Crisp and blue beneath me, a soft coaling bed glowed. I could feel the rich race of oxygen pushing past, an enveloping caress. Not something special, usually unnoticed, the everyday fact of it, the cushion of life. It sustained us. We burned about our daily business, learning, looking out into the universe, nurturing our children, perfecting our dances.

My place was not an important one. I marked the knots, where damp steamy traps might erupt, disturbing the flame-dance. It was a minor chore. The rare eruptions almost never actually blew out the life of a fire imp, but we had learned to become careful of them. The elders kept track of how deeply into the food bed the blue glow ate these days. Millions of cycles would pass before it coaled out, so life went on, and we danced.

##

Brian sat before the campfire, thinking. I saw him doing this a lot lately. The recent divorce, the bills--I understood the changes that haunted him; hoped this outing would at least relax away some of the tensions that came with all that. I pulled at his shoulder, squatted, and passed him a fresh long-neck.

“Still thinking about Sally?”

Brian stirred, accepted the bottle, and continued gazing into the campfire. “No, just watching the wood burn. I used to like doing that when I was younger. I imagined the flames were little people, leaping about. Ever do that? Just sit and watch it burn?”

“Sure. Practically the only thing about camping I ever liked.” Seemed a little more needed to be added to that, so I said, “The fishing bug bit me late, and Dad never took us to those resort campsites. Just places like this. Wind. Trees. Water and silence.”

Brian fished a green stick out of the nearby kindling, stripped some bark off it. “She wants me to take Andy all next week. I'd like to borrow your truck to move the rest of my stuff into the apartment, if it's okay. Otherwise the kid won't have a place to sleep when he comes down. I don't get off till six, just isn't enough free time between now and then otherwise.”

“Not a problem. Just swing by after work anytime. I'll follow you back in the Chevy. Help you load up.”

“Thanks. I wasn't going to ask, but...”

“Not a problem.”

Brian reached his stick out and poked at the coals. They shifted a bit, and orange sparks spilled up into the quiet night air.

###

It had been thousands of cycles. I was almost due for retirement when the first disaster stuck. There was a shaking and a trembling. The blue flared out in some places, burst high in others. Those caught on the rising blue were the lucky ones. They shot up, rising atop the cerulean bed, growing, undulating in even greater excitement than before. Others were not so lucky. Whole areas lost their blue corona entirely. There, dancers perished by the hundreds. Giant pieces of ash blew out into the air, frightening everyone.

The philosophers bent their efforts to discovering ways to see past the great outer darkness, to delve more deeply into the secrets below the blue. Many formed societies that preached environmental control, blaming the older, faster dancers for over-using resources, blaming the eruptions on them, and lobbyed for controls. For a time afterward, the dance became more moderate, people did what they could. Eventually the blue returned to the scoured areas, the trouble became a forgotten dream, and the dancers flourished again in the ruined wastes. The dance increased...

###

We watched quietly together as the fire died down after from the prodding, then leaped back again, higher than before.

“You could call in. We could stay another day if you want. I'm off all week. Leave early Monday and move some of that junk over before Tuesday. Sally would like that. Give you a head start.”

Brian shook his head. “Can't. Used my sick-time up during the divorce. Anyway, Sally would have to be called about it. If she wasn't expecting us, it could cause more friction. Don't want Andy exposed to more of that. Best just to go in in the evenings. Nice thought, though.”

I finished my beer and we sat staring at the campfire. “Okay. We better put this out and retire then. “I'll get a bucket.”

The stream wasn't far. I scooped the tin pail through the rippling water, coming up about two thirds full, and lugged it back to camp. I looked regretfully at the campfire. An even blue fluttered below flickering yellow licks that twisted and leapt above it, like little imps at a barn-dance.

It was an exceptionally good fire, not too hot, or smoky. It was just starting to burn down into the meat of the quartered logs below. A waste to put it out so soon.

I put the pail down. “Maybe we can do this again after you're settled in. The summer's just starting.

Brian smiled and nodded. “That would be good by me. Almost forgot how relaxing this is. Maybe after mid-July.”

###

Philosophers working endless cycles had reached a breakthrough. My job became suddenly important. It was possible, it turned out, to harness the explosive energy of the knots, to rise above the food-bed, taking slumbering dancers fast enough to create a new blue, up and beyond the world on new food beds. By harnessing the colored burn of certain mineral contaminants, the largest of our philosophers had managed to pierce the darkness, and had found one within reach , if the right sized knot could be found.

I spent hundreds of cycles looking for one, not too deep, with just enough vapor, just the right orientation. Dancers were trained, and carefully set to loosen the knot, prep it, and inhabit it for the terrifying journey. The cycle came, and a countdown started. The coal Banged up into the either, carrying our hope and dreams with it into the great beyond

###

I picked the bucket up and sighed. “Yeah, we'll plan on it.” I upended the bucket over the campfire, which hissed and sputtered. A wood knot banged and shot out from the sputtering remains. I tracked it down and ground it out on the lugs of my boots.

“Goodnight, Brian. See you in the morning.”