Science Fair

Woodbine Junior High's Science Fair had always been calamity-prone, but the 1999 edition topped them all for sheer mayhem.

The trouble began when the student body gathered in the cafeteria to hear a few words from the twenty finalists. Last to speak was Lara, a red-haired girl in a Hello Kitty sweatshirt. With infectious enthusiasm, she described a three-slice toaster she had created—a scientific marvel that would simultaneously produce one light, one medium, and one dark slice, all sharing the toaster in peace and harmony.  

"It's all about diversity," she declared, raising a fist in the air. "So, on this momentous day, as we stand at the threshold of a new century, let us join hands in the spirit of—" 

Someone opened one of the heavy metal doors at the back of the cafeteria, then let out a yelp before retreating with a loud slam. The interruption threw Lara off, prompting her to abandon her high-flown rhetoric and improvise a sudden conclusion. "Anyway, if the people of the world are like slices of bread, then my invention will make humanity toast. Thank you." She glided back to her seat. It hadn't been her intention to end her speech with a threat to the species, but she enjoyed the look of alarm on her teachers' faces.

After the assembly, Lara and the other finalists headed to the Science Wing, where their projects would be on exhibit. Ms. Kwan, the youthful department head, led the way, anxiously stopping to make one last adjustment to the 'Science Fair' banner that stretched across the hallway. Within the next few hours, she would acquire her first grey hairs courtesy of her favorite student.

Each student’s project had its own booth, set apart by a large, tri-paneled poster board on which graphics were displayed. Two or three such booths were on each of the folding tables spread throughout the halls, with headings ranging from 'Non-Euclidian Phrenology' to 'Geology Rocks!'  

Lara had no interest in the predictable demonstrations of eggs being dropped to test gravity, flowers with their stems in food coloring, etc., but she had to stop and gawk when she came to a four-foot-high paper mache volcano. 

"It's gonna go off like freakin' Krakatoa," claimed Kurt, its maker. 

Pale, thin Nathan wasn't impressed. Leaning over to Lara, he said, "You'll find that it's just hydrogen peroxide with dish detergent; throw in some potassium iodide and you'll get plenty of goo, but it's hardly lava. There's no fire."

"I love fire," said Kurt, pointing to the flames printed on his black Iron Maiden t-shirt. "Fire is cool."

Next to the volcano was a modest (Lara called it "lame") demonstration—something to do with air pressure—involving a balloon clamped to a stand that blew out a candle. And at the far end of the table was an open-topped ant farm in front of a panel that read 'Small Scale Farming for a Crowded World.' The rim of the terrarium was covered in Vaseline to create an insurmountable barrier for the red harvester ants; meanwhile, a piece of driftwood positioned vertically in the center of it all allowed the ants to climb up above the level of the glass for better viewing. "Check it out," said Heather, its snub-nosed creator. "There's no possible way they can escape." 

"They might," said Lara. 

Heather tilted her head to one side like a terrier. "Well, if you're going to put it like that, they might."

No sooner were these words spoken than someone carrying poster board panels from a booth walked by. With the enormous panels blocking their vision, they bumped into the table. The bump caused the driftwood to fall to one side, knocking nearly fifty ants onto the tabletop.

Heather was furious. "Hey!"

"Watch where you're going, dumbass!" said Lara.

"No, you watch where you're going!" replied the kid behind the panels.

"Ooh, classic comeback. Not," said Lara. She tried to help Heather corral the escapees, but as soon as one crawled up her arm, she decided it was time to stop dawdling and head over to her own booth. "Oh, well," she said, stepping away as the ants streamed across the table. "It is what it is." 

"It better not be, or I'm screwed!" said Heather. 

"Just tell the judges the ants are 'free range.' They'll love it."

Around the corner and down the hall, Lara's booth was all set up. Her three-slice toaster sat in front of a big, hand-painted panel that read 'The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread!!!!' 

Lara had taken an existing three-slice toaster, removed a few heating cables from one slot, and moved them to the slot on the opposite side. Thus, one slot got extra heat while another had its heat reduced, resulting in toast that came up light, medium, and dark.  

"Sweet," said Nathan peering over her shoulder at the toaster. It would be insensitive to label a young man a 'dweeb' simply because he wore glasses, though it should be noted that his also had bangs cut straight across like Mr. Spock. Lara would have preferred not to be sharing a table with him, but that was the luck of the draw.

Nathan's project was titled 'A Matter of Time' as its heading, and instead of illustrations, his poster board panels were plastered with twenty pages of small text printed out of a computer. Lara couldn't be bothered reading it. She just looked at the rather ordinary object for which the text was a backdrop.  

"So what have you come up with—a clock radio? I hate to tell you, but it's been done."

"Hah!" said Nathan. "'Clock radio' doesn't even scratch the surface."

"There's more to it than that?"

"Obviously. It's a chronographic ambulator for tracking radioactive pulses." Nathan looked from side to side, then lowered his voice. "But between you and me, it's also a time machine."

"Whatever."

"I don't expect a girl to understand. Just know that it contains a flux capacitor—the only one in the world. I received it this morning from a colleague in the former Soviet Union."

"As if." 

"Scoff if you will."

"So what are you going to do with it?"

"Let's just say the day is fast approaching when I will crush all those who dare mock me." Lara expected him to throw back his head and cackle, but he maintained his composure. "It's simply a matter of putting one hand on the side of the machine and turning the time dial with the other."

"Ooh—let's see!" Lara reached toward the clock radio.

Nathan swatted her hands away. "No. It isn't a toy. You have to know what you're doing. If someone like you traveled in time, they'd probably upset the whole space-time continuum."

"My bad."

"One little mistake could snowball into a catastrophe. They say that even the demise of a single insect could set off a chain reaction that would alter the course of history. You might come back to a world run by poodles, or a world where people eat lawn clippings and wear shoes on their hands—there's no telling. It's called the Butterfly Effect."  

"I said, ‘My bad.’ Anyway, I'll keep your secret if you keep mine." 

"Oh, I suppose you're going to tell me that thing of yours is more than just a toaster." 

"Obviously. Since the three slices always come up one light, one medium, and one dark, you might wonder what the knob is for. Answer: it controls the weather." She continued in a whisper. "This is just between you and me and a few people at NASA. Turn the knob to the left, and you get dry weather; turn it to the right, you get rain. Of course, it would be irresponsible for me to actually unleash the power of my machine..."

"Then I'll do it," said Nathan, making a sudden grab at the toaster.

“Get lost, spaz!” Lara tried to pull Nathan's hand away, but he'd already turned the knob to the darkest setting. This time he gave a full-throated cackle in the style of Margaret Hamilton.

Lara was torn between punching him in the stomach and kneeing him in the groin. As she weighed her options, a commotion erupted from down the call and around the corner, including squeals, shouts, and a smattering of applause.

"It's Krakatoa!" said Nathan before speeding off to check out the excitement. 

Lara stayed back, seeing an opportunity for a little revenge. She put her left hand on one side of the clock radio and her right hand on the dial. As she turned the dial, she heard Ms. Kwan say, "You!" She froze, sensing she was in trouble, but when she finally turned to look, Ms. Kwan had gone.  

Anyway, nothing happened. The 'time machine' was a dud. "Boys are so stupid," she said under her breath. 

Though the noise and excitement seemed to have died down, Lara was curious to see what had become of Kurt's volcano. She found the halls not just quiet, but empty—almost as if there'd been an emergency evacuation. 

Science Fair participants were excused from regular classes that morning, but so far as other students were concerned, but the rest of each grade had just one period to look at the displays. And yet the classrooms were empty. Lara left the Science Wing behind, passing the English Wing and the gymnasium without seeing a soul.

Continuing toward the cafeteria, with its signature fragrance of ketchup, bleach, and processed lunch meats, she put an ear to the door and listened. Some fool was droning, "So, on this momentous day, as we stand at the threshold of a new century..."

Opening the door, she saw herself on stage saying, "Let us join hands in the spirit of—" It was such a shock that she let out a yelp before jumping back and slamming the door.  

So, it was true. A shudder ran through her as she tried to regain her bearings. Then her mind flashed to the Butterfly Effect. Lara had many goals for her young life, but reconfiguring the space-time continuum was not among them. There were about fifteen minutes before her earlier self would go back in time; until then she'd have to lie low. If she got involved in any sort of interaction, the consequences could be dire.

But where to hide? She chewed her lip as her mind raced. She couldn't find an empty locker to hide in, and the custodians' supply closets were locked. A bell rang, which meant there would soon be a crush of people in the hall. 

Wanting to steer clear of her doppelgänger, she went up to the second floor. There she walked quickly, avoiding eye contact. On the lookout for a hiding place, she saw Ms. Kwan coming out of the principal's office, heading straight at her. With her heart pounding, Lara made a sharp turn and rushed back downstairs.

Unfortunately, this landed her smack in the middle of the Science Fair. 

In desperation, she pulled her sweatshirt up over her head and walked a little way blindly, but she could tell from people's comments that she was just drawing attention to herself. 

Seeing an unattended booth, she snatched up the back panels in her arms and used them as a screen. They were big enough to cover all but her legs and feet—and since nearly all the students wore jeans and sneakers, that rendered her virtually anonymous. The only downside was that she still couldn't see much.

"Hey," said an angry, familiar voice.

"Watch where you're going, dumbass," said another.

Lara didn't like the speaker's tone, so she shot back in a husky baritone. "No, you watch where you're going!" 

"Ooh, classic comeback. Not!" That the words came from her own mouth gave them an extra sting.

She looked back, just for an instant. Everyone was completely focused on the escaped ants. Seizing the opportunity, she tossed the panels against the wall and dove under the end of the table, where the large, plastic tablecloth provided a little bit of cover. 

"It is what it is," her earlier self was saying. Not that Lara was listening. She was too focused on her next move. Should she stay put or slowly crawl to the other end of the table? If she could make it to the volcano end, she might make a run for the girls' washroom.  

She'd got a little past the middle of the table when the boy who used a balloon to blow out a candle stepped up to begin his demonstration. He picked up a white balloon and had almost finished inflating it when he felt something prickly moving on his hand. Withdrawing the balloon from his mouth, he saw ants skittering across its surface.

"Bugs!" he shrieked, releasing his grip. As the air rushed out of the balloon, it flew around in tight circles, then hit the lit candle. The chain reaction continued with the tall, slender candlestick tipping over and rolling into the paper mache volcano.

Lara couldn't see any of that, of course. She just heard "Bugs!" followed by "Fire!" 

It's always something with this kid, she thought.  

But soon, she heard flames crackling and smelled smoke right near her head. Alarmed by the fire, Lara reflexively began to rise from her crouched position, bumping the table so it rose about half an inch. As the table returned sharply to the floor, the jolt dislodged a stopper at the bottom of a tube within the volcano, causing the release of the catalyst potassium iodide. With smoke already rising from the back of the volcano, spectacular orange foam now erupted from the center. 

"Aiight!" said Kurt. 

Everyone assumed the fire was an intentional part of the display, so instead of treating the situation as an emergency, they gathered around to enjoy the spectacle. Staying under the burning volcano wasn't a viable option, but Lara's path to the girls' washroom was now completely blocked by students and teachers. With no alternative, she turned around and crawled out from the other end of the table. Fortunately, no one noticed her exit, as all eyes were on the voluminous orange lava that was overflowing onto the linoleum.

"Whoa! This is badass," said Kurt.

Lara kept her head down as she rounded the corner of the hall, passing through a group of students—Nathan included—who were hurrying toward the volcano from the opposite direction. As she approached her own booth, she was stopped in her tracks by Ms. Kwan.

"You!" said Ms. Kwan. She appeared shocked and confused. Over Ms. Kwan's shoulder, Lara could see herself leaning over the time machine. Then there was a flash of light. "But you were just..." Ms. Kwan looked back at Nathan's booth. Lara was gone.

"I'm always somewhere," said Lara by way of explanation. "I'm a busy girl. Very enterprising." 

The conversation might have gone further had smoke from the volcano not triggered the sprinkler system, causing a sudden downpour over the hallways of the Science Wing.  

Lara rushed to her booth and unplugged the toaster. It was a bit wet, but no harm done. In truth, she no longer cared—not about the toaster and not about the Science Fair. She was just thrilled to be back to the present moment where she belonged, with her feet on the ground and her shoes on her feet. 

As Nathan came running up, the sprinkler stopped. "The water will have short-circuited the flux capacitor," he moaned. "It's ruined." 

"It wasn't water, my friend. It was precipitation," said Lara. "FYI, that's what you get for touching the dial on my invention. You made it rain yourself." Nathan raised a hand to his mouth as he looked at her in wonder. "I guess you'll have to find another way to crush those who mock you."  

When all was said and done, Lara got an honorable mention, and Nathan got nothing. Though most students agreed that Krakatoa was 'da bomb,' first prize went to the Ant Farm. As they were dismantling their projects at the end of the day, Ms. Kwan explained to Lara and Nathan that the judges had loved the 'Free Range' concept, feeling it was "emblematic of the bold, progressive, solution-oriented vision of the younger generation." 

Nathan didn't disguise his feelings. "So basically, Lara was right—humanity is toast." 

"Oh, cheer up. There's always next year," said Ms. Kwan with a kind smile. She ran her eyes over the fine print of his display. "You got a little carried away, that's all. We've all done silly things."

"Not me," said Lara, patting Nathan on the back. "Not yet. But we've got all the time in the world."