I push through a cluster of bushes, feeling rough leaves brush against my arms. I finally emerge and I'm greeted with the sight of where I'll be staying for my time out here.
A lone firewatch tower stands in front of the moon on top a slight bump in the ground, a silhouette of prosperity against the bright moon. The tower looks sturdy and which stairs leading up to the top around the outside of the inner frame. The only man made light on at the moment is a lone headlight which is shining down onto the area which is the beginning of the staircase. I tilt my head further upwards to see the lookout room with a balcony around it. Most of the structure has been painted white with not that much colour involved.
I continue to walk with aching legs and sore back, thankful that my journey is at its end. The forest around the tower is full of trees and several small boulders which are sprinkled across the floor. And whilst said trees stand tall and proud, the tower itself is much more grand and looms over the forest with a watchful appearance.
I make it to the stairs and begin to walk which is a particularly painful experience for my knees. I have to use the banister quite a fair amount and suddenly I feel old which is strange for a thirty-nine-year old to feel. The wood is quite rough and I have to make sure that I don't plant my hand on any large splinters. I reach the top of the staircase and double over, panting and catching my breath. I straighten up to find all the windows of the tower have been boarded up which I knew was mandatory so I'll remove them in the morning. I turn to lean against the banister staring out into the night sky. There isn't a single cloud inside and the moon is the forest's natural light bulb and it provides enough to keep my knowledgeable about my surroundings. I make my around the side of the tower until I find the door to the tower. It's painted white with a golden yellow handle and glass in the center of the door. I open the door, turning the handle slowly to reveal the inside of my temporary home.
In the right corner of the room, is my bed with the sheets and pillow already folded and laid out for me. Next to it is a bookcase, which is on top of a small chest of white drawers with birch handles. There is already two books already stocked in the wooden frame and I make a mental note to put the rest of my books in there when I wake up. Against the left side of the room, there is a green-top counter which is fitted with a sink. To the left of that, a small oven fitted with gas cookers on top and to the left of that is a fireplace. On the side closest to me is where the desk is. That, a bin with a stool over it and a small stack of firewood. On top of the desk, is a cardboard box labelled with the words 'Supplies for Two-Forks'. In fact, there are a lot of cardboard boxes around the room labelled the text as the one on my desk. To the right of that is a desk lamp and to the left is a what looks like a radio which is currently plugged into its charging station. I extend my right hand to the yellowish, orangish device and toss it to my left hand. The back has a clip which I could attach onto my trousers with ease. The receiver and speaker is grey yet surrounded by the primary colour of the radio and a small black antenna sticks up out the top. There's also a small, clear light which isn't on at the moment. I slide it into my pocket now and shift my gaze to the large switch which is on the wall and labelled 'generator switch'. I press of the red button satisfyingly yet nothing happens for a couple of seconds and I get worried that I won't have any electricity for my time out here.
Then, the lone lightbulb which is hanging from the center of the room turns on up, providing me with the light I need to see. I get a better look of my surroundings, setting down my backpack on top of the stool by the desk.
"Hello Two-Forks tower!" A voice from below my makes me jump and I panic for a while, thinking I'm going insane before I realise that it's just my radio that spoke, it's small light now present and red. I clear my throat and raise the device to my face.
"Um...hello? Whoever this is?" I give a shaky reply back, smashing my idea of a good first impression to pieces.
"It's Henry right?" The voice asks which I now identify as a woman's voice.
"Yeah" I reply.
"I'm Delilah" the voice gives itself a name even though I already partially knew already.
"Yeah that's what the guy said on the phone" I say whilst examining the water jug on top of the counter. There's a bit of silence for a while before Delilah speaks again.
"So...what's wrong with you?" She questions. I blink my eyes, surprised by this remark.
"Excuse me?" I exclaim, slightly agitated into the radio. What could she mean but that?
"People take this job to get away from something. So what's wrong?" She sounds off again. I don't reply for a while because somehow when we haven't even been talking for a minute, she knows why I am here. I instead decide to resist giving her an answer.
"What's wrong with you?" I fire back and I practically hear her thinking.
"That's a great idea! Go ahead" She beckons me and I'm caught off my guard by this. I don't really want to put up with her toddler attitude though when I can't feel my legs anymore.
"Look, I just hiked for two days so I don't really follow whatever it is you're doing right now" I groan, beginning to unfold my sheets and prepping my pillow with my free hand.
"You take a stab at what's wrong with me" Delilah explains as if this were some kindergarten game. I laugh to myself a bit in disbelief about how cheery this woman is but my laugh is more forced than anything because my body is begging me for sleep.
"Fine. Then can I sleep…? Forever?" I ask, walking around the table in the middle of my room.
"Sure buddy. Now go ahead" her voice sounds eager. I think for a while, thinking of all the possible crazy stories I could suggest just so I can go to bed. These stories went from she killed three ex-husbands to she's rebelling against her mom but instead, I decide to tell her the guess which is most realistic.
"Okay...you're probably out here because nobody at home can stand you" I say and open the small cookbook which has been provided to me on the counter next to the sink.
"Which, after this brief introduction, isn't a big shock" I say, adding insult to injury whilst I look through the cookbook. There really isn't a lot of good recipes.
"Ouch! I'll chalk that up to you being tired and grumpy" she says, jokingly although she is right.
I'm tired and I'm grumpy.
"Well, I'd better get some sleep then" I force her back to my current issue.
"One sec! Now it's my turn" she complains like a child on the swings.
"Okay. Goodnight. Bye" I say, trying to shut her down.
"Let's see...I don't know anything about you. But maybe you just really like trees. Maybe it's, gosh, maybe it's a borderline fetish. A tree fetish" she explains like it's some sort of campfire story.
Okay I'm done with this woman.
"Goodnight" I say in a tone which says 'I'm not going to listen to you anymore'. I hear her chuckle slightly on the other side of the radio. I sit down on my bed and hear one more thing before fatigue overcomes me.
"Goodnight. Welcome to the job"