Where there's smoke...

there may or may not be fire, but something's up.

Fire seems to be a theme this week. I got home late on Wednesday night. It was dark and steaming hot. You could almost see the humidity in the air. But there was more than steamy heat hanging in the air on this block of Marshfield Avenue. Down in the middle of the block, smoke was pouring out of the house that's been trouble since June.

Yup-yup spotted me as I got off my bike in the yard. "Miss Maritza!" he called.

"What IS that down there?" I inquired.

"That's not smoke," he assured me. "That's just steam."

Sure it is. I'll believe that when your eyes are not wide and red and you're not twitching.

After Yup-yup departed, I started walking down the block to see what was going on. Julian and a friend of his were biking up the block, so I walked back to my house before getting a real sense of anything.

As I was getting the mail out of the mailbox, Julian came alongside my front steps and said quietly, "That smoke stinks. Do you think they are making drugs in there?"

"I don't know, but they might be," I said in a low voice. "I'll go in the house and call 911."

They sent three fire trucks and a police car. I don't know if they arrested anyone or what happened. But it was gratifying to have a quick response to a call, for once.