Cassie the firefighter and the little owl

At the Maple Vale fire station, at night, there were only two sounds: the clock in the hallway and Sergeant Barnes's snoring. Cassie, the youngest firefighter, wasn't asleep yet. She was polishing the big red fire engine with a soft cloth, rub, rub, and the chrome showed her own round face back to her.

BRRRRING! The bell made the windows rattle. In forty seconds, everyone was up. The trousers and boots were waiting by the engine, lined up in a row, and Cassie pulled hers on in one smooth move. "An owl stuck on the bakery roof," the chief announced as he hung up. "It's been squeaking for an hour."

The fire engine rolled through the empty streets. No siren, so the children wouldn't wake up: only the blue lights turning on the house fronts, silent, round and round. Cats lifted their heads as it passed.

In front of the bakery, Mr Arnold was waiting in his white apron, flour up to his elbows. He had already lit the oven, as he did every day at that hour. "She's up there," he said, pointing at the gutter. "And the nest must be in the old lime tree next door."

They unfolded the ladder. It rose with a purr, zzzzz, rung after rung. "Cassie, you're the lightest," said Barnes. "Go slowly."

Cassie climbed. At the very top, in the gutter, sat a little ball of grey feathers with two big round eyes. The owlet puffed up and hissed. Cassie stopped, stayed perfectly still, and spoke very low: "My name is Cassie. I won't hurt you." She laid her glove in the gutter. The owlet hesitated, tilted its head, then climbed on, its tiny claws gripping the leather.

In the lime tree, a dark hole opened in the trunk. Cassie slid the owlet inside, gently, the way you set down an egg. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, in the dark, someone answered: "Hoo-hoo." A deep hoo-hoo, much bigger than the little one's squeak. The squeaking stopped.

When she came back down, Mr Arnold had taken a tray of warm croissants out of the oven. The firefighters ate them sitting on the engine's bumper while the sky turned from black to grey. The melted butter warmed Cassie's fingers through her gloves.

Back at the station, she washed her hands, folded her clothes and slipped into her narrow bed. She still smelled of bread. Through the half-open window, far away, a hoo-hoo. Cassie turned over, nose in the pillow, and the second hoo-hoo she didn't hear at all.