THE CURIOUS STORY OF FRANK AND HIS FRIEND MR STIMS, THE HYDROPHOBE

“So anyway, like I was saying, I was sitting, quite comfortably, on this nice chair when Mr Stims told me what he wanted to do with his invention. But please don’t interrupt me again, because I am going to forget what I was saying and would not be able to tell you the full story of what happened that day. And please, could you take that bright lamp off my eyes. It is making my eyes quite sore.”

The two detectives looked at each other with barely concealed frustration and one of them reluctantly reached out to turn off the lamp.


“So to get back my story. As you know already my name is Frank. I finished school two years ago and now stay at home most of the time and watch TV. My mum does not let me hang around with other kids because she says I have a bad temper and could hurt them if I get angry. My only friend is my next door neighbour Mr Stims.

Earlier this week Mr Stims invited me to visit him. I have often enjoyed Mr Stims’ company over tea. I especially liked the mind games that Mr Stims was so good at inventing. The game that I particularly enjoyed was the one in which Mr Stims would ask me to guess what he was thinking of at that very moment. It was not an easy game to play at all. I did not know what Mr Stims did for living but from what I have observed, it seemed to me that Mr Stims was spending much of his time working on some problem to do with chemistry or something in that field. All his rooms were cluttered with books and manuscripts that were covered with calculations and formulas of some kind. That is not to say that Mr Stims was an untidy person.

Usually I spent time at Mr Stims’ TV room where we drank tea, ate some delicious biscuits and talked about science. That day, however, Mr Stims invited me into his study room and asked me to sit on this nice, comfortable chair beside his desk. He himself sat on this big, spacious chair behind the desk. His study room was quite small, the desk occupying most of the room. On it lay writing pads, books whose titles I didn’t understand and folders, all organised in a neat pattern.

After staring at me in silence with an odd look in his eyes for about a minute, Mr Stims started speaking with solemnity, each word carefully enunciated.

“For the past five years, I have been working on a devil of a problem, as you probably have noticed. I no longer need to be secretive about what I do. But I did want to apologise for being so evasive and unpredictable in the past.”

Mr Stims was right. His changeability did often irk me. I recall on one occasion asking him how he would like to be remembered by posterity and it produced the strangest reaction in him. He went all kinds of colours, first red and then white and only replied that he had great hopes for the future. Yet another time I made an observation on how little we seem to know about the oceans and what mysteries could be waiting to be discovered in their unfathomable depths. Completely contrary to his usual nature, Mr Stims got very excited and started going on about the structure of a water molecule and how its structure could be manipulated. Then, suddenly, he checked himself and quickly changed the subject. But despite his idiosyncrasies I found Mr Stims a fascinating person to be with. He knew so many things and could always answer all of my questions.

Mr Stims continued with stifled exultation in his voice: “ You might remember from your school friends, my friend, what a polar molecule is. Well, water just happens to be comprised of polar molecules. That fact is the whole linchpin of my work. The water molecule is not a neutral particle! On the contrary, it is a charged particle!”

I did not actually remember what a polar particle is. To say the truth, I really do not recall much of my school days. I was always surrounded by people smarter than me and I was afraid to speak up and say what I thought, in case I might say something stupid. That is why I liked Mr Stims so much. He was always willing to listen and explain things to me.

“The fact that it is a charged particle, does that suggest anything to you, Frank?” Mr Stims asked in a tone that was growing more elated by the minute. Not waiting for my reply, as he usually does, he continued: “ I will get straight to the point. For your benefit I will state it in simplified terms. Charged particles respond to magnetic fields. By creating a magnetic force of appropriate strength and by aligning it in the right direction, we can separate the water molecule into its constituent parts! We can turn liquid water into the gases of hydrogen and oxygen. The theory behind it is of course more complicated than that, but what I have just stated is my work in the nutshell.”

He paused for a moment to let the full significance of his words sink into my words. To be honest with you, I did not really understand at that point the sense of it all. I thought that it would be better if one could actually go the other way and create water out of gases so that people everywhere would have enough to drink.

“The idea sounds simple enough. Let me tell you, putting it into practice is another kettle of fish. The years that I have spent trying to create the right apparatus, attempting to discover the right alignment. Failure followed failure. Many a time I was tempted to throw it all up in the air and to just walk away. Only one hope kept me going. I cannot say that it was a well-defined sensation. It was a hope that… well, that by achieving my goal, all my past deeds would gain the meaning that they were lacking.”

I looked closely at Mr Stims’ face. Slight beads of sweat were gathering on his high forehead.
For a second there was a forlorn look in his eyes but it quickly was extinguished.

“Let me tell you a little of my past for it will explain to some degree the present. I was a brilliant university student majoring in chemistry. I was heading straight for a conventional academic career. But my nature got the better of me. The claustrophobic atmosphere was stifling my natural creativity. The competitiveness, the imperiousness of the lecturers, the  “I’ll do you a favour, you do me a favour” attitude prevalent amongst the staff and the students… Once I left the university, there was no way back. To this day I remain an outsider to the scientific community. You, my friend, are the first person in the world to hear of my achievement.”

I was flattered of course. But I still thought that it would be better if one could actually create water out of invisible gases.

“But what are we waiting for!” Mr Stims exclaimed. “Action speaks louder than words. Just one minute and I will show how it works.”

While Mr Stims was gone, I stretched my legs. They had almost gone to sleep. I also had a big itch on my back where a mosquito bit me and I gave it a good scratch. I could not do that while Mr Stims was in the room. When I was with Mr Stims, I tried to behave properly so that he would respect me. I remembered that dinnertime was coming soon and wondered what my mom would cook tonight. I hoped that it would be fish fingers with mashed potatoes as that’s my favourite meal.

Mr Stims wasn’t gone for long. He came back carrying a kind of a silvery, rectangular box and a glass of water.

I thought it was really nice of him to bring me water as I was feeling rather thirsty. I was about to reach out my hand and say “Thank you Mr Stims, that was really thoughtful of you”, when suddenly he put that shiny box over the top of the glass. There was this hissing sound and the water disappeared before my eyes. Well, it did not actually disappear straight away. For a moment, it seemed that the water was cut in half, like a fresh bread roll with a sharp knife, and then both halves vanished. I was a bit miffed, as I really did want to drink that water but still the sight was so amazing that I could not help crying out: “WOW!”

The room filled with a funny, unfamiliar smell, like a cross between rotten eggs and fresh pineapple. Noticing my sniffing Mr Stims curtly said: “ That’s hydrogen, one of water’s constituents. It is released by the process. You have to be very careful with hydrogen. It’s a highly flammable gas.”

I knew that Mr Stims expected me to say how impressed I was and I did say so. He didn’t reply for a while and then he started a long speech. I can only remember bits of it.

“ I have great plans, my friend, great plans. Imagine magnifying the strength of this machine a hundredfold, a thousandfold. The possibilities are endless. Look at the map of the world Frank! Look at how much space is taken by the oceans. Two thirds of our planet is water. Two thirds! How much land is wasted because of this! So many regions are overcrowded, overpopulated. Overcrowding leads to stress, stress leads to crime… What use is ocean water? We certainly cannot drink it. And in any case, many regions that are now ocean once used to be land. We need to reclaim that land. And we need not stop there. The time has come for the oceans to go! We will make them disappear just like the water in this glass disappeared! Just imagine �" land, land, land everywhere! One great continuous continent! No barriers between countries! The whole world finally united as one, living in peace! Room to plant crops, room for cattle to roam! Space that man at present can only dream of! Whole continents underneath the oceans are just waiting for us to populate them! The possibilities are endless! The possibilities are endless! Yes, there will be a price to pay. And that price will be paid by the ocean dwellers. But we need not concern ourselves with that. It is on land that intelligence arose and it is land dwellers that will rule this planet. And I will go down in history as the greatest mortal of them all! The man who has made it all possible!”

Mr Stims was getting very excited. Whenever Mr Stims got excited, he would walk from one end of the room to another and wave his arms around. Well, he certainly was doing that now.

“Liberation from the tyranny of water! The time has come! The possibilities are endless!” he kept shouting out as he was walking back and forward.

It was all very interesting but as I was getting rather hungry, I was thinking more about the fish fingers with the mashed potatoes. And it was then that this terrifying thought struck me and startled me so much that I nearly screamed out in horror. I realised that without oceans there would be no more fish and without fish there would be no more fish fingers for me to eat and, like I said before, that really is my most favourite dish.

And so I said: “ Hey, wait a minute Mr Stims. I really like fish fingers. You can’t kill all the fish. Give me that box! I don’t want you to destroy the oceans.”

“Fish, shmish’, he sneered.  “ Who needs them? They can’t talk, you can’t pat them and they smell terrible.”

He refused to give me the shiny box and so a small scuffle broke out between us, because by then I was getting quite irate about not being able to eat fish fingers any more, all because of Mr Stims’ stupid invention. I reached out for that shiny box that he was holding and tried to tear it away from his grasp and it was then that I accidentally pressed a round red button on the top of the box. And that’s when it happened. You know when you blow up a balloon and then let it go without tying it up and it just flies all around the room letting out air. Well, something similar happened to Mr Stims. Suddenly, all this water vapour started coming out of all of his orifices and he was getting thinner and thinner and changing in shape before my very eyes. Then he just dropped on the floor or rather what was left of him, for by now he looked just like a squeezed lemon.

“ I am really sorry about this Mr Stims”, I said to him, even though I knew that he could not hear me “ but I really do like fish fingers.” I then took the shiny box that was lying on the floor and broke it into many small pieces. You both know what happened after that.”


The two detectives looked at each other with barely concealed frustration. It was going to be another long night for them.

Reviews

[AgNes]

Good story, Boris! Thank you for sharing.

[Brad]

this was a humorous tale told much like "the great god pan"...i like your stories, boris as they are told in a fashion to take seriously and then the humour sneaks up and bites you in the bum

[David Lewis Paget]

Quite a humorous little tale, Boris. But what did happen after that.....? I'm still waiting!