Bob glanced at the clock as he reached for the phone. “Hello,” he sleepily grunted.
          “Sir,” the voice said, “you don’t know me ...”
          “Is this a crank call,” Bob growled “at 2:30 in the morning?”
          Shirley propped herself up, “Who is it, Bob?”
          “Just some crank guy calling at 2:30 in the morning.”
          “Well, just hang up dear, and go back to sleep.”
          “Sir,” the voice said again, “please listen to me ... I was driving by your house, just a few minutes ago. Sir, I headed straight for a phone booth to call the fire department. I noticed that your detached garage is on fire inside. I got your name off your mail box and looked it up in the phone directory. I’m at a phone booth now, and have already called the fire department ... they’re on the way to you now. Sir, would you please wake up your family and get out of your house before the fire spreads to you?”
          “Listen, if this is a joke ...”
          “Sir, it’s no joke. Please get your family and get out of your house ... now ... sir! I can’t help you by staying on the line ... you’ve got to move now sir ... and I’m hanging up so you can get moving.”
          There was a click and dead silence on the line.
          “What was that all about dear ... and at 2:30 in the morning.”
          Bob thought for a moment. “It was either a cruel hoax, or someone trying to save our lives. Everything in me wants to forget that call and get back into this comfortable bed and go to sleep and wake up in the morning and hope it was a bad dream. But ... Shirley, I’ve got to make a decision, now, so don’t ask any questions. I’ll explain later. Grab your robe, get the kids downstairs ... nothing else ... and head for the sidewalk across the street.”
          “But, honey ...”
          “Trust me Shirley ... we’ve got to move fast. The wind is blowing towards the house from the garage, and if that caller is right, we don’t have much time before our house is on fire.”
          He swung out of bed and headed for the bedroom door.
          “Where are you going, Bob?”
          “I’m going to get the kids ... you get the rest of the kids from downstairs and head for the street ... come on Shirley, get moving, honey!”
          She grabbed her robe, “I hope you know what you’re doing!”
          They heard the sound of the sirens at the same time they began to smell the smoke.
          “Let’s move!” Bob cried out.
          Later, from across the street, they watched as the fire hoses wet down their house to keep the jumping flames from the garage engulfing it.
          “You folks sure were wise to get out of the house so fast ... and by the way ... you called us in time for us to completely save your house from burning up. Your garage is another story, however.” The Fire Marshall queried them for awhile and filled out some forms, then said, “You can go back to your home, folks, it’s OK.”

          Sir, or ma’am ... you don’t know me ... but ... please listen to me ... please wake up ... you and your family may be in great danger ...