The Lightning Catcher

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Authors: Anne Cameron
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been convinced that the declaration was somebody’s idea of a joke. But there was something dangerous in the very air at Perilous. What was it Edmund Croxley had warned him about—toxic miasmas, poisonous fogs, and infectious odors? A sudden vision of the mysterious fire dragon on the door to the Lightnarium also flashed into his thoughts, but he quickly shook it off again. He didn’t have time to think about any of it now. The second bell could ring at any second, and he wanted to be ready for it. He read the rest of the declaration, feeling distinctly clammy.
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    I also understand that there is a big possibility that I will get my eyebrows singed, fingers squashed, ankles smashed, or elbows crushed during my time as a lightning cub, and that this will be nobody’s fault but my own. If I had listened to the safety instructions issued by the lightning catchers in the first place, it never would have happened.
    So let that be a lesson to me.
    Finally, I agree never to divulge any of the weather secrets I will be learning to anyone outside of the Exploratorium, even if they offer to do my homework for the next seven years.
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    Angus found a pen on a small desk in the corner of his room; he wondered for a moment if he ought to sign the declaration with his real name or the one he’d been forced to adopt by Principal Dark-Angel. And in the end, he scribbled down something so illegible it looked like he was now called Angus Von Dungbeetle.
    He stuffed the declaration into one of his voluminous pockets and was just about to venture out into the hall, to see if anyone else was waiting for the second bell to ring, when his fingers touched a small square box at the bottom of his pocket.
    The box looked exactly like the kind that came from a jeweler’s shop. He lifted the lid cautiously and peered inside it—half expecting to find some dangerous weather instrument he would be expected to use later. Instead it contained the most amazing watch he’d ever seen in his life.
    A note had been stuck to the inside of the box. It read:
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    Your weather watch is a highly valuable piece of equipment. You are permitted to remove it in the shower building and during your monsoon training only. If you are caught without it at any other time, you will find yourself on boot-cleaning duty for the rest of the year. You have been warned.
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    Angus grinned. Uncle Max had made him a screaming alarm clock for Christmas once, but the weather watch was even more magnificent. It had a built-in thermometer, compass, and barometer, as well as an ordinary clock for telling the time. At that precise moment, tiny silvery clouds were scudding across this shiny face, partially obscuring a dazzling golden sun. Angus stared at the clouds in awe. Then he fiddled with the hour hand, watching carefully as the sun began to set and a luminous moon appeared in an inky black sky, followed by countless twinkling stars. He had just enough time to make out the minute constellations of Orion and the Plough before several shooting stars shot suddenly across the horizon, leaving a trail of sparkling dust.
    â€œWOW!” he gasped, watching the brilliant spectacle before setting the watch back to the correct time again.
    He turned it over then, and was surprised to find that his real name, Angus McFangus, had been engraved in sweeping, curly letters on the back. He slipped it onto his wrist quickly, hoping that no one else would ever see his name there and start asking questions for which he had absolutely no answers.
    Two minutes later, the second bell rang. Angus opened his door and poked his head into the hallway, just in time to see half a dozen other lightning cubs emerging from their own rooms. The door that led to the girls’ end of the hall was also open. He was extremely relieved to see that he wasn’t the only one wearing a shiny yellow poncho. A girl with long hair the color of horse chestnuts was struggling to keep

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