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me, had expectations, was interested in my future, even though that future—unfortunately for me—came in the shape of an obsolete cement plant in a remote corner of the country.
    As for Mrs. Randall, she nurtured no dreams for her daughter. Hope could become a stripper, a Pentecostal preacher or a cashier at a McDonald’s—it didn’t make the slightest difference.

13. PLEASE AVOID THE VERBS
TO BE
AND
TO HAVE
    A Friday like so many others, after school.
    The moment I arrived at the Bunker—the nickname that Hope had affectionately given our basement—I switched on the mighty Mac SE and flung my bag down on the floor. It popped open wide enough for a few sheets of paper to spill out, including the instructions for our composition assignment. The topic was rather all-encompassing: “What will the world of tomorrow look like?” Suggested length: 250 words. Please avoid the verbs
to be
and
to have
.
    I thought about Mrs. Michaud’s enthusiasm as sheannounced the guidelines, her face beaming with the certainty that this was a harmless creative exercise. She clearly expected the usual clichés: space tourism, household robots, anti-cancer pills.
    I stared at the monitor for a minute, sighed, and retreated to the couch, where a comic book lay in tatters:
Godzilla King of the Monsters Meets Captain America
. I flipped it open randomly to an ad for Amazing X-Ray Vision Glasses, capable of penetrating solid matter (including women’s clothes) and available at the ridiculous price of $2 USD. Send money order and coupon to Post Box 245, Navajo Creek, Nevada.
    The biggest joke since perpetual motion.
    A draft swept through the room. Hope was entering the Bunker by the back door (she had given up knocking). No doubt coming over to write her composition on the computer. And—surprise—she was carrying an old red sleeping bag under her arm, obviously intending to spend the night. I immediately presumed the worst. She chucked her things in a corner.
    “Have you been following the news?”
    I shook my head—I knew nothing of the latest tremors affecting Nicaraguan domestic politics, the Bank of Tokyo or Lebanon’s groundwater supply. Unimpressed by my attempt at humour, she switched on the television and plunked down beside me. On the screen, an unbelievableevent was unfolding: hundreds of people dancing and hugging on top of what looked to me like an old concrete warehouse.
    Hope turned toward me. Her eyes sparkled electric blue.
    “The Berlin Wall has just come down!”

14.
GRENZMAUER
    In the wake of an amusing slip committed by a high-ranking leader, the GDR had just allowed its citizens to circulate between the East and the West at certain crossings, and was preparing to open the wall at a dozen more locations. We were witnessing a live broadcast of a historic point of no return. Berliners in droves revelled, crossed checkpoints and attacked the wall with whatever tools they had: hammers, sledgehammers and all manner of battering rams. A surge of optimism to warm the heart.
    In front of the Brandenburg Gate, a backhoe sent a section of wall crashing down onto the pavement. The Wall wasn’t falling; it was toppling over, and with mind-boggling ease. So a nudge from a bulldozer was all it took to dispose of this shameful structure? I watched with growing fascination as the Wall collapsed again and again.The Iron Curtain had been slapped together with Gyproc. According to Hope, the truth was actually a lot simpler. It was a wall made of Lego blocks.
    “Lego blocks?”
    “Reinforced concrete Lego blocks, a metre wide and four metres tall, with a T-shaped base. This wall is the fourth generation—the
Grenzmauer 75
model. Architecture that’s modular, grey and efficient.”
    The daily dose of useless information.
    On the TV screen, sections of wall were tumbling at a brisk pace, and I wondered what the Germans planned to do with all those Lego blocks cluttering up Berlin. Hope predicted that the value of a Genuine Fragment