Морган Райс - The Magic Factory

“What about hot air balloons?” a voice challenged from behind. “They don’t work that way at all, but they still fly.”

Oliver turned in his seat, searching for the owner of the voice. It was a grumpy-looking kid—dark, bushy eyebrows, dimpled chin—who had joined Paul in throwing the paper balls.

“Well, that’s a completely different law at play,” Oliver explained. “That works because hot air rises. The Montgolfier brothers, who invented the hot air balloon, realized that if you trap the air inside some kind of envelope, like a balloon, it becomes buoyant due to the lower density of hot air inside compared to cold air outside.”

The boy just looked more angry at Oliver’s explanation. “Well, what about rockets?” he challenged further. “They’re not buoyant or whatever you just said. They go up, though. And they fly. How does that work, smarty pants?”

Oliver just smiled. “That comes back to Isaac Newton’s third law of motion again. Only this time the force involved is propulsion, not lift. Propulsion is the same thing that moves a steam train. A big blast out one end produces an opposite reaction of propulsion. Only with a rocket it’s got to get all the way to space, so the blast has to be really massive.”

Oliver could feel himself growing excited as he spoke about these things. Even though all the kids were staring at him like he was a freak, he didn’t care.

He turned back in his seat to face the front. There, smiling proudly, stood Ms. Belfry.

“And do you know what all these inventors had in common?” she said. “The Montgolfiers and the Wrights and Robert Goddard, who launched the first liquid-propellant-fueled rocket? I’ll tell you what. They did things they’d been told were impossible! Their inventions were crazy. Imagine someone saying that we could use the same principles of ancient Chinese catapults to launch a man into space! And yet they became groundbreaking inventors, whose inventions have changed the world, and the whole trajectory of humankind!”

Oliver knew she was speaking to him, telling him that no matter what people did or said, he should never be cowed into silence.

Then something remarkable happened. In response to Ms. Belfry’s passion and enthusiasm, the class fell into stunned silence. It wasn’t the tense silence of a poised attack, but the humbled silence of having learned something inspiring.

Oliver felt a swell in his stomach. Ms. Belfry really was the most awesome teacher. She was the only person who’d shown anywhere near the level of excitement he had for physics and science and inventors, and her excitement even managed to silence his rowdy classmates, if only temporarily.

Just then, a huge gust of wind made the window panes rattle. Everyone jumped in unison and turned their eyes toward the gray skies outside.

“Looks like the storm is going to hit soon,” Ms. Belfry said.

No sooner had she spoken, than the voice of the principal came over the speaker.

“Students, we’ve just received a warning from the National Weather Service. This is going to be the storm of the century, the likes of which we’ve never seen before. We really don’t know what to expect. So to be on the safe side, the mayor is canceling classes for the day.”

Everyone started shouting excitedly and Oliver strained to hear the final words of the principal’s announcement.

“The storm is due to hit within the next hour. There are buses outside. Please head straight home. The official warning is to not be outside when the storm hits in approximately one hour. This is a city-wide warning so your parents will be expecting you home. Anyone caught truanting will face suspension.”

Around Oliver, no one seemed to care. All they’d heard was that school was out and they were going to make the most of it. They grabbed their books and hurried out of the classroom like a stampede of buffaloes.

Oliver collected his own things more slowly.

“You did great today,” Ms. Belfry told him as she placed all of her little models into her bag. “Are you okay getting home?” She looked concerned about his welfare.

Oliver nodded to reassure her. “I’ll get the bus with everyone else,” he said, realizing as he did that that might mean enduring a journey with Chris. He shuddered.

Oliver swung the strap of his backpack over his shoulder and followed the rest of the school kids outside. The sky was so dark, it was practically black. It felt very ominous.

Head bowed, Oliver started walking toward the bus stop. But just then, he caught sight of something behind him, something far more scary than a black tropical storm cloud: Chris. And running alongside him were his cronies.

Oliver turned and bolted. He headed straight toward the first bus in the queue. The bus was crammed with kids and clearly ready to leave. Not even checking to see where it was going, Oliver threw himself onboard.

Just in time as well. The mechanism hissed and the door shut behind him. A split second later, Chris appeared on the other side, glowering menacingly. His cronies drew up beside him and they all glared at Oliver through the door, which was really nothing more than a thin shield of protective glass.

The bus set off, moving Oliver away from their fierce faces.

He peered out the window as the bus moved away and began picking up speed. To Oliver’s dismay, Chris and his cronies barged their way straight onto the bus waiting behind. It, too, pulled away from school, following closely.

Oliver gulped with dread. With Chris and his friends just one bus behind, he knew that if they saw him get off, they would too. Then they’d pounce and he’d be in for a pummeling. He chewed his lip with worry, not knowing what to do next. If only his invisibility coat really existed. Now was the time to use it!

With a huge crack, the sky seemed to open. Rain cascaded down and lightning streaked across the sky. So much for an hour before it hit, Oliver thought. The storm was already upon them.

The bus wove perilously along the road. Oliver gripped the metal pole and bumped shoulders with the kids standing around him. Things had gone from feeling ominous to feeling suddenly quite scary.

Another bolt of lightning jagged across the sky. Kids on the bus yelped out in fear.

Oliver realized then that perhaps he could use the storm to his advantage. Since getting off at his own stop was out of the question with Chris’s cronies watching on, he’d have to get off unexpectedly. Blend in with the crowd. And with the pounding rain and general disorientation, that might just be possible.

At that exact moment, the bus slowed to a halt. A large group of kids surged forward for the door. Oliver looked around and saw they were just on the outskirts of the good neighborhood, which appeared to be where the majority of Campbell Junior High pupils lived. Oliver didn’t know the neighborhood particularly well, but he had a vague idea of where it was in relation to his own.

So he followed the crowd, hopping off the bus at an unfamiliar stop. Rain lashed down on him and the others. He tried to stick with the crowd, but to his despair, everyone dispersed in different directions, and quickly too, to escape the weather. Before Oliver could even blink, he was left standing on the sidewalk completely exposed.

Not even a second later, the second bus pulled into the stop. Oliver saw Chris through the steamed up window. Then Chris clearly saw Oliver, because he started pointing excitedly and shouting something to his friends. Oliver didn’t need an interpreter to know what Chris’s gesticulations meant. He was coming for him.

Oliver ran.

He didn’t have much of an idea where he was, but he ran anyway, heading in what he was certain was the vague direction of home.