Read Fire, The for Free Online

storage shed, even if that someone might be his great-great-grandfather.
    Convinced he had not aroused the suspicions of anyone in the vicinity, Kevin stepped away from the chamber of stones and took a closer look at the estate. He could see from the leaves on the trees that summer had come to the Silver Valley. He could tell it was summer by the warmth of the air and tell that this particular summer was further along than the one he had left. It was hotter and, from the appearance of the vegetables in the gardens, drier too.
    Something else was different as well. He hadn't noticed it at first, but he noticed it now. There was smoke in the air. Though it didn't rise to health-hazard levels, it was definitely annoying. It was the kind of smoke that brought smiles to the faces of kids in campgrounds but frowns to the faces of firefighters who knew how quickly campground embers could turn into hellish infernos.
    Kevin knew he could have picked a safer year. By choosing 1909, he could have visited the Great Fire era without risking the Great Fire itself. But he assumed that the time portal was an apples-to-apples kind of device that would send him to June 21, 1910, and not a later date. From what he had remembered of Walt's Walking Tour, the fire had flared up in August.
    Kevin had no way of knowing for sure that he had arrived in 1910, a year he had selected out of simple curiosity. For all he knew, he could be in 1909 or 1931 or 1895. The neighborhood looked like a scene from 1910, but confirmation would require venturing beyond the withered tomato plants in the back of the Johnson estate. After giving the matter a little more thought, he decided to continue. As long as he stayed out of trouble, he'd be all right.
    The time traveler checked the windows again for onlookers. Seeing none, he walked around the side of the house. When he reached a U-shaped driveway in front, he saw not a Volkswagen powered by 150 horses but rather a surrey wagon that was probably powered by two horses. When Kevin drew closer, he saw the words MAY & JOHNSON VENTURES and a three-digit telephone number painted on one side. He had little doubt that he had traveled at least to 1910.
    Gazing at an indigo sky, he saw a full moon rise just above the eastern horizon. It was a good sign. He had forgotten that passage through the chamber was possible only in the light of a solstice sun or the shadow of the fullest moon. Under different circumstances, he might have to wait weeks to return to the future.
    Kevin heard noises and walked three blocks east on Garnet Street to a vacant lot. The lot, located between two unimpressive homes, offered an unrestricted view of the downtown core.
    He gazed into the distance and saw an eastbound train pull away from a chateau-style depot. Black smoke poured from a locomotive that seemed torn from the pages of a history text.
    Kevin then turned to the streets below and saw an abundance of human activity. Men in suits and hats and women in long dresses walked in and out of buildings with brightly lit exteriors. Music streamed out of one building, loud voices out of another. Two men, visibly drunk, sang to each other as they stumbled out of a saloon. The weekend had come to Wallace.
    Kevin gave serious thought to jumping in. He could imagine bellying up to a bar and discussing labor practices with a group of crusty miners or sitting at a table and watching a burlesque show when burlesque was in its heyday. He could imagine the fun he could have in this real-life historical museum. He could imagine impressing a date .
    He could not, however, imagine spelling MMXIII in the fast-approaching night. He hadn't brought a flashlight or matches into the past and didn't want to insult the stone-temple gods with an amateurish display. Getting back to 2013 trumped a hot time in this grand old town.
    Kevin glanced at the setting sun and then at his analog watch and decided to give himself fifteen more minutes. He figured that fifteen minutes