Eighteen

Billy zipped up his fly and got down off the picnic table. He picked up a metal plate from a mess kit and used it to shovel dirt on the remains of the campfire. Rich was pissed and Billy knew it. He kept an eye on him while finished up his work smothering the embers in the fire pit. Rich’s clothes were singed. His face was sooty – in fact, he looked like one of the ninja minstrels. No doubt about it as far as Billy was concerned, Rich had defected.

“You’ve gone over to the other side, man. You’ve gone over to the winners.”

“If winning means I don’t want to burn down the forest and go to jail, then yes, I’ve gone over to the winners.” Rich stopped briefly and peered down at Billy in the smoky darkness, “Look, just help me clean this up so I can go back home, please?” They had tamped out and smothered all of the flames. The ninja minstrels were hunting down the glowing embers that still peppered the ground.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Said the male ninja minstrel.

“What?”

“You’re not going anywhere,” The man repeated. “We’re calling 911. Andrea, get the cell phone!”

“But we didn’t burn the forest down!” Rich protested. He climbed down off the Cherokee and approached the man. The determination in his voice was replaced by frantic desperation. “We’re sorry, okay? It was just a stupid accident!”

“DON’T YOU COME ANY CLOSER WITH THAT AXE! ANDREA, CALL 911 RIGHT NOW!

“No, no, no!” Rich threw the axe away like the handle had just burned him. “It’s not like that at all!”

“You guys came up here with that tackle box full of god knows what, got high, harassed us and proceeded to commit arson.”

“The tackle box?” Rich asked. “That’s not even mine. It’s Dave’s fucking tackle box. Dave, the guy who ran off when the trouble started.” Rich walked over to the picnic table, picked up a flashlight and searched out the tackle box. “Look, it’s not a problem. See?” He opened the tackle box latch and pulled out the accordion shelving. With one robust swing Rich threw it and its contents into the forest behind the campsite.

“That doesn’t change a thing,” the man said holding the cell phone his wife handed him. “You’re all going to jail.”