MPA Student Work

At the end of Part One of the novel, Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, Grade 10 students were asked to write the next part of the novel before reading on. Here is Amrita Kaur's prediction, followed by Dharma Kaur's:

Beatty was standing outside, listening to Montag’s voice, reading out loud: “It is computed that eleven thousand persons have at several times suffered death rather than submit to break their eggs at the smaller end.”

He had faked to be walking away, but he had stayed. Montag had fallen for it.
He went to the firehouse to call an alarm.

When the firemen returned to Montag’s house, they searched everywhere, but they couldn’t find even a single book. Beatty was not convinced that Montag destroyed all of them. They were hidden somewhere.

But he had no proof, so he took off with the other men. The salamander drove away in the pouring rain.

As soon as they were gone for sure, Montag ran out in the garden to save the books from the rain. He had hid them under a little bush. But they were all soaked. He had no choice but to destroy them. He threw them in the incinerator with a deep sigh.

Beatty watched him carefully the next few days. One night about two weeks after, Montag’s hands couldn’t help but take a book. While shoving it under his jacket, he saw Beatty watch him out of the corner of his eye. He knew that Beatty would burn his house tonight.

Montag got out of the firehouse. It was dark all around, except for the streetlamp across the street. He breathed in the fresh cold evening air.

And then he started running. The book in his hand, he ran as fast as he could.

And he just kept on running.

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Prediction by Dharma Kaur

Montag stayed up all night reading and re-reading, trying to find something that made the least bit of difference. Still he found nothing, he found not one little piece of information that could unravel this mystery, this puzzle that he concocted for himself.

The next morning Montag awoke to the front door, scared, he called to Mildred. “Millie,” he whispered as not to be heard by whoever was at the front door.

“Millie!” Again there was no answer. “Millie, please answer me”.

“What?” She calls, annoyed at his secretive, nervous behavior.

“The door, there is someone at the door.” He looks at the books, then the door, then back at the books. “What should we do?” Mildred just sat in the living room staring at the walls. Quickly Montag took the books and shoved them into his secret hiding place in the air conditioning vent. “Millie answer the door.”

“Hello, what do you want?” Montag heard. “No, my husband isn’t here right now, you can come back a little later and maybe he will be back.” He felt the weight lift off his shoulders for a fraction of a second but then realized in a panic, what will I do if they come back?

Montag sat for a second listening to the aunts jabbering away in the parlor, who will help me? Who can give me a clue to what I can do? He than remembered the old man he met in the park. He ran to the phone and called the professor. “Hello this is Guy Montag”.

“What do you want?” said Faber.

“I need your help; I need you to answer some questions for me.”

There was no answer for awhile but than slowly Faber said “Okay I will meet you in the park.”

When Montag got to the park the old man had been sitting there for quite sometime, it seemed. He had made himself comfortable, but when he saw Montag he seemed to tense up. “Hello, what can I help you with?” he asked.

“Well” said Montag “I want to ask you about books”. As Montag said this the man seemed to slowly edge away as if Montag was a snake waiting to attack. “No, don’t worry” Montag was desperate and didn’t want Faber to leave. “I won’t report you or what we talk about I just have some unanswered questions.”
The professor stopped “You?” he said, puzzled. “Okay sit down.” Montag took a seat relieved that Faber had not run away. “What do you want to know?”

“What can I do to break free from the parlor walls and bring back the books and the old ways?”

Faber sat for a moment pondering Montag’s question. “Well, we need a plan.”

Montag walked to the firehouse and on his way he thought about everything. Himself, Faber, Millie, Clarisse, The hound, Beatty, Faber, Millie, Clarisse, The hound, Beatty, Millie, Clarisse, The hound, Beatty, Clarisse, The hound, Beatty.

Could we really bring the books back? Focused on their plan, he realized there was a chance but everything had to go perfectly.

As he walked into the firehouse, he saw the hound sleeping in its kennel, eyes glowing. “That’s the first thing that’s gonna go” he whispered to himself. Tiptoeing through the deserted rooms he finally came to the truck, the Salamander. Montag lifted the hose and unhooked it from the kerosene tanks. Carrying the hose and the tanks he made his way back to the hound. As he came into the room a wisp of green light was visible at the corner of his eye. Montag was on a mission. He paid no attention to the hound making its way closer and closer to its prey. Before it reached him, Montag rehooked the hose to the kerosene tanks and turned it on. As the hound extended its morphine needle towards him, he turned around and as expertly as any fireman could, he let the kerosene pump through the hose. He suddenly felt terrible. The old feeling of happiness and of being in control, when he had the hose in his hand, was now lost to him. As quickly as he could he finished the job. Taking a match from the box in the corner he lit it with one small flick of his wrist.

Montag could smell the kerosene burning as he left the station. Without looking back he left all he had known for ten years consumed in flame, burning to the ground. All he could think of as he walked away was Clarisse asking him “Are you happy?” now without any hesitation, walking down the street in the light of the moon he could give her an honest answer.