The Fort Before Two

The clock in the break room said 12:40. Sigrid looked at it and groaned.

"The children come at two," she said. "We have eighty minutes."

Hamza stood in the middle of the room. He held one pillow. "Where are the others?" he asked.

"The town hall forgot to send them," said Sigrid. "I brought nine from home."

"Nine pillows make a very small fort."

"Nine pillows make a very small hat." She put one on his head. "We need sixty."

Hamza took the pillow off. "Why did we say yes to this?"

"The manager asked us nicely."

"I said yes because she promised us a free lunch."

Sigrid laughed. "Then we must finish. No fort, no lunch."

It was Family Day at the bus depot. Every year, the drivers showed children the big buses. This year, the manager wanted something new. She wanted a quiet fort in the break room. It had books and soft light. The children could rest there after the noisy engines. She gave the job to Sigrid and Hamza. They had the same long break.

"Right," said Hamza. "A fort needs walls. Let us make walls."

They put the nine pillows in a circle. Then they added the sofa cushions. There were six of them. Fifteen cushions made a low ring. It was as high as a sleeping dog.

"This is not a fort," said Sigrid. "It is a pillow puddle."

"Then we need a bigger puddle." Hamza stacked the cushions higher. The wall wobbled. He leaned on it to hold it. The whole wall fell on top of him.

Sigrid laughed so hard that she had to sit down. Then she looked at the clock again. It said 12:55.

"I will ask the other drivers for pillows," said Hamza. He ran out to the yard.

He came back ten minutes later. He had no pillows. A man in the yard gave him a strange look.

"Nobody has spare pillows," he said. "All the drivers are out on their routes."

"Of course they are. That is their job."

Hamza dropped onto the sofa. Sigrid did not look at him. She looked at the room. It was a plain room. It had a long table and six chairs. It also had a row of tall lockers. Two big cardboard boxes stood in the corner. They came with the new coffee machine. A grey blanket lay on top of the first-aid cupboard.

"Hamza," she said slowly. "We have this all wrong."

"I know. Next year, we say no."

"Not that. We used pillows for the walls, and pillows make bad walls." She pointed around the room. "Pillows make a good floor. We need walls from something else."

Hamza sat up. "What else is a wall?"

"A table. A locker. A box."

He looked at the long table. Then he smiled. "What time is it?"

"Five past one. We have fifty-five minutes."

"Then let us move!"

They turned the long table on its side. It made a wall as high as Sigrid's shoulder. The lockers already stood against the back of the room. They made a second wall for free. Hamza opened the two big boxes and taped them together. That made a third wall. Sigrid cut a small door in it.

"Where is the roof?" asked Hamza.

Sigrid held up the grey blanket. "Here. And my coat. And yours."

"Not my coat. It is my best coat."

"It is your only coat." She took it anyway.

They tied the blanket to the table and to a locker door. Two broom handles held up the middle. The roof sagged a little, but it stayed up.

At 1:30, they started on the floor. They laid all nine pillows down in a thick layer. They put the sofa cushions on top. The floor looked like a soft white cloud. Then Hamza found a string of small lights in the cupboard. He hung it inside the roof and plugged it in. The whole fort glowed.

Sigrid crawled in through the small door. She lay on her back and looked at the lights. "It is perfect," she said. "I could sleep here until Friday."

"Do not sleep," said Hamza. "It is 1:50."

"Ten minutes!" She came out fast. "The books! Where are the books?"

They ran to the shelf by the window. They took twenty picture books. They put them in a box inside the fort. At 1:58, the roof dropped on one side. Hamza held it up with his head. Sigrid pushed a chair under it, but the chair was too short. At 1:59, Hamza's head was still the roof.

"Do not move," whispered Sigrid.

"I cannot move," whispered Hamza. "My head is the roof."

The door opened at exactly two o'clock. Twelve children ran into the room, and the manager came behind them. They all stopped in front of the fort. For a long moment, nobody spoke.

Then a small boy pointed. "Is it a house?"

"It is a fort," said Hamza, from under the roof. "You can read inside."

The children crawled in one by one. Soon the fort was full of bright eyes and loud whispers.

"It is bigger inside than outside," said a girl.

"That is how a good fort works," said Sigrid.

The manager stood by the walls and looked at them. She looked at the boxes and the lockers. She looked at the long table on its side. Then she looked at Hamza's head under the roof.

"Where are the sixty pillows from the town hall?" she asked.

"They never came," said Sigrid. "Our nine pillows hold up the whole floor."

"And the walls?"

"Lockers, boxes and one table," said Hamza. "The table is not happy about it."

The manager laughed. She got down on her knees. She looked in through the small door. "May I come in?"

"No," said a small voice. "Shoes off first. That is the rule."

"Whose rule?"

"Ours," said the girl in the back. "We made it."

The manager looked at Sigrid. Sigrid looked at the ceiling. Then the manager took off her shoes and crawled in.

Hamza leaned close to Sigrid. "I came here eleven years ago," he whispered. "Nobody ever made her take off her shoes."

"Twelve children did it in twelve seconds," said Sigrid.

Hamza smiled. "Next year, let us ask them to run the depot."