Chapter Seven - I See Fire

The roar of fire could be heard even from the village. Armed with shovels and flashlights and sticks and headlights they strode the half mile down the dusty road toward the light flickering in the distance.  The excitement was almost tangible.  Beams danced hither and fro as they marched.

The flames lapped the night sky, turning the darkness bright as day.  The crackle and roar was almost deafening.  The fire drew them in, a beckoning.  But then in a moment rose to greater life and power and sent them away; the flames leaping even higher to the sky and the ash and sparks and leaves aflame came hurtling back to the ground in greater numbers.  They retreated in awe to the road.

Once to the road, they waited with feet spread apart, crouching in readiness for the war to begin.  The first of many darted out and was killed in an instant.  Then another, and another!  The rats and mice, driven by the fire from their homes in the sugar cane, escaped to the road only to be met by a crew of Americans and Hondurans both, ready to wage war on the rodent race.  

Raising their shovels and sticks high above their heads man and boy alike shrieked with glee and hollered in victory as mouse after rat after rat after mouse were beaten with sticks and shovels.  A hundred odd rodents perished on that warm January evening.  The young boys returned home grinning in victory, the thrill of war still pulsing through their veins.

The buzzards came the next day.  Black specks circling the blue cloudless sky, they formed a cloud above the rodent-littered road.  The dust covered the bloodstains.  When they finished no sign remained of the battles waged the night before.

The burning continued for nights after that.  One day a field across the street from the village burned during second recess and the kids crowded on the edge of the school courtyard to watch.

Sugar cane is harvested about once a year.  The burning, typically undertaken at night to avoid the scorching heat of day, is a purge.  It rids the cane of its foliage, weeds and pests.  Leaving only the cane behind, it is cut down in the days following and trucked away.  It is a scorching and backbreaking job, but a swift one.  The men, supported by their families with lunches and cold water and meager shade, work quickly.  Within days the only thing left behind is the scorched earth, cane stumps, and memories.