The book was there, and I found it easily.

When I got on line at the cash register, the guy running it was talking with a woman who was obviously passionate about what she was saying. The guy was about 23, fairly good looking, relaxed, and listening neutrally. The woman was about the same age, and had longish, stringy, black hair, glasses and a blue imitation Air Force parka that was much better quality than the one I was wearing. You know the stereotype...standard Boston University undergraduate. I caught the gist of what they were saying quickly. She and a friend had recently had a fire and she thought an arson was to blame. She said, "I only hope I catch him when I have a gun. If I ever see anyone setting a fire, I'll kill him."

"Call the fire department first," I said, cutting in.

"The first thing I'd do," she said, "is kill him. People who burn people out don't deserve to live."

"I heard up in the Italian neighborhood in Boston they killed a guy who was caught setting a fire. They had the whole place set up with people who lived there--watching. When they killed him, all the other fires stopped."

Never mind the killing, I thought. I can imagine your dead man, bleeding, and you standing by in self-righteous vindication. You might even be killing a guilty man who deserves to die. But when there is a fire, people may burn. They should come first.

I tried to say something like that--that our primary responsibility should be to life, not death--but she just said, "Me and my friend ran into the street, and it was cold and horrible. And that's not right."

I paid for my book and left directly. As I walked down Connecticut Avenue, I was lost in myself thinking about arson and killing.

prev

toc

next