The Science Fair

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Written for the Writer’s Cramp Contest (1,000 words)
August 24, 2024
Prompt: Write a story combining Can Opener Day and National Knife Day

My Word Count: 998 words

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Jack tried not to be jealous of Miles and his family. But all through Junior high and now into their Sophomore year, Jack had been the needy friend because of his Prepper dad. He was embarrassed and ashamed all the time.

“So, Jack, what are ya doin’ for the Science Fair?”

“‘Nothin’. You know how crazy my family is. It’s hard to get my hands on anything for a display.”

“Just name it man. We got lots of stuff you could use.”

“Naw, I’ll work it out.” Jack fiddled with the shoe lace on his worn-out sneakers.

Miles looked away towards his computer screen and made a few innocuous taps on the keyboard. Up popped the rules for the Science Fair.

Jack asked, “Are you going to try to include Can Openers and Knives?”

“I’ll try, but where did he come up with such a strange theme? It says here, August 24th is Can Opener Day and National Knife Day.

Jack said, “Isn’t that the day of the fair?”

“Yeah, I guess. But never heard of either one of these. There are only 365 days and they’re already doubling up. Just making stuff up.”

“Well, I better get back to the cabin before I’m missed. You know there is always something I’m supposed to be doing in preparation for the apocalypse, whenever that’s going to happen. According to Dad…soon.”

Miles walked Jack to the door and bro-hugged him. “Take care, man.”

*********

On the long walk home toward the edge of town and deeper into the wooded areas, Jack tried to think of a Science Project. He couldn’t wait till he graduated and he could leave this town and his Dad. He would never have more than a high school diploma but he was determined to live a life in the city. Find a job even if it was manual labor. He was stronger than most guys his age with all the rigors of Prepper Life. If or when the Apocalypse happened, he would rather die in the city than skin rabbits in the woods.

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The minute he opened the door to the cabin, the work began. His mother didn’t greet him or ask about his day the way Miles’s mother did. She just said in a very weary voice, “Jack, go get a carton of tuna from the dirt cellar and bring up some potatoes.”

As he did the chore, he wondered if the electricity would really go out if the world got hit with an EMP. Miles said it would. Jack asked if that meant it was an apocalypse and who did it to us? Which enemy? Miles had shown him on the internet that it could happen if the earth was hit with a big sun spot. An EMP was science. Maybe there was something there.

He set the carton on the table, pulled his Spyderco Folding Knife from his pocket and sliced open the tape. He re-folded the knife and put it away. He didn’t like to admit it, but he loved that knife.

That was one thing he had that Miles would never have.

He handed his mom three cans.

Without so much as a word she took the cans from her eldest child, snapped the first can onto the electric can opener, making sure the arm with the magnet was in place. Then watched as if in a trance. This was the only luxury item she had.

The can opener gripped the lip of the tin can. Like a ravenous beast without mercy, it growled and bit into the metal, shredding the edge of the paper label. It chewed and turned its victim until the lid popped, flinging tuna juice in surrender.

Jack stacked the cans on a shelf. He wondered how without electricity they would open all these cans.

He slipped a can into his pocket and went outside.

His dad was skinning a rabbit on the butchering table. He knew it would please his dad if he asked for assistance.

“Dad, can you open this for me?”

Dad didn’t say anything, just reached with bloody hands for the can. Jack watched with fascination his father’s skill. He handled the Ka-Bar Knife with competence and dexterity.

This time the can screeched at the rough treatment and crackled as the lid was bent back upon itself. Dad handed the half-opened can back, spilling tuna juice onto both of their hands.

“Careful, boy. Don’t cut yourself.”

But a jagged edge had already nipped his thumb and Jack quickly wiped the blood on his pants. Dad smiled, but didn’t say anything. Went back to skinning the rabbit.

Jack moved off into the woods and dumped the contents on the ground for his yellow lab, who woofed it down. He tossed the can in the burn barrel.

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The next day at Miles house, Jack gobbled the snack and inhaled the milk. He was growing and didn’t always get his fill at home.

“Miles, I need your help.”

“Anything, man.”

Jack set a can of tuna on the table. “How would you open this can without an electric can opener or something sharp, like a knife?”

“Don’t know.”

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Upstairs, they learned from a YouTube Video. Turn the can upside down on a rock. Rub in a circular motion until the tin is worn away from the lip. When the liquid starts to seep out, wedge anything strong, like a key under the edge and the lid will separate.

“Is the offer of that poster board still good? I want to illustrate an EMP sun spot hitting the earth. And I can meet the theme requirement with three props.”

“You can Name That Tune in Three Notes? How?”

“Prop #1 - Mom’s electric can opener with a sign:
Useless.”

“Prop #2 - A tuna can with a jagged, bent, half-opened lid with a sign:
Ka-Bar Knife - A Dangerous Option.”

“Prop #3 - A tuna can and a flat rock with a sign:
Friction Melts Tin - the Scientific Answer.”

Miles Grinned!