The Lookouts Tale

Author's Note:

This story was quite experimental in its development. I saw an old television program some time ago that took place almost entirely within a remote fire lookout tower, and I thought it might be an interesting setting for a story. I didn't know who the characters would be, what their relationship would be, what erotic situations they would find themselves in; I merely started writing and let the story unfold pretty much under its own steam. I set a rule that I was not allowed to go back and rework any plot elements etc, the story would write itself as much as possible. When the exercise was finished I set the story aside forgetting all about it. I found it again only this morning and decided to see how you, the readers, respond to it! Please vote and please comment.

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Reed Johnstone climbed the familiar trail about a half mile from where he was able to park his truck. This was to be his fourth summer working as a fire lookout for the Forest Service and he was looking forward to it.

The past year had been a difficult one, with Tricia having given him the boot after two and a half years. She had decided that she could no longer stand to have a boyfriend who was not aiming for a Wall Street career, even though she had always known that Reed would be one to make his living in the great outdoors. But rough though it was, he was glad to be spending his summer at the top of the Pine Peak lookout in the deep mountains of Montana's Rocky Mountains.

At the top of his climb stood the Pine Peak tower. It had been built in 1939 and was one of the oldest fire lookout towers in the region.

It rose forty-two feet off the ground on top of the 5950 foot mountain on which it stood. The switchback stairs creaked mightily under his feet. He remembered with a chuckle the first time he had ascended them. He thought that they were sure to break through at any moment, sending him crashing to his death, but now he was so used to them that they had the familiar sound like the voice of an old friend.

At the top of the tower the wind was significantly stronger than at ground-level. He knew that more than anything the summer winds would be his constant companions.

He fumbled with the lock on the door of the cab and make his way inside. He dropped his backpack on the one small table and did his preliminary inspection. Apart from a winter's worth of dust, everything seemed to be just fine.

His fingers fell along the cool metal ring around the outer edge of the Osborne Fire Finder. The device had been part of the original equipment when the tower was built, and it still remained a viable and important tool for precisely identifying a fire's location.

He lifted the telephone receiver and heard the hoped-for dial tone. He called in to report that he had arrived, then set about his housekeeping chores.

The cab was not a large space, but at fourteen feet square it was one of the larger ones. The small table with two wooden chairs doubled as his work desk and he put the half-dozen novels he'd brought with him along the back edge.

The bed was really nothing more than a padded bench along one of the outer walls, which were entirely made of windows so that a fire could easily and immediately be detected and reported. He tossed his pillow and single wool blanket onto it.

There was just one bare-bulbed lamp, but Reed preferred to use it only when absolutely necessary. He chose instead the softer glow of a hurricane oil lamp, if he used any artificial illumination at all.

After cooking a light meal on the lone hotplate he returned to his truck for the last few possessions he had brought with him, including his guitar.

For the first evening of the summer, he sat outside the cab on the railed exterior walkway that wrapped all the way around. He strummed the guitar gently and sang his lullaby to the forest, feeling the peace of the mighty wilderness that demanded his respect as much as his admiration.

Even though he could go days, or even weeks without seeing another person, he was still required to be in uniform. It was important to the Forest Service that the lookout be perceived as an important professional on the job, and not just some random person in a tower. The few hikers that would venture this far back into the forest would frequently use the tower as a way point and would usually stop by to shout a short conversation with the lookout at the top of the tower.

Reed enjoyed his interactions with the people and it was always a good opportunity to remind them to be vigilant against wildfires and other safety issues.

* * * * *

One morning Reed sat atop his tower having just finished sending in the most recent weather readings. He was rummaging through the supply trunk, looking for the machete so he could thin some of the branches along the trail to the outhouse.

He caught sight of a beautiful woman in a bright blue sweater as she came ambling up his trail. He immediately decided that he'd better make sure she was not in need of any assistance because, you know... well she was gorgeous!

He made his way out onto the walkway and hollered down.

"Good morning, miss! Is everything going according to your plans today?"

"So far," she shouted. Is it OK to park my car down there where that big green truck is?"

"That should be fine! Where are you headed off to today?"

He really didn't care. He just wanted to prolong the conversation.

"I'm heading to Lake Mare. I'm supposed to meet some friends there. We hear it's a perfect place for camping. I'm just not sure I'm reading the map right!"

"I'll be right down and can help you!" called Reed.

Soon he was at the base of the tower. He almost never came down to the ground for a hiker, but he wanted to get a closer look at what he'd seen from above. He was glad he did. Cute as a button, about five foot three, with long blonde hair and the most adorable cheeks that Reed had ever laid eyes on.

"Hi, I'm Reed Johnstone with the Forest Service," he said with his hand outstretched.

"I'm Ivy. Ivy Smith."

"Oh, just like Miss Turnstiles!" he piped up.

"Who?"

"You know. From the musical

On the Town.

She stared at him blankly.

"MGM 1949?" he ventured. "Gene Kelly? And Vera Ellen played Ivy Smith, Miss Turnstiles!"

"I don't know much about musicals", she countered cautiously. "I didn't expect to find a forest ranger who is an expert on musicals."

"Well, I guess that's what happens when your parents are actors." He began to feel a bit self-conscious so he decided to change the subject to more present matters. "Let me take a look at your map."

She proffered it and showed where she had marked where she thought her current position was.

"OK, here's your first problem, you've got the map in the wrong orientation. The lake is actually

seven

miles that way, not

two

miles that way."

"Oh," she blushed. "Well it's a good thing I'm getting an early start then!"

And she turned to stride off in the direction he had indicated. It was only then that he noticed the price tags still attached to all of her gear slung on her back. He also noticed that her boots were brand new and began to wonder if she really knew what she was getting herself in for.

He called after her, "Listen, I don't mean to be presumptuous but how much back-country experience do you have?"

"Enough," she said and resumed her stride.

"Your gear is telling me a different story. It's all brand new, and so are your shoes. If you haven't properly broken them in, I can guarantee you blisters within two miles."

"Thank you for your concern, Mr Johnstone. I may not be the most experienced hiker in the world, but my friends have considerable experience and are going to show me how it's done."

"Well, OK. Just please make sure that you don't get yourself lost. Oh, and keep your bear spray handy. There are plenty of bears out here."

"Bears!?"

"Plenty of bears."

"I see."

"And did you hear about the weather alert? There's a good chance that tonight or tomorrow we could see some very strong thunderstorms through here."

"Again, thank you Mr. Johnstone. I'll be fine."

And just like that she disappeared into the forest. It was a trail that Reed knew very well, as Lake Mare was one of his favorite camping areas when he was not serving as lookout.

He returned to his duties and found the machete which he used to make his passage to the outhouse a bit easier. Then he chopped some fresh firewood for the fire pit at the base of the tower and went to take his mid-day weather readings. The usual winds atop the tower were dwindling down to near nothing.

The proverbial calm before the storm,

he thought. As he checked the barometric pressure and temperature he suspected that the weather would definitely be changing sooner than later.

His thoughts kept drifting to the perky blonde that had visited that morning, and his concern for her well-being began to grow. He only hoped that she had met up with her friends.

Awhile later the phone rang. One short, one long, one short. That was his tower's ring. He answered it and heard the familiar voice of Terry Wilton, his supervisor, on the line.

"Reed, how's the weather lookin' there?"

"Not great, Terry. If I had to guess, I'd say that we're in for a pretty strong thunderstorm. And from the look of the clouds rolling in I'd say it's gonna be a wet one!"

"Yeah, that's what we're thinking too. Good thing about a wet one is less danger of fire.

"By the way, Reed, have you seen any hikers in the area today?"

"Just one. Cute little blonde gal. By herself on her way to meet some friends at Lake Mare."

There was silence on the line for a few seconds.

"You didn't get her name by chance, did you?"

"As a matter of fact I did. Her name is Ivy Smith.

Terry heaved a sigh.

"I was afraid of this. Well, keep an eye out for her, will ya? Her friends wrecked their jeep on their way up that direction this afternoon. They'll be OK in a day or two, but they're real worried about their friend. They said her name was Ivy. and that she's not an experienced hiker."

"Look, Terry, I knew we're not Search and Rescue, but I know this area really well, and I know where she was going. Do you think I should look for her?"

"You can't leave the tower unattended with a storm coming in. If there's a lightning fire it needs to be called in immediately."

Reed could hear Terry's fingers drumming on his desk for a couple of seconds as he considered the situation.

"I can get Logan up there in 45 minutes but you can only have him for an hour. He has to get back to his station tonight."

"I think we should do it," Reed said with resolute determination.

He set about getting ready to go into the deep woods. He changed out of his uniform and into more rugged clothes. He packed a bit of food and water along with a first aid kit, and an emergency shelter and mylar space blanket. Periodically he stepped out onto the walkway with his binoculars and searched in vain for any sign of Ivy. The trees were simply too dense and clearings were few and far between.

Reed heard footsteps clambering up the tower and knew it must be Logan, so he grabbed his small pack and bolted, meeting him about halfway down. Logan handed him a bullhorn.

"You might be able to use this to help find her," he said.

"Thanks, Logan. I promise I'll be back within an hour, whether I find her or not."

And he shot out into the forest.

The skies were beginning to darken and the wind had definitely picked up. The soft whooshing through the trees became harsher and constant. He used the bullhorn to call out for Ivy and then listen carefully for any tell-tale sound.

His heart began to race when he came upon her unmistakably new bedroll lying a few feet off the path. He triggered the bullhorn.

"Miss Smith! Ivy Smith! Can you hear me? Make any noise you can three times so I can find you!"

He listened intently. Nothing but the rushing wind through the tree canopy.

Then suddenly, faintly he thought he heard three cracks. He waited stock-still, straining to hear any sound out of the ordinary. Then again, off to his left, the faint sound of wood slapping wood.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Reed carefully made his way through the dense foliage. Suddenly the terrain changed abruptly to a steep grade that went down about fifty feet into a ravine.

"Hang on, Ivy! I'm coming for you!" he hollered into the bullhorn, then cast it aside and broke into his pack. He uncoiled the rope he had brought and secured its rigging to a tree before carefully lowering himself down the hill.

At the bottom he found Ivy, more scared than hurt, but still a bit banged up from the tumble she had taken. Fortunately the brush was dense enough to have kept her from gaining too much speed, so it was really more a series of small consecutive tumbles that had deposited her at the bottom of the ravine.

She sat holding a branch in her had that she had used to signal Reed. As soon as she saw him she immediately began to bawl.

"Oh, Mr. Johnstone! You were so right! I didn't know what I was doing and--"

He wrapped his arms around her to calm her and instinctively stroked her hair.

"Shhhhh, Quiet now. You're safe now. I've got you and I'm going to get you out of here. You're going to be fine."

She buried her face into his chest and continued to sob. Reed allowed it only for a moment before he spoke to her in an firm and urgent tone.

"Look, we've got to get out of here. That storm I told you about is almost here and it's gonna be a gully-washer! I need you to do everything I tell you, OK?"

She only nodded, still choking back the tears but relieved that she had been found.

Reed secured the rope around Ivy to assist her in climbing. He pulled down on one end of the rope which helped to lift her out bit-by-bit.

After about twenty minutes they were back on the trail.

"Can you walk?" asked Reed. "That storm is right about on top of us now."

"I can try", Ivy ventured, but soon discovered that her ankle had twisted just enough to keep her from being able to walk on it.

Reed collected his small kit and jammed it inside her overly-enormous backpack which he slung onto his shoulders. He handed her the bullhorn.

"Here. You'll have to carry this. There's no room in the pack."

He swept her up into his arms and began retracing his path back toward the tower. Ivy helped as much as she was able, pulling branches aside in a effort to make it easier for Reed.

The skies by this time had darkened considerably and the wind was whipping through the trees. The rain seemed to let loose in massive sheets of drenching water. Reed could feel his boots getting heavier with the mud that was accumulating on them, and he found he was having to walk much more carefully. Of course when it's raining the natural tendency is to walk faster, but he knew that for safety he would actually have to walk slower.

Above the din of the heavily falling rain and the rushing wind came another sound of impending danger-- thunder. Soon the sky above them was filled with random flashes of blue-white light, beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

When the tower came in sight Reed instructed Ivy to use the bullhorn to call out to Logan that they had returned and were OK.

Logan came scrambling down the stairs and met them at the bottom.

"Dude, you just barely made in back in time. I was leaving you a note! I have to leave

right now

or Terry's gonna have my head! I'll call you tomorrow to make sure everything's OK."

And in a flash of lightning he went running down the hill to his vehicle.

Reed carried Ivy all the way up to the cab at the top of the tower. He was huffing pretty heavily from the exertion. He was by no means out of shape, but this had been a grueling hike for him.

Once safely inside he set Ivy down on the bench with her leg outstretched so that he could check it more closely for any more injuries. Fortunately he found none and wrapped her ankle in an elastic bandage.

Ivy watched silently as he worked, his breathing still a bit labored and with water still dripping profusely from the bill of his cap, which he eventually removed and tossed aside.

He made his way to the hot plate and found that Logan had made a pot of coffee that was still reasonably warm, so he poured a cup for Ivy. She readily accepted it, warming her hands on the small tin cup.

For the first time since he'd found her in the ravine, Reed was able to take some attention for himself. He kicked his muddy boots to the corner where the door was and shucked his jacket.

He was trying to pull his sweater over his head and discovered that the fabric was so wet it clung and stuck with every tug. Ivy watched with rapt attention as he scooted and hopped about trying to wrestle the garment from over his head.

After successfully removing the sweater he began to peel off the drenched shirt. His brawny body was clearly visible beneath his tank top and she allowed her gaze to drop lower where for the first time she became aware that she could see how his drenched trousers perfectly clung to every contour of his body, outlining his thick package.

He continued to hop one way and then the other unaware of the show he was providing. At last he pulled the shirt free and dropped it soaking at his feet. He looked up and saw that Ivy was staring at him. He mistook her mesmerized look for one of concern; for her friends, he presumed.

"I need to tell you about your friends," he began. "Now, don't be worried about them but they were in a bit of an accident on their way to the lake today. They'll be fine but they're being kept overnight in the hospital just for observation."

Nikki just continued to stare, not meeting his gaze.

"They were worried about you and asked us to keep an eye out for you," he continued. "I'm just glad I was able to find you!

"Ivy? Miss Smith? Ivy?"

She shook herself out of her trance and tried to make coherent conversation, but her eyes remained glued to his gorgeous anatomy.

Reed stopped and glanced down to see what she was staring at. Never in a million years would he have thought that he was putting on a peep show. He quickly begged an excuse and turned away. He was badly embarrassed at having been caught in this condition.

From the moment he lifted her into his arms he had been entranced by her scent. Numerous times as they made their way through the woods she had reached to push a branch aside here or there and the rounded shape of her breasts would catch a flash of lightning, or brush against his biceps. It was only natural that he would get aroused by holding her so close.

"Please, don't be embarrassed, Mr Johnstone."

"You can call me Reed," he replied, hoping to sound professional enough to ward off a sexual harassment lawsuit.

"Reed. You are a sexy, sexy man. And I am a woman with a hurt leg but a healthy libido. And I really,

really

want you to turn around again so I can see more of that amazing erection of yours."

Reed stood in silence for several long seconds listening to the battering of the rain against the tin roof, the furious creaking of the wooden tower beneath.

Very slowly he turned once again to face Ivy. Her words had only increased his arousal. But he figured at this point he had nothing to lose.

Ivy's eyes were once again affixed on the wet trousers, and particularly the large protrusion at the front. Her breathing hitched slightly.

"Will you... will you take it out so I can see it?" pleaded Ivy softly.

Reed thought for a moment. He was still soaked from head to toe as was she. The outlines of her breasts were clearly accentuated, and there was no mystery as to the size and shape of her nipples as the wet fabric of her thin sweater clung fast to them.