Raging Fire
by
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Eric was puffed out. It was a warm sunny day in Upper Michigan, even with an occasional cold east wind blowing off Lake Superior. Eric was sweating hot. He had started out before dawn to go into town. He had worn a light on his head to show the way in the dark. All went well until the sun came up a few hours later. Now his cross-country skis were sinking into the foot of new fluffy snow that was on top of the old snow. The soft snow was clumping up in the grooves in the bottoms of his skis, the ski binders were catching on the bushes as the skis sank to lower levels, and the heels of his ski boots were slipping on the smooth melting snow accumulating under his heels. Usually Eric took his swift Polaris snowmobile into town, but today it wouldn't start. A series of snowstorms were predicted for the next few days--one storm after another--and Eric needed food, a new typewriter ribbon, and carburetor parts for his snowmobile. Sometimes the twenty miles into town was a pure pleasure trip, but today wasn't one of those days. Eric still had six miles to go, but he was far past the seasonal part of the road. "Seasonal road" in the Upper Peninsula was fancy language for unplowed! It had been easy skiing on the snowmobile path on the unplowed road in the cooler pre-dawn hours, but breaking trail in the snow beyond the top of the snowbanks of the plowed road was difficult, especially with the hot rays of the sun melting the new snow. Eric decided to stop alongside of the plowed road and clean the snow off his skis and ski boots. He skied on until he came to a straight level stretch of road, a relatively safe place to stop. Carefully, he went down the four-foot high snowbank sideways until he reached the plowed road surface. He stuck his ski poles in the snowbank, unsnapped the ski binders that loosened the binders. He stepped out of the binders of the right ski. Using that ski as a tool, he chipped the hardened snow off the heels of his right ski boot and off the bottom of the ski. Then he took off the other ski and repeated the process. Having accomplished this, Eric felt a lot better. He paused to take a breather before continuing on. Then he jumped to the sound of a horn behind him. He was on the edge of the road, but cars tended to slide in the winter, even on straight stretches of road. A new sport utility vehicle pulled up, a forest green Ford Explorer. A cheery feminine voice called out, "Are you out for fun or skiing into town?" Eric looked up. There was a pretty face surrounded by the fake fox fur-edged hood of a white parka. "It's town day for me," replied Eric. "Want a lift into town?" "Sure. That would be great. The snow is really sticky today--not a good time to ski." Early in the morning, Eric heard vehicles. The unexpected sound of engines woke him up. He wondered what was happening. Then he smelled smoke. Search and Rescue people were going camp to camp telling the people about the fire and requesting them to take their most valuable possessions, a change of clothes, a pillow and blanket, and evacuate to Marquette. Eric asked the workers about Tanya's area, and they assured him that her area was safe, so far, that the fire was many miles away and the wind in a direction away from her home. The decision of what to take was simple for Eric with his sparsely furnished cabin. He took his manuscripts and letters, his Bible and a few other books, and his battery radio. He headed out to Red Road and joined the stream of cars heading east toward Lake Superior. * * * Tanya heard the sirens and the engines of the heavy vehicles heading north all night. Tanya's first thought was of Eric. She turned on the radio for information and heard about the fire quite a few miles north of her home, out towards Eric's. No details were given, but an announcement was made that all unauthorized vehicles were to keep off the road going north. She desperately wanted to get to him, but could not. All she could do was pray. In the morning, Tanya saw smoke to the north. She prayed a quick prayer for the safety of Eric and all people and animals that might be affected by the fire. She quickly dressed and drove out to the main road and tried to go to find out if Eric was safe, but the road was still closed to anything except emergency vehicles going north and inbound traffic going south. Tanya turned on the TV for the morning news and saw evacuees arriving at the Superior Dome, the indoor football stadium of Northern Michigan University in Marquette. She grabbed a snack and a small can of orange juice and headed out to her Explorer. She drove to Marquette. Along the way, she thought about Eric. Maybe he no longer loves me, but I love him with all my heart, and I won't rest until he knew he is safe. Parking near the Dome was restricted, so Tanya parked as near as she could and walked the last half-mile. Nobody but the evacuees was allowed inside the Dome, but there was a list of evacuees posted near the entry. Those evacuees on the list were registered and safe. Tanya scanned the list fearfully and then saw Eric's name and whispered a prayer of thanksgiving to God.
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About the Book
Raging Fire
Yet, misunderstandings can cool the romantic connection to the chilly temperatures of Lake Superior.
This book will warm up your heart at any time of the year with its love, humor, and sense of honesty.
The ecology of this wilderness is a sight to behold, but seeing the self-sacrificing love of Tanya and Eric is an even greater gift to all readers.
This story is full of the beauty of nature, the harshness of winter, and the danger of fire--in the forest or within the confines of a person's heart.
Can a forest fire bring Tanya and Eric together or will its flames push them further apart?
About the Author
MARY GOLOVERSIC (author of 18 books) When I was nearing fifty, a three-month experience at a Skid Row mission in Chicago became a turning point in my life. Someone told me that I was believing the lies of Satan from the pit of hell, and then the person showed me how to sort out lies and truths. I began to think--if I, a person who was active in church and was teaching a ladies' Bible study, got deceived by lies, then many other people were being deceived also. I realized that we are not only deceived by the devil, but by other people, by some advertisements and some media, AND by ourselves with our own deceptive thoughts. We are all deceived, but we are all deceivers, too. I began to share this life-changing information with others to guide them to success in all aspects of their lives. Before I realized it, I'd become a writer, so I could share this information worldwide. My writings center around the many forms of love--its meaning, its expressions, its use and misuse. In fact, "love" is in the middle of my long last name, "Goloversic" When we learn to give and receive love in a godly unselfish way, present hatred will dwindle, past hurts will heal, and future hurts will be prevented. Though I never planned to become a writer, all my life I was preparing for it, not realizing how I would use the knowledge and wisdom. Of course, my two college degrees with majors in education and numerous minors in many areas, were useful for writing--the research methods, literature, history, biology. Decades in the teaching field helped me develop techniques for getting my ideas across to people of all ages. Years of studying piano and art for enjoyment enabled me to write songs for the books I write and do the illustrations and photos. Attendance at church services and Bible studies (in person and tuning into Christian radio programs) and extensive Christian counseling guided me to discover Bible truths to battle the lies life brings each of us, and eventually use these Scripture references to back up my written statements in my books. My pastimes of people-watching, taking nature walks, plus traveling throughout the U.S.A, Canada, Mexico and living two years in Spain, provided pictures in my mind that I could turn into words on paper. Marriage and parenting three sons gave me insight into family living. My friends show me the lasting value of true friendship. I probably got part of my imaginativeness from my mom. My tender heart gave me sympathy, but accidents, illnesses, surgeries, and troubles of all sorts gave me empathy. If I hadn't had all these heartbreaking experiences, I would not have become the storyteller that I now am. Without my faith in God, I would have accomplished little, but He gives me the strength to complete the many books; and, through His promises, I have confidence to keep going. He gave me my talents, and I use them to serve him. My sense of humor adds a bit of frosting to the cake of my writing career.