The Memory Artists - Jeffrey Moore [66]
http://www.phylliskiller.ca
ok this is a cool little bomb that you can make in 5 minuts ok this is what you need 1.black “powder” 2. 1 film canister 3. firework fuse 3.gasoilne 4. a rubberband small one 5. a plastic sandwithch bag and now what to do take the film canister and the black powder fill the canister just a little you only need to melt the bag. Poke a hole in the side of the film canister make sure the fuse is in g and the fule and put the fule in it not to much just enough to fill the canister up so after you filled the bad a enough tie the corner off with the rubber band then cut the rest of the baggy off put the end witht the fule in the film canister and your done now go out some where that is wide open so you I get caute by the dam cops put the canister on the ground and light the fuse and run when the black powder lights and the bag melts a big fireball will go up
“Shall we analyse the powder in your lab?” said JJ.
“Tomorrow, first thing?”
“I’ve heard a lot about it.”
“From …?”
“Norval.”
“He’s never seen it.”
“Can we take a gander?”
Noel tried to arrest a yawn. “I’m dead tired, JJ. And you must be too. After all we’ve been through. And it’s late … after two.”
“It’s early in China.”
“I’ll show you your room.”
“You’re the boss. You sure your mom won’t mind me staying?”
Noel rose from his chair. “She’ll be a bit confused at first. I should really wake her up and introduce you, so she doesn’t think you’re a burglar or rapist or something. But she hasn’t been sleeping that well. Just keep your door locked. She … well, she sometimes wanders a bit, goes from room to room, looking for things. With a … lamp.”
He nodded. “The lady with a lamp.” Still lounging in his chair, he began looking around the room, at the digital locks, camouflaged door handles, large-print signs. At the cobwebs and clutter. “I noticed in the bathroom … some signs and things. Your mom has … fairly serious problems, right?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say … I mean, she has a few, you know, minor memory lapses.” Noel sat back down. “To tell you the truth, JJ, they’re major. But she’s getting better all the time, she really is. I’m working on … solutions.”
“Good for you, Noel, don’t give up. Because it’s still there, eh? Like a computer, her memory’s there somewhere—it never disappears, you just need a good technician to restore the data. Unerase, undelete.”
Noel nodded bleakly. “I hope you’re right.”
“It might be too late for a whole new cerebral hard drive, but you’re never too old for a simple upgrade.” JJ took a Kleenex from his pocket, then a wad of gum from his mouth, put one inside the other. “So you two are quite a pair. How ironic, eh?”
“The irony, I assure you—”
“Your mom’s overdrawn at the memory bank, while you’re a millionaire.”
Noel winced at the metaphor.
“So you’ve got to find a way,” JJ extended, “of transferring some of your capital.”
Noel sighed. “I had the same idea.”
“I’ve got a terrible memory. A memory like a … What’s the expression again?”
“Like a sieve? Or goldfish?”
“Yeah, like a sieve.”
Mine’s like a hermetically sealed jar, thought Noel, a radioactive-waste container.
JJ slurped down the last of his tea. “A guy goes to a doctor. ‘I think I’m losing my short-term memory,’ he says. ‘Really?’ says the doctor. ‘Just how long have you had this problem?’ The guy looks at the doctor. ‘What problem?’”
“Right, I’ve heard—”
“I’ve got a memory like a sieve, you’ve got a memory like an elephant.”
“Well … I think that’s a myth. Elephants don’t really have great memories.”
“They don’t? You sure? Which animal has the best memory?”
“The sea lion. It seems they never forget.”28
JJ paused, recalling the time he went to MarineLand in Niagara Falls with his parents, when he burst into tears while watching a sea lion