we had gathered and separate them into four piles: skinny sticks, really skinny sticks, fat sticks, and fatter sticks. She picked up a few of the skinniest sticks and broke them into tiny pieces. Then she mashed them into the cotton ball.
“We could really use some paper,” she said.
“Where are we gonna get paper?” David said.
“Oh, I have some,” said Mrs. Herschel. She reached into her pocket and took out those hundred dollar bills.
“You’re going to use bills to get the fire started?” Arcadia asked.
“The money won’t do Annie any good,” Mrs. Herschel said. “I don’t think you can change a hundred in heaven.”
“Rip it into the thinnest strips you possibly can,” Julia told Mrs. Herschel.
“That’s a hundred bucks!” David said as Mrs. Herschel tore the bill down the middle. “What if we can’t get a fire going?”
“Then I wasted a hundred dollars,” Julia admitted.
Mrs. Herschel gave each of us a hundred-dollar bill and we shredded them into tiny strips. Julia mashed the strips up into a big, fluffy ball the same way you would make a snowball. Then she pushed one of the Vaseline-covered cotton balls partly into it.
“This has got to rank up there with the dumbest things I’ve ever seen,” David said. “That’s six hundred bucks you just tore up.”
“It’s a fireball,” Julia explained. “Vaseline is petroleum jelly. Petroleum burns.”
“But how are you going to light it?” Arcadia asked.
“Does anybody have a magnifying glass?” Julia asked.
“Of course we don’t have a magnifying glass!” David said. “Why didn’t you think of that before you ripped up the six hundred bucks?”
“Oh, get stuffed,” Mrs. Herschel told him. “It’s not your money.”
“Any glass might do,” Julia said. “Do we have a bottle? Binoculars? A piece of the windshield might even work.”
“My friend, Agnes, loved taking pictures,” Mrs. Herschel said excitedly. “I’m pretty sure she had a camera in her suitcase.”
“Can you look, please?” Julia said.
Mrs. Herschel went through the suitcases until she found her friend’s camera. It was a nice one, not one of those junky little disposables or a PHD camera (push here, dummy).
“Would it be it okay to take it apart?” Julia asked. “We only need the lens.”
Mrs. Herschel tried to pull the lens off, but it wouldn’t unscrew. She looked at the camera for a moment, and I thought she was going to hand it to one of us, but she didn’t. Instead, she raised the camera up over her head and smashed it against a rock. It broke into a few pieces and the lens fell off.
“Agnes won’t mind,” said Mrs. Herschel.
“Maybe it’s still under warranty,” Henry said.
Julia breathed on the lens and wiped it with her T-shirt. Then she looked up into the trees. It must have been around noon. We were in the shade, but I could tell the sun was high in the sky.
“Let’s move over there,” Julia said, pointing to a patch of sun between the trees about thirty feet away.
Each of us grabbed a pile of sticks. Julia carried the camera lens and her fireball. She sat down on a patch of dirt in the sun and put the fireball on the ground.
“A convex lens takes a beam of light and concentrates the rays on one spot,” she said. “If you hold it at the right distance from an object, it generates a lot of heat.”
“That’s not gonna work,” David said.
“Maybe not,” Julia admitted.
She held the lens above the cotton ball. The circle of sunlight was about an inch wide, so Julia moved the lens closer. The circle got smaller, until it was a tiny white pinpoint.
“I used to do that with bugs in the field across from my house,” Henry said. “But they never caught on fire.”
“Burning bugs is sick,” Arcadia said.
“ All guys do that,” I told her.
“All guys are sick,” Arcadia said.
Suddenly, a tiny puff of smoke came off the cotton ball.
“It’s working!” Mrs. Herschel said.
Julia held the lens
“We could really use some paper,” she said.
“Where are we gonna get paper?” David said.
“Oh, I have some,” said Mrs. Herschel. She reached into her pocket and took out those hundred dollar bills.
“You’re going to use bills to get the fire started?” Arcadia asked.
“The money won’t do Annie any good,” Mrs. Herschel said. “I don’t think you can change a hundred in heaven.”
“Rip it into the thinnest strips you possibly can,” Julia told Mrs. Herschel.
“That’s a hundred bucks!” David said as Mrs. Herschel tore the bill down the middle. “What if we can’t get a fire going?”
“Then I wasted a hundred dollars,” Julia admitted.
Mrs. Herschel gave each of us a hundred-dollar bill and we shredded them into tiny strips. Julia mashed the strips up into a big, fluffy ball the same way you would make a snowball. Then she pushed one of the Vaseline-covered cotton balls partly into it.
“This has got to rank up there with the dumbest things I’ve ever seen,” David said. “That’s six hundred bucks you just tore up.”
“It’s a fireball,” Julia explained. “Vaseline is petroleum jelly. Petroleum burns.”
“But how are you going to light it?” Arcadia asked.
“Does anybody have a magnifying glass?” Julia asked.
“Of course we don’t have a magnifying glass!” David said. “Why didn’t you think of that before you ripped up the six hundred bucks?”
“Oh, get stuffed,” Mrs. Herschel told him. “It’s not your money.”
“Any glass might do,” Julia said. “Do we have a bottle? Binoculars? A piece of the windshield might even work.”
“My friend, Agnes, loved taking pictures,” Mrs. Herschel said excitedly. “I’m pretty sure she had a camera in her suitcase.”
“Can you look, please?” Julia said.
Mrs. Herschel went through the suitcases until she found her friend’s camera. It was a nice one, not one of those junky little disposables or a PHD camera (push here, dummy).
“Would it be it okay to take it apart?” Julia asked. “We only need the lens.”
Mrs. Herschel tried to pull the lens off, but it wouldn’t unscrew. She looked at the camera for a moment, and I thought she was going to hand it to one of us, but she didn’t. Instead, she raised the camera up over her head and smashed it against a rock. It broke into a few pieces and the lens fell off.
“Agnes won’t mind,” said Mrs. Herschel.
“Maybe it’s still under warranty,” Henry said.
Julia breathed on the lens and wiped it with her T-shirt. Then she looked up into the trees. It must have been around noon. We were in the shade, but I could tell the sun was high in the sky.
“Let’s move over there,” Julia said, pointing to a patch of sun between the trees about thirty feet away.
Each of us grabbed a pile of sticks. Julia carried the camera lens and her fireball. She sat down on a patch of dirt in the sun and put the fireball on the ground.
“A convex lens takes a beam of light and concentrates the rays on one spot,” she said. “If you hold it at the right distance from an object, it generates a lot of heat.”
“That’s not gonna work,” David said.
“Maybe not,” Julia admitted.
She held the lens above the cotton ball. The circle of sunlight was about an inch wide, so Julia moved the lens closer. The circle got smaller, until it was a tiny white pinpoint.
“I used to do that with bugs in the field across from my house,” Henry said. “But they never caught on fire.”
“Burning bugs is sick,” Arcadia said.
“ All guys do that,” I told her.
“All guys are sick,” Arcadia said.
Suddenly, a tiny puff of smoke came off the cotton ball.
“It’s working!” Mrs. Herschel said.
Julia held the lens
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