The Great Central City 7th Grade Science Fair
Jeffers crouched down to examine the object on the table. It was a small cylinder, perhaps five inches long, festooned with an intricate array of wires, and held together with miniscule nuts and bolts, the kind one could by in a hobby store to construct those radio controlled racing cars, or maybe the kind you used to find in an erector set. A single red LED glowed at one end of the thing, which sat on a tiny black velvet pillow.
And that was all.
Jeffers was at a loss, and turned to the smiling Mrs. Bricker and raised one eyebrow. The plumb little woman sensed his confusion, and laughed softly. “You never were very good with these science fairs, were you, Hank?” A sudden, powerful image of Andy Anderson beating him to the blue ribbon when he was about young Timmy’s age, and right here in this very auditorium, flashed painfully past his mind, but he was nothing if not in control of his emotions, and smiled and laughed himself. Ah, but just wait until later, Mrs. Bricker, he thought to himself. Two can play the public humiliation game. This will be in front of your whole 3rd period class if you keep it up. And you wont like it. But out loud, he said “I think Timmy should tell me in his – well, in his own words what his project is. Timmy?”
“Give you a hint! You know how I’ve been collecting wheel weights from the gas station, Mr. Jeffers? It took me almost all of last summer an’ most of this year to do that. That’s part of it.”
“Wheel weights are made of lead, right? What are you getting at, young man?”
“You know,” Mrs. Bricker interjected, “for his workshop.” Timmy added “And my mom even gave me her old food processor. I had to have that!”
“And this – well, this little cylinder is – is this it? What the devil is it?”
“Got the idea from that team-taught class, Mr. Jeffers,” Timmy replied quickly. “The AP one.”
Just then, Mr. Sweeny came walking up with his clipboard. Jeffers noticed that the room was considerably more quiet, and realized that Sweeny, as head judge, had been disqualifying most of the projects while he had been trapped in this damned confusing conversation. “What ho, Sweeny. How is the judging going?” he asked a bit too quickly, hopeful that this would soon be over.
Latest Articles