Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9 MONDAY, OCTOBER 9 12:15 A.M. THE SOUTH SIDE OF CHICAGO. HEADING NORTH They left Jennie and Bruno's burning neighborhood behind and headed north. Oscar kept looking over his shoulder at that giant orange glow bleeding through the sky. The main fire was huge now, Oscar could see, and it was spreading fast. And the wind was carrying sparks all over the city. Everywhere Oscar looked, he saw new fires burning. Some fires were very small — a ribbon of flame waving from a tree, a pile of garbage glowing like a campfire.

But there were burning houses everywhere, and in places, the smoke was so thick that they had to gasp for breath. But Oscar's gasps also came from what was happening all around them: people sobbing and screaming, horses driven crazy by the heat and sparks, stray dogs howling in fear. Even the rats were running for their lives, rushing out from under the wooden sidewalks and getting squashed under the wheels of the wagons and buggies that plowed through the streets. The crowds got bigger as they moved north. Many people were dragging trunks and suitcases, or struggling with heavy sacks heaved over their shoulders. Two women in nightgowns carried a mattress above their heads. On top was a very old man, curled up under a quilt. The fires turned the night as bright as day, lighting up the terrified faces all around Oscar — the tearstained cheeks, the mouths open in horror, the wide-open eyes looking up at the sky. But the worst part was the howling wind, which seemed to be getting stronger by the minute. Each hot gust was filled with dust and smoke, and spit

out millions of embers and sparks. One burned a hole clear through the toe of Oscar's boot. Oscar passed a woman just as her skirts erupted into flames. Luckily the man next to her had a canteen of water, and quickly drenched her. The sparks were terrible for Oscar and Jennie, but they tortured poor Bruno. "Hot! Hot!" he kept saying, trying to bury his face in Oscar's neck. Finally Jennie spotted an overturned wheelbarrow with a heap of clothes spilling out. She snatched a lady's hat, its purple velvet smudged with dirt, the wide brim crushed. "I don't think anyone will miss this," she said. She put it on Bruno's head, a perfect helmet to protect his curls. She kept her eyes on Oscar, swatting away embers that came too close to his face or smoldered on his clothes. Oscar was getting the idea that there wasn't much Jennie couldn't take care of. They came to a corner where a crowd of people had stopped to watch a grand brick building burn. Oscar and Jennie tried to push their way through, but they were completely hemmed in.

And then, suddenly, the clanging of bells rose above the roar of the fire. "Fire department!" someone shouted. People jumped out of the way as two steam pumper wagons came tearing around the corner, each pulled by two sweating horses. A hose wagon followed. Oscar's heart lifted a bit. He remembered what Mr. Morrow had told them, that Chicago had the best fire department in the world. And here was their chance to prove it. Maybe they could save at least part of the city. People in the crowd watched hopefully as about fifteen firefighters hopped off the wagons and got to work, readying the pumper and uncoiling the heavy canvas hoses. In Castle, there was no fire department or pumper engines. When a fire broke out, people had to rely on themselves and their neighbors. During the big fire, a flurry of sparks had ignited the roof of oscar's barn. Within minutes, thirty people had rushed to their farm ready to help. They grabbed every bucket and jug they could find and formed a bucket brigade,

Mama and two other women had stood at the well, filling the buckets as fast as they could. Everyone else lined up, forming a human chain that led from the well to the barn. Oscar stood on

the line, passing sloshing buckets of cold water toward the fire. It was amazing how those heavy buckets flew across the chain of hands, how the splashes of water tamed the flames. Oscar had kept going even after his arms were numb with pain. It had taken an hour, but they'd put the fire out. The roof of the barn was burned through, but the rest of the building still stood. Oscar would never forget how happy he felt when the last of the flames fizzled out, as if he'd helped slay a monster. He watched now as the firefighters dragged the heavy coils over to the burning buildings, screaming at people in the crowd to stand back as the pumper engines roared and water pulsed into the hoses. Like soldiers in battle, the men aimed their hoses. Cheers rose up from the crowd as thick, powerful sprays of water blasted up at the flames. Very quickly Oscar realized that the firefighters didn't stand a chance. The fire was too big and too hot. The water hissed as it got close to the flames, and then boiled away into puffs of steam. With