text: “By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire, and the wind had picked up,” Annie Arthur said. “Catherine and Blake Bevins lived in that house you know. They moved in here in November, nineteen eighty-seven...no, eighty-eight. It was raining the day the Bevins family moved into our little community. I baked them a welcome cake as soon as I saw the moving van pull into the drive. It was one of my famous chocolate cakes, with buttercream icing. I have never met anyone who didn’t enjoy one of my homemade chocolate cakes,” Annie said. “They took the cake but they did not thank me and they never returned my plate. That is not right. You expect boorish behavior from young people who don’t always follow social norms, I suppose. But Catherine and Blake were middle-aged when they moved in next door. They were old enough to know how to follow the rules, which they did not. I am not passing judgement, mind you, I’m just stating facts. The fact is, I told them there was a city ordinance against leaf burning. The ordinance was instated in August of ’87.” Annie smiled at Officer Wilkes. “You were probably toddling around in diapers back then, but your partner will remember all the hoopla over the decision. There was talk, for months, about the city stripping us citizens of our “rights”. Annie shook her head. “Foolishness is it was. Plain and simple. Leaf burning was dangerous and not a bit good for the environment. Remember how folks carried on, Officer...” Annie leaned forward, squinting at the officer’s nametag. “Parker? Officer Parker? Are you any relation to Elana Parker?” “Elana Parker is,” he shrugged, and gave a small shake of his head. “Elena Parker was my mother ma’am.” Annie recoiled as though the big man had slapped her. She pressed one hand to her chest and reached for the officer’s hand with the other. “Do not tell me Elana has passed on.” Officer Parker nodded, “It was two years in May ma’am. Cancer. Now, about your report of a fire...” “Oh dear. I had no idea about your mother. Elena and I attended school together, West Lake Elementary, and then West Lake High. She was a lovely girl. We lost track of one another, as people will do.” “Yes ma’am,” Officer Parker said again. “About the fire...” “I told Catherine and Blake that burning leaves was not permitted. I saw them raking all afternoon, on the day of the fire. I heard them too. They made such a racket out there all year round. It didn’t matter if it was hot or cold, rain or shine, they were out in that yard of theirs, making a ruckus. They talked about installing a pool, but I told them there was an ordinance against pools. I’m sure they didn’t take my word for it, but I know they were angry when they learned I’d been right. So, they bought a child’s wading pool, if you can imagine. A grown couple splashing around in a child’s wading pool. Those two thumbed their noses at authority every chance they got. It was shameful, the way they carried on.” “Miss Arthur,” Officer Wilkes said. “If we could just focus on the fire...” “There is no need to be rude, young man.” Annie said, testily. “And it’s Mrs. Arthur. I was married to my Henry, for fifty-eight wonderful years. Henry passed away five years ago.” she looked at Officer Parker. “Henry had cancer too. Though, surely not the same as your mother’s. Henry’s cancer was,” she glanced down and whispered, “in his privates, poor soul.” “You have my condolences, ma’am,” Officer Parker said. Annie raised her head and nodded. “We never had children. We wanted them, but we weren’t blessed in that way. I overheard a couple of the ladies in my church circle talking about my Henry just after he passed. That old busybody, Millie Post, had the nerve to suggest Henry’s cancer was the reason we never had children. Can you imagine gossiping about such thing? Unchristian, it was. I quit that church that instant. Removed my apron and walked out of Fellowship hall and never went back. When Pastor Upton called, to inquire after my health, I told him my health and my soul were no longer any of his concern.” “Mrs. Arthur--” “Oh, young man, I wouldn’t mind in the least if you called me Annie.” She smiled sadly. “There are so few people left, anymore, who call me by my given name. A person needs to hear someone call them by name every now and then, don’t you agree.” “Annie,” said Officer Parker, patiently. “We would like to talk to you about the fire you reported.” “Yes,” Annie said. “I told Chief Cummings I heard strange noises and ‘ by the time I stepped outside the leaves were on fire ’. He took me at my word. We talked about how times had changed; how leaf burning had been an autumn ritual for most of our lives, about what a nice job Henry did building our burn pit and what a shame it was that such a well-built pit would not be of any further use. Of course, once the ordinance passed, we stopped burning leaves and packed them up properly, in bags we dragged to the curb. That’s what folks who followed the rules did.” “Yes, ma’am,” Officer Parker said. “You’re suggesting there was a fire on the lot next to yours. On the west side of your house. That would be--” “Don’t be condescending, young man. I know where the west side of my house is. That’s the side with the empty lot.” “Correct, Mrs.--Annie,” Officer Wilkes said. “There is an empty lot next to your house. There hasn’t been a structure on that land in years, so you can understand our confusion over your call reporting a house fire at that location.” “The fire in question occurred in 1997. Catherine and Blake were inside the house, sleeping when the fire started,” Annie said. Officer Parker said. “It seems the couple how lived there had been burning leaves, that afternoon, and that evening, the wind picked up and blew embers up onto the roof. It had been an especially dry year, and the roof caught fire.” Annie nodded. “It’s a shame those two were not better neighbors.” “You had issues with the Bevins family?” Officer Parker asked. “Yes, as I’ve been telling you,” Annie said. “They were rule breakers.” “And that caused friction between you?” asked Officer Parker. “Henry was the peacemaker,” Annie said. “But Henry is gone now and there is no peace to be made. I have no children. I’m estranged from my church family and far too old to establish new relationships. Everyone I ever knew and cared about has passed on and I’ve received this,” she reached into her handbag and took out an envelope addressed to Anya Arthyr. Officer Parker took the notice and read it. “Your home has been condemned, Annie.” he said, grimly. “The city inspector says it’s structurally unsound and not safe for you to live there any longer.” Annie nodded. “The city sends me a letter saying they are taking away my home, and they don’t even bother to spell my name properly. Do you think that’s right?” she asked. “No, ma’am, I don’t,” said Officer Parker. “We can direct you to Social Services, someone there will be able to help you.” “Oh no, that won’t be necessary,” Annie said. “I am 83 years old; it’s time I face the music.” “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” said Officer Wilkes. “I lit the fire that burned down the Bevins house,” Annie said. “I did it to teach them a lesson, not that I’m excusing my behavior. I heard them talking, while they were raking leaves. They were supposed to go out of town that night. They raked the leaves into big piles, instead of bagging the leaves they way they were supposed to. They laughed about how they were going to show me where I could stick my ‘ordinances’ . They said they were going to light the piles before they left town. Catherine said she was sorry they wouldn’t be there to see the look on my snoopy old face when the fires took hold. Blake said it would be a real tragedy if the wind picked up and blew embers into my yard. Well sir, must admit, that got my dander up. So, after Henry went to bed, I went outside and lit the leaf piles myself. I can’t say I meant for the house to catch fire, but I can’t say I’m sorry it did. The fact that the Chief did a poor job of inspecting the scene does not mean a crime was not committed.” “You are confessing to the crime of setting your neighbors leaf piles on fire?” asked Officer Wilkes. “Yes young man” Annie said. She stood and held out both hands. “Time has robbed me of my loved ones and the city is taking my home. I have no family or friends to care for me, and what little money Henry left me is gone. I’ve confessed to the crimes of arson and homicide, you have no choice but to arrest and imprison me.” “Your confession will need to be investigated,” Officer Parker said. "As of now, we have no proof a crime was committed." “You have no proof that a crime was not committed,” Annie countered. “I am not a liar, but I lied to Chief Cummings. The truth is, when I stepped outside, the leaves were not on fire.”