fear is a strange thing.
i have been scared before. many times. in second grade, jimmy stetson (a fourth grader) informed me that he would be waiting outside school for me. no “meet me at the flag pole,” no “if you aren’t a baby, you will show up,” just an “I will find you and beat you when school is over.” i was scared. i tried skydiving one time. looking out the big door in the side of the upward-spiraling plane, watching the ground moving away and knowing that i would be jumping out of that very door...i was scared. i was even mugged at the atm once. just a man with a knife and a baseball cap and i am out two hundred bucks and a watch. i was scared then too. i thought i pretty much knew what fear is all about. i thought...
fear is something different.
fear is that tight sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, that little bit of perpetual sweat in the small of your back and not being able to achieve any kind of deep sleep. fear isn’t a single situation, it’s a state of being. you live fear and are controlled by it. it has been one month, three weeks and two days since i woke up and started to learn what fear really was.
i live about a mile from campus and decided not to go home for the summer. i love my house...it’s big and set on nine acres of fantastic land, out of earshot from the neighbors. good for parties, better for peace and quiet. all of my roommates were at home for the christmas break, so had the house to myself...well, myself and susan.
susan
my oldest friend. since i got her as a puppy when i was thirteen, we had been inseparable. she slept in my bed with me every night, through high school girlfriend breakups and fights with mom and dad. we would walk by the river near my folks place and lounge in the sun together for long summer afternoons, not needing to play or do anything , just sitting and being safe in each others company. that was the way it was between us...no expectations, but nothing but...that was until early last month when the fire started in the woods at the edge of the property.
it’s odd how much noise big trees make when they are on fire. they crack and pop and eventually, some of them fall. that is what woke me up at 3 in the morning...that and susan barking. i was up and out the door in short order and saw immediately what was going on. there is a small grove of trees about four hundred yards from the house proper, blazing with flames that seemed to lick the clouds. in evident response to the ragged caress of the tongues of orange and yellow, the clouds opened up and began to drench the ground. it wasn’t enough to put out the trees proper, but it was enough to make the grass around them resistant to the onset of a prairie fire. across the field, the screen door was also not enough to stop susan from crashing out into the night, barking wildly at the slowly diminishing flames as she chased the fire. i called out once, but knew she would come back when she had had her fill of excitement. besides...sleeping outside would serve her right for running heedlessly off!
i went to bed with a slight chuckle and a content “something interesting happened tonight, but it will all be fine in the morning,” feeling buzzing in my head.
i awoke to the lingering smell of wood smoke and the feeling of being watched. i jolted upright to find susan, head cocked to the side and gazing intently at me, sitting in the doorway. i could have sworn i left the front door shut and locked...but obviously not.
