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By Savannah Haze Date: 2002 Jul 25 Comment on this Work [[2002.07.25.01.28.15610]] |
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Shawn took my hand. He led me away from the road and into the dark woods. I squinted into the darkness, attempting to see the massive structure that supposedly awaited us. I questioned as to if it were really there. He assured me it was here. "Here" was the huge fire watchtower Shawn had been telling me about forever. Fire towers, as we'd always heard them called, had been used years ago to keep watch over large forests. This one had been abandoned for at least thirty years; the driveway up to it had been blocked long enough to allow it to become severely overgrown. We parked on the side of the road and began our hike into the woods. I was unsure in each step I took, like an infant who is letting go of his parent's hands for the first time to walk. I thought about the sandals I was wearing and how exposed my tender feet were. Visions of snakes and rodents filled my mind, and with each step I wondered if my foot would strike leaves and twigs or if I would feel it shift as it struck animal flesh. With no warning, Shawn let go of my hand and ran up ahead of me. I began to panic. I knew he wasn't far, but it was too dark to see him even when he was right beside me. I cried out to him, begging him to come back to me. "I'm clearing away any spider webs, okay? Just stand still." I stood there and held my breath, whispering the 23rd Psalm to myself. All of a sudden I felt someone behind me. Before I could even react, I was being picked up and thrown over someone's shoulder. I began to scream for Shawn but there was no reply. In my panic, I began to beat my assailant with my fists, cursing him. Then as quick as I left the ground, I returned, stumbling over a large branch. "God, I was just messing. You didn't have to freak out!" Tears streamed down my cheeks. I wanted to run away; I wanted to run back to the truck, turn all the interior lights on and bask in the comforting glow. I looked around but could no longer see the truck. Shawn reached out for me and I knocked his hand away. I cursed him, asking him how he could do that to me. He reached out to touch my face and felt the tears on my cheek. He then realized how truly upset I was. "Oh, babydoll, I'm so sorry. Look, we'll go back. I'll take you home." I shook my head. I reached out and took hold of his coat. I nudged him on ahead of me. I had come this far and was determined to go through with it. We walked as one toward our destination. It wasn't far, not even a city block's distance; but the walk seemed to go on forever. Tree branches scraped my face, and the sound of crickets was so loud it was almost deafening in the thick night air. He told me to close my eyes. I protested. He told me to trust him. I hated when he would say that. I never could tell him 'no'. I closed my eyes, and we walked about ten more steps. He whispered for me to open them. We were in a clearing and the moon shone down upon us. There was enough light to make out the shapes around me. Straight-ahead was the fire tower, a massive structure constructed of metal. I craned my neck back but couldn't see the top of it. I was a little let down and let him know so. He scoffed. I inquired what we were to do now. "Climb." I said a silent prayer that he meant stairs and that he didn't expect me to play Spider Man. We walked to the base of the structure; and I was relieved to see not only steps, but also handrails. I asked him if this was safe or even legal. He turned his head toward me and probably rolled his eyes. Legality generally wasn't an issue for Shawn. He took my hand and placed it on the rail. He told me to be careful when I went from level to level or I might hit my head. We ascended the structure. There were twenty or thirty flights; I lost count after the first five. I was too focused on not slipping and plummeting to my death. At each platform, I expected the top to arrive but was only met with another set of stairs. Finally, the stairs ended and above our heads was a huge wooden platform. He pointed out the opening to the top level. It was a three by four-foot square cut out to serve as a door. It was directly over my head. I climbed the three rungs up to the opening and hoisted myself into the top level. I stood up, dusted my knees and hands and looked at my surroundings. Four walls made of metal bars, each about waist high, enclosed the platform. There was a ceiling about twelve feet above my head that was supported by four posts. A sharp breeze blew through the "cabin," and I pulled my jacket closer. It felt at least ten degrees colder than it had on the ground. The walls and floor were covered in graffiti, with everything from an upside-down pentagram to "I love Skeeter" scrawled in obnoxious shades of Krylon. By now, Shawn had joined me. I moved closer to him as he began to take off his trench coat and indicated I was cold. He put his coat and then his arms around me. "So, whatcha think?" The place gave me the creeps. I mean, here we are in the middle of nowhere, it's pitch dark, it's after midnight and we are standing on top of this, this thing that I'm not even sure is stable. And to top it off, there are satanic symbols under my feet. I began to voice my complaints; he gently placed his hand over my mouth. "Just look at the view." I don't know how I had missed the view. We walked to the edge and looked out. We were at least twenty-five feet above the treetops. The sky seemed to go on forever, and I had never seen so many stars. He pointed out all of the small towns and counties that surrounded us. I could see Henderson, Selmer, Adamsville; trees and sky went on for miles, meeting in the far distance. I couldn't believe it. The night seemed to go on forever. I sat down and took of my sandals, dangling my legs through the bars. I swung my feet and stuck my head through the bars to look at them. I stared out into the night. In that one mystical moment, I forgot everything. I was oblivious to the bitter wind, the darkness, and even Shawn's presence. I don't know how long I sat there. The silence was broken as he asked me if I wanted a cigarette. I nodded, pulling my eyes away from the sky. I watched him fight against the wind to light the cigarette. Laughing, I took it away and pulled out my Zippo to light it myself. I inhaled, exhaled. I closed my eyes. I felt a peace. What had at first intimidated me presented me with a peace I had not felt in many years. I don't remember what we talked about that night. I don't remember many of the conversations we had up there over the next four years. Oh, I remember drinking bear and throwing firecrackers off the top. I remember watching storms as they approached, staying until the lightning began striking trees around us and the rain pelted our skin. I remember all the times we laughed and cried. But it wasn't what was said that was important; it was the way we felt when we were there. It was our haven. The one place where no one could find us. We could share secrets and fear no one hearing them but the wind. I could lay my head on his chest and let him hold me without people whispering, "Are they more than friends?" It was our place. Our special place. So much contributed to it: the view, the silence, the feeling of being above not only the trees but also our problems. But it was what we brought to our "cabin above the trees" that made it what it is in my mind. I haven't been to the tower in a long time. Shawn has been once since he took me last. He took a girl he was dating. He felt so guilty that he came and told me after he dropped her off. I felt betrayed, almost as if something sacred had been made common. It's silly, yes, to hold a simple metal structure so close to your heart. I mean, there is no telling how many teenagers have climbed those stairs. We were not the first, nor will we be the last; but in my heart, we are the best. We understood the tower to be more than an act of rebellion or adolescent adventure. It was a refuge, even a type of incubator for our growing friendship. In past years, watchmen had used the tower to spot fires; for us, the tower helped kindle the fire in our hearts that burn even now. |