history.
'You can learn a lot from the past,' Mr Duncan said enthusiastically. 'Look at the events in China in the last century. Now what lessons do you think we can learn from that?'
Brad yawned. China was Mr Duncan's passion and he was apt to talk for hours once he got started. Brad's mind wandered and he designed a fancy new motorbike in his mind. It was what he intended to build when he grew up and over the past year it had grown larger and more powerful in his imagination. He was debating whether to install a button to turbo boost straight to rocket power or whether a foot pedal would be more satisfying to kick down, when he heard the creak of floorboards next to his desk. Brad came reluctantly back to earth and sighed as Mr Duncan turned and marched across to the front of the room, waving his arms excitedly as he described one of the Chinese dynasties. Brad glanced across as Jarek who was sitting at a desk in the next aisle. Jarek rolled his eyes in sympathy and made a horrible face. Brad laughed and hastily turned it into a cough. Mr Duncan looked rather pointedly at him and said,
'Do you agree, Brad?'
Brad gulped. He had no idea what Mr Duncan had been saying.
'Oh yes, absolutely,' he assured his teacher.
'That's interesting,' Mr Duncan's eyes gleamed. 'So you feel that physical punishment is acceptable in another culture, do you?'
'Oh, um, well not really. I mean…'
Brad floundered then Jarek came to his rescue.
'I think what Brad is trying to say is that each culture has its own ideas of right and wrong and it's not our place to judge them.'
Brad looked at him thankfully. Mr Duncan was impressed by Jarek's comment and drummed his fingers on his desk. 'I daresay you are right about that. But we are running out of time. Open your books, please, and I'll dictate your next assignment.'
'Thanks, Jarek. You saved me a detention,' Brad told the new boy as they packed their books away at the end of class.
Jarek shrugged. 'No worries.'
'Hey, do you want to come and kick a ball around after school? I have to hang around and wait for Fliss. She's got choir practice and Mum is paranoid about us walking home on our own. Not that anyone would dare to attack Fliss –she'd talk them to death before they could hurt her.'
Jarek grinned. 'Sure,' he said eagerly. I'll meet you on the back field.'
Over the next few weeks, Brad spent a lot of time with Jarek. He was a rather quiet boy in class but Brad soon discovered he had an excellent sense of humour and could kick a soccer ball with unerring accuracy.
'Are you going to try out for the school team?' Brad asked one afternoon, as he dribbled a ball between a rubbish tin and his schoolbag before passing it to Jarek.
Jarek dropped his eyes. 'Probably not,' he said regretfully. 'I may not be here then.'
Brad's mouth dropped open. 'Why? Where are you going?'
Jarek looked uncomfortable. 'I'm not sure,' he mumbled. It depends on my father. Look, forget it. I shouldn't have said anything.'
'Okay, if you say so.' Brad was puzzled. 'What does your father do?' he asked after a while.
'Um, electronic stuff. He makes things.'
'Cool. Sounds really interesting. My dad just does boring stuff at an office. Can I come and see him work, sometime?'
'Um, yes, sure.' Jarek looked even more uncomfortable. 'I have to go now,' he added hastily as he grabbed his bag from the side of the field and leapt away.
Brad was fascinated at the thought of someone working with electronics for a living. Ever since he was small he had taken things apart to see how they worked, much to the annoyance of his family. He destroyed his father's calculator and his mother's food processor before they banned him from dismantling anything that was actually in working order. Brad compensated for this by begging any old used and broken appliances from his friend's families and spent many happy hours in his bedroom pulling these apart. One corner of the garage held a large shelf overflowing with all the pieces he had removed and kept in case they ever came in useful one day.
'The place looks like a junk shop,' his mother had complained.
'At least it's keeping him quiet,' her husband pointed out. 'Who knows, one day he might actually do something useful and start putting things together again so that they work.'
'Let's hope it comes soon,' Fliss snarled. Her hairdryer had been playing up and she had rather unwisely let Brad attempt to fix it.
'It goes now,' he had told her proudly after two hours of tinkering with it, 'and I have improved it.'
That should have made Fliss suspicious. Brad was right. The hairdryer did go but it was no use for drying hair. Brad had soldered on part of an old food mixer and the resulting machine grabbed clumps of hair and twisted them into a tangle before pulling on them rather painfully. Fliss had suffered a sore scalp for several days and was not happy about it.
Brad poked his sister as they walked to school one morning. 'You know Jarek?'
'You mean the weird boy? What about him? And don't poke me,' Fliss added.
His father makes electronic stuff.'
'Good for him.'
'Do you suppose he'd let me watch him?'
'Not if he has any sense he wouldn't, Fliss snapped. 'Anyway, why ask me? He's your friend and it's his father.'
'Yeah, well, it's just that he's sort of secretive about his father.'
'You must be imagining things,' Fliss snorted. 'Look, there's Jarek now.'
As they turned the corner, she pointed to a gangly figure sloping down the footpath ahead.
'Hey, Jarek,' Fliss yelled.
Jarek stopped and looked back, a wide grin splitting his face as he saw his friend.
'Brad wants to watch your father working with his electronic stuff,' Fliss said baldly as they caught up with Jarek.
A brief look of fear flashed across his face then he smiled rather uncertainly. 'Sure, why not.'
'Great. I'll come tonight after school,' Brad beamed in satisfaction. 'Fliss is going to her friend Sarah's house.'
Jarek gave him a panic stricken glance then cleared his throat and nodded.
Brad secretly felt rather mean at forcing the issue but was pleased with the result.
He felt less certain as they walked back to Jarek's house after school. Jarek shuffled along with his head down and mumbled in response to Brad's questions. Brad had a sudden thought. Maybe Jarek's father was working on something secret for the government; like a supersonic spy device or some sort of top secret new invention. Then he laughed at himself. 'If he was doing something like that he wouldn't work from his house, especially a house like that.'
Jarek's house was on a street Brad hadn't been down before. It was an unremarkable place with a rather rickety picket fence. One paling was missing in the middle and a couple of large camellia bushes grew haphazardly on the small square of lawn at the front.
'I'm home and I've brought a friend with me,' Jarek yelled as they approached the front door.
Brad heard the sound of at least two doors closing somewhere inside then a flustered middle aged woman came out to greet him.
She was dressed in the oddest collection of clothes Brad had ever seen. Shawls of every colour and texture draped and looped around her neck and arms. There was dark blue shiny shawl with a vibrant peacock pattern in gold creeping across her shoulders while a flimsy pink chiffon shawl fell in soft folds to her feet. The effect was rather like a rainbow or one of those stalls in a market where they throw all the clothes for sale over a rack. Brad gazed open mouthed then blinked and muttered, 'hello.'
'Oh hello, you must be Brad. Jarek has talked about you,' Jarek's mother said breathlessly. 'Why don't you come into the kitchen. I've just made a batch of chocolate muffins and there's a jug of home made lemon drink if you'd like some.'
She blinked a wisp of graying hair out of her eyes and tucked it under what looked to be some kind of turban of vivid yellow cloth.
Brad grinned. Chocolate muffins sounded good and he wanted to see Jarek's father at work.
'Whe
re's your Dad's workshop?' Brad asked as he finished his third muffin.
A quick glance passed between Jarek and his mother.
'Are you sure you want to see it? It's pretty boring, actually. We could kick a ball outside instead, ' Jarek suggested.
'I'd rather see the workshop,' Brad insisted.
Jarek looked uncomfortable.
'Okay, ' he said reluctantly, and led the way down the hallway past a row of doors.
'What a lot of rooms. How many people live here?' Brad asked curiously.
'Oh, er, a lot of those are cupboards,' Jarek answered as he opened a door. Brad's eyes opened wide in delight. Here was the room of his dreams. The walls were lined with shelves that overflowed with containers of intriguing looking bits and pieces. A long workbench stretched under a window across one end of the room where a tall man sat perched on a stool. He appeared to be soldering two pieces of metal onto a circuit board with the help of a large magnifying glass on a stand and a pair of crocodile clamps.
'Is that you, Jarek?' he called without turning around. 'Don't go too far away. I've only got the fibrillator to fit and then this is done.'
'Wow,' breathed Brad. 'This is awesome.' He picked up a box from a nearby shelf and poked his fingers into it. 'What are these? I've never seen anything like them before.'
He pulled out a twisted piece of shiny green metal as long as his thumbnail. It had a scoop at one end and a spike at the other.
Jarek gave an anguished cry. 'Don't touch,' he yelled as the tall man spun around on his stool in surprise.
'Who is this?' he thundered, scowling at the boys.
Brad jumped nervously. Jarek's