how to survive a volcanic eruption

Michael was ten years old when he decided to sign up for his school’s annual science fair. He had three weeks to finish his project and he was determined to win, spending hours researching the materials he would need to create his masterpiece. His mother had given permission to use the garage, so he quickly set up a makeshift laboratory there. Their house sat on a hill, with the yard sloping dangerously to a creek below. Michael couldn’t count the number of times his mother had warned him and his brother to be careful not to slip and fall down the hill.

It was a balmy Saturday afternoon, and Michael busily worked on his project in the garage. He was always careful and wore protective gloves and eye gear. He’d been using one of Lincoln’s white shirts as a lab coat to make it more official.

When Lincoln arrived home from playing basketball with friends, he stopped at the edge of the driveway and stared. His brother looked like some kind of miniature mad scientist. This was not going to help him lose the geek image, Lincoln decided.

“What are you up to?” Lincoln asked. Hooking the ball under his arm, he entered the garage and frowned.

“It’s a volcano for the science fair.”

“It is? Doesn’t look like one to me.”

Michael glared at Lincoln. “Well, it is. I tried to make it look as real as possible.”

Lincoln circled the table that held Michael’s four foot long volcano and raised a brow. “Still doesn’t look like one to me.”

“And just how many volcanos have you seen?” Michael asked. “It’s a stratovolcano, like Mount St. Helens. I looked it up.” He adjusted his plastic goggles and went back to work.

Moving to the side, Lincoln leaned against the wall and watched as Michael inserted clear rubber hosing into his structure. The volcano itself looked like a small mountain range, and there were three distinct openings. Michael had even added real rocks and small plastic trees. He’d obviously spent a great deal of time on this, and Lincoln was surprised to realize he hadn’t noticed.

“So, uh, this’ll erupt?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“How?”

Michael sighed dramatically and pointed to a cardboard box on the floor. Lincoln peered into the box. There were several containers of baking soda, red food coloring, a couple bottles of vinegar, liquid soap, and half a dozen empty glass pop bottles.

“How are you getting this thing to school?” he asked.

“I’ve designed it so it comes apart in three sections. It’ll be easy to move.”

“Uh huh,” Lincoln said.

Michael had it set up so that his ingredients could be mixed beside the volcano in a large bucket, and then siphoned up into the tubes to cause the eruption. Lincoln watched, fascinated, as Michael readied his volcano.

“I just need to add the vinegar, and it should go,” he said, sounding excited.

Lincoln moved closer, still holding his basketball. When he tripped over an extra piece of tubing, the ball flew from his hands, knocking into Michael, who dropped both bottles of vinegar he was holding into the bucket. The mixture immediately began to fizz and make its way up the tubing into the volcano.

But it was moving too fast, and it wasn’t properly proportioned. Michael and Lincoln both let out cries of surprise as the tops of the volcano exploded off and bubbly liquid spurted out.

The table shook with the force of the explosion, causing one of the legs to buckle, and the entire structure fell to the floor with a crash. The bucket tipped over, and soon there was a raging flow of makeshift lava racing towards the boys. Lincoln grabbed Michael by the collar and hauled him out of the garage, but Michael fell over the errant basketball, and soon they were both rolling down the hill towards the creek. The lava followed.

Lincoln slowed his descent by digging his fingers into the dirt, but Michael continued to tumble. Gritting his teeth, Lincoln let go and went after his brother. The lava headed on a straight path, bubbling and fizzing and mixing with dirt and rocks and leaves. Lincoln caught up with Michael and threw himself over the smaller boy as liquid and debris cascaded around them. After a few minutes, the lava slowed to a trickle and Michael screamed for Lincoln to stop suffocating him.

Michael shoved Lincoln away and got to his feet. Dirt streaked his face and his green eyes were bright with unshed tears as he stared up the hill.

“You ruined it!” he screamed. “You messed up my project!”

“Hey, I just saved your life,” Lincoln protested, standing up. “We just survived a volcanic eruption.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

Michael stomped away and began to climb back up to the garage. Lincoln shook his head and did the same.

The garage was a mess, and Michael’s project was in pieces on the floor. His lower lip began to tremble, but he refused to cry in front of Lincoln. Instead, he kicked at the basketball, making it bounce off the wall and hit Lincoln in the face.

“Ow! OW!” Lincoln roared, grabbing his eye.

Michael whirled around and ran over to him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Lincoln blinked and shook his head. “I know. Just like I didn’t mean to wreck your project.”

Michael sighed and looked at what was left of his volcano. “Thanks for saving me,” he said while rolling his eyes.

“Anytime. I know that you would have done the same.”

“Whatever.”

“Really? If I was in trouble, you wouldn’t help me?”

“Not in a million years.”

Lincoln smirked. “Yeah, I’ll remember that. Now come on. Maybe we can fix this before dinner.”

They worked together for a few hours, and even though it was going to take a few more, Michael knew they could get the volcano back into shape. As they headed inside the house for dinner, Michael nudged Lincoln in the side.

“I would, you know,” he said.

“Would what?”

“Save you. If you were in trouble.”

Lincoln grinned and put his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “I know.”

~end