Montag was late for work. Beatty questioned him for what seemed like forever until he decided everything was okay. Montag knew he had to do something soon. Beatty was smart; it would not take him long to figure out that Montag was changing. Hell, he'd probably command them to burn down Clarisse's house if he knew the things she was causing Montag to think.
The firemen got a call about a house full of books they were to burn. It was not a typical burning. This time, an old lady remained at the house. She was the one to start the fire. It was all so wrong, the death of the woman, the death of the books. People had worked hard at writing them, but they no longer remained. A work of art taken off of a wall at a museum, a star taken out of the night sky, a beautiful thing taken away from the eyes of all humanity.
Curse Clarisse and her life-changing qualities. He had been content, or at least thought he was. Well really, he never thought about it at all. He was ignorant and did not worry about things. But now, here he was, wondering why he had to burn books. His whole life had been turned upside down. He knew he could not ignore the feelings inside of him. Sooner or later he would have to do something about them.
When Montag arrived at his house after work, Clarisse was standing on his porch. She was wearing all black, such a change from her usual lightness.
"You have to come with me, Montag."
He knew he should say no.
"It is almost midnight Clarisse, I need to go to sleep. What are you doing up? I am not going to go anywhere with you."
She laughed at him and smiled.
"Montag, say it all you want to, but you will come with me. You know you will. You have to come. This is serious. I know you have so many questions, and you have been so confused. This will be the answer to everything. A new beginning."
She leapt off of his porch and motioned for him to follow her. They walked to her house and stood on her front porch.
"I have to go inside to get the keys. Stay here."
She walked in and said hello to her uncle. Montag strained to hear what he said in response but was unable to distinguish between words. The voice of the uncle sounded so familiar...
Clarisse walked back out and went straight to a car that Montag had neglected to notice. He walked over and sat in the passenger seat.
They drove in silence for quite sometime, until Montag noticed they were no longer on the busy roads. They had somehow managed to end up at the beach. How did he know about beaches? He had never been to one. No one ever goes to the beach. It's too dangerous, they say. Maybe he made a mistake allowing Clarisse to cart him off in the middle of the night to some strange faraway place. After all, she was not even seventeen yet...
She stopped the car outside of a cave. They got out, and she stood there listening to the waves, smiling. She was so beautiful.
"Isn't it grand? I love the beach. Absolutely adore it. Especially at night. Nighttime brings out so many things that are impossible during the day, wouldn't you agree?"
Montag nodded, but he was not really listening to Clarisse. He was overcome with a sense of déjà vu. He had been to this spot before. It was the night after he met the old man in the park. He couldn't remember his name. The old man had told him about a place along the beach where they held some meeting. It was a secret. He told him to go there at night, but he had gone during the day. This was the place where they would meet and read books. He had always meant to come back.