an arsonist. If you play with fire for fun, you’re a pyromaniac. If you play with fire for money and fun, you’re a wildland firefighter!”

If all she had to do was make money, she could do that. What was the point, though, if you never got to enjoy the reason you spent all your time making money? “We need to get ahead of the game so we can have a little fun and enjoyment!”, she said out loud to herself. The fact remains, “you have to make hay while the sun shines”. Running this ranch and getting it out of the red ink was a 3- or 4-person job. But when it is just the 2 of them, they must work sunup to sundown 7 days a week. They seem to have stopped the bleeding but have yet to start showing a profit. They spend, spend, spend, and eventually, there is a profit – hopefully equal to, or greater, than all the spending.

Her going on a fire right now would be a large infusion of cash that would really help them until they sold off some of their livestock that was ready for market. The catch here was they needed to retain a certain number of cattle to maintain the stocking level on their federal grazing allotment. She needed Jacody to see that meeting her commitment to Big Bud Fontane Logging was a plus for the ranch. All she had to do is to pick up a dozer, take it to the Stutler Ridge Fire and be there to move it as directed by the fire management team. Simple! She would only be gone two weeks… maybe more… but probably only two weeks. Yes, they should have discussed it together so his fragile male ego would not be threatened, but she was sure the decision would have been the same. “That’s a fact, Jack!” she mumbled as she took the Shepard’s Pie out of the oven to cool.

Marcy heard the side door close and the sound of big boots in the mudroom off the kitchen. Right on cue… supper is ready and so is my man!

“Now that’s good timing,” Marcy said, “Get washed up and I’ll throw a salad together. You set the table and maybe open a bottle of that Blueberry Pino Noir.”
“Something sure smells good and if I wasn’t hungry before, I sure am now!” Jacody said.
“We’ve got Shepard’s Pie tonight,” Marcy said.
“What? Wait! It’s not my birthday. I know it’s not our 3rd anniversary yet. Is it? Is it our anniversary? I’m sorry! I can’t believe….”
“Hold on! Stop!” Marcy interrupted, “Can’t I fix a good meal I know you like, ‘just because’?”
“Well, sure you can Honey,” Jacody said more calmly now. “You can fix good stuff anytime you want. Don’t let me hold you back. I’ll eat it too!”
“I know you would!” Marcy laughed. “So how’s the cutting look on this field? Is it about the same as the upper field?
“It may be a little better. That new irrigation system may be worth the money we spent on it. Time will tell but we sure aren’t going to make it back in just two cuttings,” Jacody said.
“Well, it might come close if what we get for alfalfa goes up,” Marcy said as she set the salad on the table and turned to get silverware.
“Oh sure, that would help,” POP! Went the cork out of the wine bottle. “But on the balance sheet, it won’t make up for the increase in diesel fuel!” Jacody said as he poured each of them a glass of wine.
After they were seated at the table, they bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Jacody prayed and gave God thanks for the food, for their marriage, for the ranch, and for their families. He asked God to be with Hiram and to heal him if it is in His will. Jacody said “Amen” and Marcy echoed him.
They remained silent for a while; Jacody seemed focused on every bite of comfort food. Marcy ate too, but not with the same vigor as Jacody. She watched Jacody and wondered what he was thinking about. It seemed he could close all the drawers in his mind and be content to think about… nothing. Meanwhile, she was getting knots in her stomach knowing she was going to have to start a conversation she’d rather not have.
“When I was in town today, I stopped by Shady Acres and visited with Hiram,” Marcy said, stalling off what she really wanted to talk about.
Jacody said, “Well good! How’s Hiram today?”
“Not much better, I’m afraid. “Marcy said. “The nurse told me he is still having mini hemorrhaging in his brain and the hospital says they can only make him comfortable. He wanted to know if I was still selling girl scout cookies. I wonder who Lydia is and if she used to sell cookies to him. I’ll have to ask Grandpa Sam if he knows anything about that.”
“Yeah. Do that,” Jacody said in between bites.
Marcy waited for the right words to come. The silence for her was deafening. Jacody, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice. Again, all the drawers in his brain appeared closed as he happily poked pie in his face.
“This dry spell is really something,” Marcy began.
“Yeah. Something,” Jacody replied.
“Lots of fires in California, Oregon, and Washington,” Marcy said.
“Uh-huh,” Said Jacody.
“You ever miss going on fires?” Asked Marcy
“What? No, not really.”
“But the money was good, right?" Marcy asked.
“Oh. Yeah, good. Would you pass me another biscuit, please?"
“You’ll never guess who called this afternoon,” Here we go Marcy thought.
“Your Grandma Nellie. No. Wait! A guy concerned about the extended warranty on your vehicle running out? Publisher’s Clearing House? We’re rich! Oh! How about HGTV? We won the HGTV Dream House 2019 in Whitefish, Montana?” Jacody blurted out.
“OK! OK! I think I liked you better when you were just quietly sitting there eating. Marcy said. “I’ve been trying to find an easy way to talk to you about something.”
“Did your mare get out again? I swear that horse has learned how to open gates! Seriously! I’ve run that fence line, and I don’t find a break in it.” Jacody said defensively.
“You are not going to make this easy so I’m just going to tell you what I’ve done,” Marcy said.
Now that she had his undivided attention, she continued, “I got a call this afternoon from Bud Fontaine.” Marcy said.
“So what does Big Bud want? A skidder up on a timber landing? Jacody asked, “that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“No. That wouldn’t be a problem.” Marcy answered evenly, “He wants me to go down to Ruby Mountain Equipment in Winnemucca, load up a dozer, take it to the Stutler Ridge Fire on the Modoc National Forest in California, and then, he wants me to stay with it until the fire releases it. He’s emailing me the Resource Order. The fire is a lightning start from yesterday and is up to around 5,200 acres as of early this morning according to Inciweb. There is a Rocky Mountain Type 1 Incident Management Team in place, and they are hurting for resources. I need to be prepared to spend 2 weeks there and maybe be extended another week. There. I know we said we would not make any big decisions by ourselves… but I got caught up in the excitement of going on a fire again and it could mean as much as $10-12,000, maybe more depending on how long I’m there. We could upgrade the irrigation system on the upper field like we did the lower field. I told Big Bud I’d do it. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Jacody sat there idly running his finger around the outside edge of his empty bowl making the spoon in his bowl go around and around. He finally spoke, “Well, I am disappointed.” He looked up for a moment, and then looked down again. “I’m disappointed that I might not see you for up to three weeks.” He paused, then looked up at her and went on. “I’m disappointed that you thought I might be mad at you. I’m unhappy that I will have to feed that horse of yours. You know she doesn’t like me at all.”
Marcy said, “really? You’re not mad. How about your male ego? Is it damaged since I took it upon myself to make this decision?”
“Of course,” Jacody answered, “I think we should talk with each other, and we should weigh out the pros and cons together. I could easily get upset with you because this is a big deal; you leaving me alone with everything here on the ranch to do by myself. I’d like to think you gave this careful consideration – that you thought of all the advantages and disadvantages. I’d like to think you considered the impact this will have on me. I’d like to think that… but I’d be wrong if I did. It sounds like Big Bud just told you to go down to Winnemucca, pick up a dozer and go to the Warner Mountains and stay with it until he tells you to go home. I’m wondering why Big Bud can tell you to do stuff and you just say, OK, but when I try to tell you something we end up in a big debate about it and I say, ‘Well, I guess we don’t need whatever it was after all’. Then you often say, ‘No. I think I should do that.’ It takes us hours to get to an agreement. But with Big Bud, it’s once and done. But this is what you want to do, I have every confidence you know how to do it, and we would have come up with the same decision if we had talked it through. So you are going. We can use the money. Actually, we need the money.”
Marcy had brightened up, “Oh J.J., I’m so glad…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold your horses,” Jacody interrupted, “there’s more,” he continued somewhat sheepishly, “You see, this afternoon I kind of obligated our contingency fund to upfront much of the water system I’m going to put in over on the Roberts’ Ranch and I wasn’t sure how to tell you…. being we always discuss big decisions before we make them, and I failed to do that with you this time. I just knew you thought something was wrong the way you just poked at your food and kept looking at me the way you do when you know something isn’t right but you’re not sure what. I thought my brain was going to burst I was trying so hard to figure out how to tell you. I felt like I had skated out on thin ice by myself. Now I feel like we both are out there on thin ice together. I feel a whole lot better now!”
Marcy’s jaw went slack temporarily. “What! You….!” She threw a half-eaten biscuit at him hitting him harmlessly on the chest. “All during supper I thought the drawers in your brain were closed, that you weren’t thinking anything, and here you were stuffing your face because you needed to confess sins greater than mine and didn’t know what to say! Well, I’d say I sure saved your bacon on this one Sweetie-pie! Furthermore, talk about me and Big Bud, will you? What’s Ralph and Rhonda Roberts got on you that you are buying water systems for them with our money?”
Jacody held up both hands as a sign of submission. “Okay, okay! My bad, your good. Whatever you say, dear. Let’s call it a draw.”
“Your bad and my good? Marcy asked with one eyebrow raised. “Yeah. I can live with that.”
“Uh-huh,” Jacody said. “God seems to have a way of keeping us on an even keel. Now you know why I couldn’t be too mad at you for doing the same thing I just did. The Roberts’ job will bring in a healthy check and Big Bud’s job will too. I’m glad we didn’t let the Road Use Taxes and permits lapse on Cupcake.”

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