Chapter 4- Off to Piston Peak
"Propwash Junction just got shut down?"
"With no active runway, how can anybody land?"
"They can't! That's the problem!"
"Well there goes the Corn Festival."
"But I already finished my corncob costume."
That last voice was Kate AKA Corn Lady and she wasn't fooling anyone. She hadn't even taken her costume off from last year.
As always, news travelled fast in Propwash Junction. Everyone was aware of the situation and the whole town, sans Susannah, had gathered to solve the problem. However, some of the townspeople were making that even more difficult.
"Now, everybody, calm down", Skipper tried to call us all to order. Calm down."
"Calm down? Calm down?" Brodi repeated incredulously.
"That's right", Mom agreed. "We're here to address and solve the problem, not just gripe about it."
"Well, I think we're entitled to some griping", Brodi voiced his opinion. "Motel's booked! This Corn Festival is what butters my corn."
"I paid for extra stock for my store to accommodate for the increased tourism!" Mrs. Singer pointed out. "I may as well have flushed that money down the toilet!"
Most everyone agreed.
"Some of us have children to provide for too, you know", Mr. Singer, the town's handyman, put in. He waved towards his kids; Tim's grandkids and a couple of vehicular children, who were playing freeze tag nearby, oblivious to our predicament.
"We've already figured this out", Skipper announced. "Dottie, show 'em."
"This is Mayday now!" Dottie gestured to a drawing of the fire truck.
"I did the drawings!" Chug whispered proudly.
"Nice!" Celeste whispered back.
"We add a new four hundred-watt siren, a two thousand GPM roof turret, a high-capacity water tank with integrated class A foam cell..." Sparky revealed a second drawing, which showed the final product. "...and we'll have an all-new Mayday."
"Get out!" Sparky exclaimed, eyeing the drawing. "He gets rocket boosters?"
"That's right!" Chug confirmed. "Fuelled by good old hydrazine and nitrogen tetroxide. Of course, remember, that stuff is highly explosive, so you'll want to keep it away from any open flames."
"But… he's a fire truck", Sparky reminded him
"Exactly", Chug responded.
"Uh... Chug? Are you sure you've thought that through, buddy?" I wondered. Even though I'd known Chug since before we were old enough to say, "Goo, goo, gaa, gaa", sometimes, even I couldn't figure him out.
"Go on, Dottie", the fuel truck urged.
"So, for Mayday to keep his job and get Propwash reopened", Dottie continued, "we just need to find a…second firefighter."
That was obviously the tougher problem and everyone let us know.
"What?" Leadbottom exclaimed. "At this time of year? It's fire season!"
"How much is another firefighter gonna cost?" someone wondered.
"I'll tell ya how much: too much!" Leadbottom retorted. "If we hire one, we might as well hire two!"
You may have me figured out by now. I care a lot about my friends and family and my community. If they have a problem, I consider it my duty to solve it. That's why, without thinking, I blurted out, "Hey, I could be a firefighter!"
"You?!" Leadbottom asked sceptically.
"Sure, why not?" I shrugged. "I'll get trained and certified. I'd be more than happy to do it."
"You sure?" Tim questioned uncertainly. "I mean, you've got a kid on the way..."
"Exactly!" I countered. "I want my child to grow up somewhere safe and that everyone knows is safe. I want to protect not just him, but all of you as well."
Mom smiled at me. "You've always been such a good boy, David. I know Mayday will certainly appreciate it."
Everyone seemed reasonably satisfied and the meeting pretty much broke up after that.
"Hey, where's Dusty?" Celeste wondered.
We all looked around to see that he was gone.
Dottie groaned. "He better not be racing again."
It turned out that we didn't need to worry about that. He emerged from the firehouse with Mayday, looking very happy.
"Hey, guys!" he greeted us. "What's up?"
"David has decided that he will be Propwash Junction's second firefighter!" Mom answered proudly.
Mayday beamed. "That's wonderful, David! I could certainly use some extra help."
"Extra?" Emma repeated, confused.
"Really?" Dusty asked in an unreadable tone. "I was going to do it."
I smiled. "Great! We can get certified together."
"How come you volunteered?" Dusty wanted to know. "The fire was my fault."
I shrugged. "I just wanted to help, you know, take care of everyone."
"You always do", Dusty responded and it could've been my imagination, but I thought that he didn't say it as though it were a compliment.
That night, I agonised over the decision whether or not to become a firefighter. Should I really leave Susannah and the baby? They'll be fine, I decided eventually, still not one hundred per cent convinced. The baby isn't due for another few months and Susannah's tough. Propwash is the top priority right now.
That settled it. I was going with Dusty to Piston Peak National Park. An old buddy of Mayday's was going to train us.
"Highway's all clear, Duster!" Chug reported once a herd of tractors had rolled past. We had to take off from the highway because, you know, the airport had been shut down.
"Now, when you get to Piston Peak Air Attack, you're gonna ask for Blade Ranger", Mayday reminded us.
"Blade Ranger", Dusty and I repeated. The name sounded vaguely familiar to me. I just assumed that it was because he was an old friend of Mayday's. Perhaps he'd mentioned him before; I just couldn't remember when.
"You got it", Mayday confirmed. "Yeah. He's their chief of fire and rescue. He's an old friend of mine. He can train and certify you."
Dusty started his propeller. "Consider it done, Mayday", he reassured the firefighter.
"We'll take care of everything", I promised.
"I'm sure you will", Susannah agreed, leaning over in her wheelchair to give me a kiss. "Next time I see my husband, he'll be a certified firefighter."
"If anything baby-related happens- anything at all- let me know and I'll be home immediately", I instructed, kissing my wife's lips and then her baby bump.
"And, boys, be careful", Skipper cautioned. "Especially you, Dusty."
"I will", Dusty vowed.
"See you soon!" I added as Dusty took off.
"Good luck, boys!" Mayday hollered after us.
"Take it easy out there!" That was Dottie.
"Look after each other!" Mom put in.
"You can do it!" Skipper added.
"You got this!" Celeste cheered, raising a fist in solidarity with us. Next to her, Emma did the same.
"We're proud of you guys!" Chug called.
"Whoo-hoo! Good luck!" Sparky shouted.
I was a little nervous to be riding on Dusty, especially for such a long flight to central California, but I knew I was going to have to get used to being afraid of things and doing them anyway, if I were going to be a firefighter.
What made the journey seem even longer was the fact that Dusty was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole flight. I asked him a couple of times if he was okay and he just stated quite simply that he was. Like I said, I'm not much of a talker, so I mostly kept quiet too.
Finally, cities gave way to small towns. Then the small towns gave way to dense forests and mountains. Even though I'm not very big on travel, I could tell right away that Piston Peak was going to be a place I loved with the fresh air, lots of natural beauty and no Vita-minamulch. Plus, if everyone was as friendly as the train we greeted on the way in, I was sure that Piston Peak would be almost as nice as Propwash Junction.
"Not bad, huh?" I tried to make conversation with Dusty as we soared over a geyser and fancy-looking lodge.
"Yeah, it's great", Dusty agreed half-heartedly.
"You sure something's not wrong?" I checked one more time.
"I'm sure, David!" he snapped. "Stop asking!"
"Okay. Sorry."
When Dusty landed at the base, the place was quiet. I figured that people would be rushing around, organising equipment, talking and laughing as they worked. Yet, at first glance, there was not a sole in sight. There wasn't much noise either, except for soft music so quiet, I wasn't sure I could really hear it.
Then I started to see people: a dark pink forklift inside the tower, washing the windows; a dark green Sikorsky/Erickson CH64 Skycrane lifting a load of heavy-looking logs like barbells; a bright yellow and red SuperScooper catching some rays; a blue and grey forklift in a garage, groaning, "Argh! Stick shift!", and a Fairchild C-119 Flying Boxcar listening to a radio through headphones. There was only one other human in sight: a Native American human woman in her late twenties or early thirties, who was washing a Golden retriever in a portable tub. Nearby, four other dogs- a poodle, a Great Dane, a cocker spaniel and a French bulldog- sniffed the ground around them.
"Hello?" I called out uncertainly.
Nobody paid us the slightest bit of attention.
"Ripping!" a voice yelled out. A second later, a vehicle- a yellow and black skid street digger- went flying overhead.
"Dude!" a new voice exclaimed as a human in his twenties popped up. He had light brown hair; light green eyes and was dressed in a red, black and yellow firefighter's uniform. "That's the farthest jump I've ever seen you do! World record territory, for sure!" He tried to run over to the street digger, only to trip over his own feet.
"Yeah, that was awesome!" yet another human spoke up in an unmistakably Australian accent. He had golden brown hair; deep brown eyes and was quite tall. He wore a matching uniform.
"Drip!" a female voice scolded. This voice belonged to a black and yellow ATV. "What the heck is the matter with you? You nearly took off the guy's canopy!"
A vehicle with a saw blade; a small bulldozer and a digger vehicle with a rake all emerged from the top of the hill the street digger had just jumped from.
"Yeah, but Blackout said it was okay to go, dude", the street digger- Drip, apparently- protested.
The saw bladed vehicle blinked in confusion. "I did?"
"He did?" the ATV repeated doubtfully.
"Yeah, he was like, 'He's okay to go, dude'", Drip insisted.
"Humph!"
"Oh, relax, Dynamite! It's just a little fun!" the Australian laughed. "We'll be more careful this time!"
"No we won't!" the American human joked, grabbing hold of the other human's waist and flinging him into the dirt. Pretty soon, the two of them were wrestling and laughing hysterically.
"Uh, I'm sorry", Dusty interjected. Both humans paused in their wrestling and stared at him. "I know you're busy, but I am looking for Piston Peak Air Attack."
He is? I wondered.
"You are there!" the digger confirmed.
"Serving beautiful V6 Valley since 1958", the small ATV clarified. "You must be the SEAT and rookie. We heard you were comin'. I'm Dynamite. This is Dragon", (the American human) "Macca..."
The Australian human nodded casually. "G'day!"
"Blackout", (the one with the saw) "Pinecone", (the one with the rake) Avalanche..."
"HELLO!" the bulldozer shouted.
"…and Evel Ke-numbskull over there is Drip."
"Hey, guys. What's up? I'm Dusty Crophopper."
"Dusty Crophopper?" an excited voice echoed. "Dusty Crophopper!"
In a split second, the SuperScooper was right in his face, smiling broadly.
"The air racer?" she squealed, her voice so high that I thought it would disturb the dogs nearby. "Shut the hangar door! I'm your biggest fan! I have seen every single one of your races on RSN. Wow! You're smaller than I thought", she added. "But that's okay!"
"Um, thanks", Dusty replied uncertainly.
"So, who's your friend?" The SuperScooper nodded towards me.
Dusty didn't answer. I wish I knew what his problem was.
Picking up on the fact that Dusty wasn't going to, I introduced myself. "I'm David... Hazelwood."
"Nice to meet you... Where's Celeste Wright?"
"At home", Dusty explained. "She was injured a couple of days ago."
"Oh, no!" this plane exclaimed sympathetically. "So what's a world-famous racing superstar doing here?"
"Yeah, uh, I'm here because I'm between races right now", Dusty began, the SuperScooper hanging on to his every word. "So I'm helping out some friends..."
I nodded. "Me too." My friend was acting like I wasn't even there.
"Oh, that's so sweet!" the SuperScooper cooed, also ignoring me and just focusing on Dusty. "I'm Dipper. That's what everyone calls me, so you can too."
"Great to meet you", Dusty told her.
"Dipper, you might want to calm yourself down", the human woman laughed, coming over to join us. She extended her hand towards me first and then Dusty. "Heather Wilde. Everyone 'round here just calls me Wildflower."
"Nice to meet you, Wildflower", Dusty and I chorused. This time, we found ourselves meaning it.
"Don't let Dipper and the boys throw you", Dynamite spoke up. "Wildflower and I are perfectly normal."
I smiled. "Well, I guess I'm just gonna have to trust you on that one." I noticed that Wildflower wasn't wearing a uniform like Dragon and Macca. Her outfit was jeans, a cream turtleneck and hiking boots. "So, Wildflower, what do you do here?"
"Oh, I'm the Piston Peak veterinarian", she explained. "I treat any wildlife that gets injured in the fire. If there aren't any- which is what I hope for every time- I help Maru-" She waved towards the blue and grey forklift in the garage. "-with any odd jobs that needed doing around here."
I nodded, interested. "Cool!"
Dusty addressed the crowd we'd attracted. "I'm looking for Blade Ranger."
"He's out scouting for spot fires", Dynamite told us. "He should be back in a few."
"Thanks."
"The one the Lakota call Haokah beats his drum with the wind to make thunder", the Skycrane piped up, clearly Native American like Wildflower. "With thunder comes lightning, and with lightning comes fire."
"Okay..." Dusty answered, clearly unsure of how to respond. "Yeah, very nice."
"Windlifter! Stop scaring our guests!" Dipper instructed. "I don't hear any drums."
"Kilawu", Windlifter whispered.
Not even a moment later was the sound of an alarm. "All aircraft, we've got a report of a wildfire."
"Come on, boys!" Maru shouted. "Let's load up! Patch! Drop the needle!"
A second later, everyone sprang into action as "Thunderstruck" by AC/DC started up; not my kind of music, but the type that Celeste likes to listen too.
"It's an actual fire?" Dusty questioned worriedly.
"Oh yeah! It happens all the time", Dipper explained, not sounding at all concerned. "You guys only hear about the big ones!"
"Fire is due to an unattended campfire", Patch relayed the information. "Location: ten clicks northwest heading two-niner-seven. Slow rate of spread. Ten acres with a northerly wind on it."
It amazed me how quickly this quirky and eclectic group got their act together. It only took about a minute for the planes and helicopters to get loaded up with retardant and the "Smokejumpers" (Dynamite, Blackout Pinecone, Avalanche, Drip, Dragon and Macca) and take to the skies.
"I gotta see this!" Dusty declared excitedly, still talking to himself rather than me.
"Not a good idea, Dust", I countered. "They're probably trying to get people out of there."
"Fine! Stay here!" Dusty snapped.
"Whoa, what's your problem?" I demanded. I just couldn't figure out what it was I'd done to upset him this much.
In the end, I went with Dusty, mostly because I was curious.
"Stay out of the way, though, all right?" I reminded him not unkindly. "I don't want you getting hurt."
"Right. I won't let you get into trouble, David."
"What do you mean?" I wondered.
Before he could answer, we caught up with the team. Although, I had the suspicion that we shouldn't be there, I had to admit, it was pretty cool to watch. Dipper, Windlifter and a red and white helicopter we hadn't seen before- Chief Blade Ranger, presumably- were dropping retardant on the blaze to control it. The Smokejumpers leapt out of Cabbie, the Fairchild, and parachuted to the ground. I was impressed, watching them clear away wood and logs to prevent the fire from spreading. It was an interesting contrast to the joking, laughing and wrestling they'd been doing. I was glad to see them get into serious mode.
The coolest part, though, was when a Deere got trapped and Blade released a cable to grab its antlers and pull it to safety.
"Awesome!" Dusty declared.
"Yeah!" I agreed. Then I got an uneasy feeling, noticing how close to the flames we were. "Dusty, you are remembering to stay back, aren't you?"
"Get out of this airspace!" the red and white helicopter ordered.
"Oh, sorry!" Dusty apologised just as I shouted, "Dust, look out!"
Too late. Dusty flew right in the way of the retardant Dipper was dropping, A second later, we were both sticky and red. Cringing, I turned to look at the helicopter. No doubt about it. He was furious!
