Ms Arthur says
that when she lived in the city
sometimes
in the middle of the night
she’d hear a fire-engine siren
and she’d imagine
an old man
stuck in an apartment building
with the kitchen on fire
and the man would be coughing and spluttering
with smoke billowing from the open window
and the neighbours,
all in their nighties and pyjamas
would be frantically spraying water
from their garden hoses
even though it would never be enough
and the dogs would start howling
as they heard the siren getting nearer
and the fire truck would screech to a halt outside
and all the men
would grab ropes and ladders
and hoses and extinguishers
and axes to break down the door
and . . .
Everyone in class
is waiting for the end of the story . . .
Ms Arthur shivers a little,
even though it’s blazing hot outside,
and she tells us
she’d stay awake all night
thinking exactly what we’re thinking now.
Did the old man survive?
Did the firemen make it on time?