The Amateur Chemist (standard:other, 1211 words)
Author: James C. Bernthal	Added: Nov 03 2004	Views/Reads: 3451/2218	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
John, an amateur chemist, encounters a strange man and they build a rocket.

THE AMATEUR CHEMIST - JAMES C. BERNTHAL 

John had never considered himself a professional chemist, but he was
certainly a keen amateur.  He enjoyed experimenting with different 
chemicals and substances immensely.  He had even quit his job to spend 
all day at home experimenting.  It was immense fun.  There were pretty 
bubbles and nice smells.  The experiments could also prove useful at 
times. 

So far, John had created a few potions that he had found to be of
interest: a skin blemish remover, a luminous paint for crockery and an 
economically friendly light-source.  There was nothing revolutionary 
amongst John's results.  Now he was working hard on something new.  
John was working on a rocket fuel. 

It wasn't going to be a grand rocket – it certainly wasn't going to
carry anyone – but the idea was that it would go far into the depths of 
space and leave a rainbow of smoke behind that should last for at least 
twelve hours.  It would be very pretty. 

John had built the rocket; it was thirty centre-meters in height and
eight in width.  He was perfecting the fuel.  The formula was almost 
complete.  The man who was affectionately referred to by his neighbours 
as “the mad scientist” was experimenting in his front garden.  A man - 
a stranger to the area - walked slowly past, regarding John with 
curiosity. 

The man was dressed in a white coat with a thick woollen scarf and
half-rimmed spectacles.  He was bald and carried a plastic carrier bag 
in one hand and an old string bag in the other.  After pondering for a 
while, he stopped. 

“Excuse me,” he asked in a loud voice.  John looked politely up.  “Can
you direct me to the supermarket?” 

“There isn't a supermarket in the area,” John replied.  And that, he
thought, was that.  But it wasn't. 

“Oh...” the man opened the gate and entered the garden.  He sat down at
John's garden bench next to John.  “I hope you don't think I'm being 
too rude.” 

“No, no, I enjoy the company,” John lied.  “Who are you?” 

The man chuckled.  “I'm a scientist acting for Mensa.”  John's interest
sparked.  “My name's Colleen.” 

“Colleen?   But surely...” John coughed apologetically, realising that
he sounded rude.  “Hello, Colleen.  My name's John.”  The two men shook 
hands. 

They spoke easily for a few minutes.  John didn't realise it, but he was
doing most of the talking.  He asked Colleen why he was here. 

“I've come because I heard you were making a rocket and I need it to go
to the moon and get some cheese for me.  We've run out.” 

Although he did not find this remotely amusing, John judged it best to
laugh politely.  So he did.  The man swept on, explaining that he came 
from an English-speaking are of Russia and had a friend in the village 
who had spoken of John's experiments with coloured smoke in particular. 


“Is this the rocket?” he asked. 

“Yes, that's it.” 

The scientist looked disappointed.  “Well, it's not very pretty, is it?”


“No...  but does that matter?  I mean it only really matters that it
goes high into space.  The smoke has to be pretty, but...” 

“It's not very big, is it?” 



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