Letters in Time by Reiss Susan (i love reading books .txt) 📕

outside and straining for air. I didn’t want to strangle him with the power window. I tried to talk to him, but he ignored me. Then I remembered one of TJ’s commands.

In a stern voice, I gave him an order. “Come. Now.”

Surprised, he swung his head in my direction and moved toward me. I reached over the driver’s seat and hit the control buttons to close all the windows. Then I shut off the outside circulation and turned up the air-conditioning. At least we could breathe while we waited. Ghost left big nose prints on the window glass as he followed TJ's movements outside.

In the field, smoke was churning up in clouds again. Flames blazed above the stalks, heading toward the road. Toward us.

A firefighter got TJ's attention, pointed to the woods then to the road. His message was clear. Get out!  In a second, TJ started running toward me. I pulled my seatbelt, ready. He leaped into his seat, released the brake, and we took off at breakneck speed.

“What’s wrong?  Where are we going?”  I asked as we charged down the road.

He coughed some smoke out of his lungs. His face was wet with flecks of ash caught in beads of sweat. His hazel-green eyes flashed with urgency. “We’re getting away, as far away as possible.”

"What happened?" I looked in the big outside rearview mirror but couldn't see anything but smoke rising from the field we'd just left.

He coughed again. “You saw the madman in the truck?” I nodded.  “That was Johnny. He farms that field. He told the firefighters about a small building on the far edge that he uses for storage.”

“Are they scrambling to protect the building?”

“They are scrambling,” TJ said in a grave tone, “to protect all of us. There’s ammonium nitrate stored inside that building. It’s fertilizer used on the farm.”

I thought of the bright blue liquid fertilizer I used on my houseplants when I remembered to feed them. Then my brain started to make connections.  Fertilizer.  Farm fertilizer. My throat tightened. “No, you don’t mean…like Oklahoma City?”

TJ nodded his head slowly.

Oklahoma City.  Bomb.

He took a deep breath. “Yes, if the flames reach that building…all that will be left is a deep crater.”

I looked in the rearview mirror again, but couldn’t tell what was happening.

“They told us to get out,” he explained.  “They’ll evacuate anybody else close by,”

“Are they evacuating, too?”

A sad smile appeared on his face. "Of course not. Their job is to run toward the danger, not away from it. They'll get in there and, I suspect, water down the building to keep it from heating up or igniting from the sparks flying around. And they’ll keep working to put out the fire in the field."

TJ turned the wheel, pulled over to the shoulder, and stopped. Fire truck after fire truck screamed toward us, lights and sirens flaring. The noise was piercing. I crouched in my seat and covered my ears. In a moment, TJ touched my arm and I realized they were gone.

“Didn’t I tell you? Always racing toward the danger.” He glanced up the road. “Here comes another one.”

I covered my ears again and watched an ambulance streak by.

“Does that mean someone’s hurt?” I asked, my voice quaking.

“No. These crews live the motto, Be prepared… just in case.” He checked the road in both directions and pulled out.

“Don’t you need to stay?” I asked.

“No. These people know what they’re doing. They don’t need a novice getting in the way, no matter how good my intentions might be.”

"Will they be okay? I mean, with the chemicals and everything, things could get out of hand…" I didn't want to think about the possibilities.

"No, everything will be fine." He paused for a moment, thinking, then added. "Unless, of course, we hear a big boom." He glanced my way. "Hey, don't worry about it. I heard them calling in an additional alarm. These aren't city boys. They deal with farms and farm chemicals all the time. Don't worry."

He looked at me again, a little longer this time. “You’re pale, Emma.”

"Probably because I'm late for my pain pill, I'm hurting, but not much." The last thing I wanted him to know about was the PTSD attack. These last hours of being treated like a normal human being were exquisite.

 “What do you say I take you home?” he said.

I nodded and started the slow breathing exercise again so the flashbacks and all didn’t start again.

As we rolled along, past field after field, I began to wonder. “TJ, whatever made you go over to those fields? I mean, they’re not on our way home.”

“It’s all part of my job.”

“As a handyman?” I was confused.

“No, I only worked as a handyman for Jack.” He winked at me. “I do custom planting and harvesting. Johnny is one of my clients.”

“Custom?  How does that work? I thought a farmer planted the seeds and harvested the crop.” I felt like a real city girl.

“You’re right, in theory. When you’re farming hundreds of acres, you need big machines to do those things efficiently. Not everybody can afford or wants to spend the money on the combines and all. It's expensive. That's where I come in. I have the equipment and experience. They pay me to work in their fields and get the job done, whatever the season. My crew and I will start harvesting around the 15th of September if all goes the way I expect weather-wise."

Things were starting to fall into place. “Is that why you read the Farmers’ Almanac?” 

“One reason.  It’s right more often than those slick meteorologists with the big hair and heavy makeup on TV. And there’s lots of useful information and ads in there, too.”

Now