Boomtown (3 page)

But Jonny—who had just turned thirteen—was so incredibly
smart
. He had a natural aptitude for math and science and engineering. I thought he might grow up to build skyscrapers or bridges or rockets to the stars. But he tended to be lazy in school; he had some trouble paying attention; he was always dreaming of imaginary worlds and fantasy adventures. Instead of finishing his homework, he'd doodle dragons and knights in the margins.

So who could say? Prince Jonathan of the Bible ended up taking matters into his own hands—to the chagrin of his father, but to the ultimate salvation of his people. Maybe my Jonathan would end up doing the same thing. I'd have to wait and see.

Ruth was everything the other two were not. She was six-teen, in high school, beautiful like her mother, and exceptionally responsible. As the oldest sibling, she too had been aptly named. Ruth, from the book of the same name, was gentle and quiet and faithful, a servant to everyone. When I looked at my older daughter, I saw a young grown-up. I could always count on Ruth to watch over her younger—and less predictable—siblings.

I shook the hand Han-wu offered and continued the introductions. “This is our driver, Lars, from the moving company. This is my wife, Janice, and our three children, whom you've already met. And I'm the father of this group, Arthur Button. The
Reverend
Arthur Button. Perhaps you've heard—the new pastor over at Boomtown Church?”

Han-wu gave me a warm smile. “Reverend Button! Of course! We heard you were coming. It's an honor to welcome you to Boomtown.”

He introduced the others who were standing with him, each of whom bowed respectfully as their names were called. “These are three of the members of my research team, Lu-shan, Tong, and Wei. We all work together in that building over there.” He pointed across the pond at a smaller outbuilding near the driveway entrance.

After the introductions, Han-wu turned his attention back to Jonny. “You were wondering what we're testing this morning? You like gadgets? Machines? Rockets? That sort of thing?”

“I
love
all that stuff!” Jonny answered excitedly. “My favorite thing is my Erector Set. I make cars and Ferris wheels and trains and weird machines. I like the motors and all the gears. And
rockets
! I always wanted a rocket, but my dad won't let me have one,” he frowned, glancing at me. “Is that what you got out there on the boat? A rocket?”

“Exactly so. Except it's not a boat, not precisely. Why don't you follow me so we can get a better look at it?”

We followed Han-wu across the road and down a small slope where we could stand next to the water. “This is Popgun Pond, and the small stream you see flowing in and out of it is the canal we dug to form the pond. It also supplies water for the factory and for the fire hydrants—in case of emergency.” We could see brightly painted red fire hydrants scattered over the factory yard. “We try our best to avoid using those. Safety First, that's our motto!”

He pointed at the boat with the rocket mounted inside. “The boat-shaped object you see out there is actually one of our testing platforms. Whenever we want to test something new—and potentially dangerous—we put it on one of those boats, float it out into the middle of the pond, and anchor it down with ropes and weights. This morning we're testing a new rocket motor, something with a little more power than anything we've tried in the past.”

“A rocket motor?” I asked. “Exactly what are you planning to shoot off with that thing?”

“Fietann, he's the current manager of the fireworks factory, has been wanting to build this rocket for a while now. So far, we've had to build all our fireworks displays on the
ground
and shoot individual rockets up into the air. You're familiar with how that works?”

“Sure,” I answered, “I've been to the big fireworks show in Pasadena, the one they have at the Rose Bowl every year. They build a large launching platform with hundreds of launch tubes for all the rockets. I've seen that.”

Han-wu explained, “Fie-tann was wondering if we could lift the fireworks display
off
the ground. Instead of shooting all the rockets from down
here
, we'd lift them up and set them off from up
there
,” he said, pointing upward. “For that we need to build a powerful rocket engine. If it works, then we'll build four of them and mount them to a larger rocket tube. Together, they'll have the lifting strength we need to get our fireworks display airborne.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why not? Can you imagine if we get this to work? We'll be able to ship an entire fireworks display in
one
container—anywhere in the world. San Francisco, Denver, Dallas, Tallahassee, New York, Paris, London, and so on. Set it up on its end, unpack the crate, light the fuse, launch the rockets, and once it's airborne it will go off all by itself —automatic.”

I stared at him incredulously. “But what if something goes wrong? What if the rocket takes off in the wrong direction? What if the whole thing just blows up on the ground? People could get hurt. You could knock down a building. You've got to
think
about those sorts of things!”

“That's what
testing
is for,” smiled Han-wu, dismissing my concerns with a wave of his hand. “We shoot off a test rocket and correct for any problems. And besides that, it's a lot of
fun
! Isn't that right, Jonny?”

When Jonny didn't answer, I turned to look for him, but he wasn't anywhere to be found.

“Jonny? Sarah?
Now
what are they up to? They were standing here a minute ago.”

We started looking around, thinking Jonny and Sarah had gone over to the fireworks factory to get a closer look. Maybe they were heading around to the other side of the pond. Ruth hadn't seen them go. Neither had Janice. Suddenly, Han-wu spotted them back up on the road.

“There they are!” he pointed.

I wasn't there to witness it, but after it was all over, I man-aged to weed the whole story out of my two wayward children. >Apparently after Jonny heard about the rocket test he whispered in Sarah's ear, “Let's go take a look at the launcher!” They scampered back up the slope and stood next to the metal stand while Jonny explained to Sarah how he thought it might work.

“Look here,” he said, indicating the black box on the ground. “I think that's the battery. These wires run up to the panel here and hook into the switches. That red switch, the one with the yellow square around it, that's probably the trigger button. When you flip it, the battery power runs through the wires and goes out to the rocket boat. That's how I
think
it works, anyway.”

Sarah said, “Then what?”

“Then the electricity sets off an ignition pack and that lights the rocket fuel and then it blasts off!” Jonny said knowingly. “ I read all about it in a copy of
Popular Science
.”

Sarah stood on her tiptoes to get a better look at the control panel. You mean
this
switch right here?” she asked.

“Don't
touch
it!” Jonny hissed, grabbing for his sister.

By then it was too late. By the time we started yelling at them to get back, Sarah had already flipped the switch and ignited the rocket motor. Gouts of flame and smoke flared out of the nozzle. The deafening roar of the engine split the air. We cringed at the noise, covering our ears with our hands and spinning around to see what was happening. Workers from the fireworks factory heard the noise, and in a few moments fire crews came running out of the buildings carrying coils of hoses and wrenches so they could hook up to the fire hydrants and turn on the water. The noise got louder and louder as men and women scattered in every direction shouting and waving their arms.

At first I couldn't figure what all the commotion was about. True, the rocket wasn't supposed to be set off by my
children
, but it
was
supposed to go off—that was the plan—so at first I didn't know why everyone was panicking. But I soon saw what everyone else had already seen. The ropes and the anchors weren't strong enough. The boat was heading across the pond and picking up speed.

“Run!”
shouted Han-wu. “Run for your lives!”

I couldn't hear what he said over the ear-shattering blast of the rocket boat that had turned into a projectile. It was all I could do to stumble over to Janice and Ruth and grab their hands and pull them around the far end of the pond, opposite from the direction of where the rocket was pointing. At least, that's where it
used
to be pointing until the ropes finally tore loose and the rocket boat broke free. Now it was a boat
missile
as it gained speed, hit the edge of the pond, and launched into the air. The weight of the boat caused it to spin wildly, first turning toward the fireworks factory where it chased a group of workers across the asphalt, and then it spun around and headed straight back in the direction from where it had come. Now it was on a trajectory straight to where Jonny and Sarah stood gaping wide-eyed and frozen on the road. It probably would have flattened them if it hadn't spun sideways and headed directly toward the moving truck and our car. It bounced off the roof of the truck and was deflected, this time in the direction of where the girls and I were trying to escape.

“Get down!” shrieked Janice, throwing her body on top of Ruth. They fell in a tangled heap at my feet, while I continued to stumble forward. I watched the rocket loop left and then right, barely missing our station wagon, bouncing off a tree, through some nearby bushes, scraping along the ground, skip-ping down the driveway and making a beeline for my head.

At the very last second, Lars the truck driver, a former pro football linebacker, grabbed me in a running tackle and drove me head over heels into the pond.
Splash!
Down I went with a three-hundred-pound man on my chest and the air knocked out of my lungs—just in the nick of time!

As I went under the water and sank in the mud, I saw the rocket streak over our heads. What I
didn't
see was the moment it smashed into the research building in a shower of shattering glass and flying furniture. Under the water, I felt the explosion when the rocket detonated, igniting all the flammable materials stored in the lab. I surfaced sputtering and gasping for air in time to see the building as a raging inferno, surrounded by teams of firefighters from the factory as they tried to extinguish the flames.

The conflagration was fueled by bursts of silver and gold and red and green sparks as various chemicals and compounds ignited in the blaze. We could hear the whistle of Piccolo Petes and the staccato bursts of firecrackers and the flash of sparklers and Roman candles as they exploded from the heat. In fact, if it weren't for the absolute devastation of the building, you could have almost described it as “pretty.” But it
wasn't
pretty.

Not in the least.

While Janice and the others helped Lars and me out of the pond, Ruth ran to our car to fetch some towels. I thanked Lars for saving my life, even though it felt like I'd been hit by a freight train. Han-wu ran around making sure that no one was hurt in the accident, while Fie-tann, manager of the factory, made sure the fire didn't spread to the rest of the complex. The workers fought to get the blaze under control. There were hoses and bucket brigades everywhere you looked.

During all of the chaos, Jonny and Sarah had slipped behind the moving truck, where they took a few moments to decide which country they should run away to. They found a hiding spot behind the front tire where they waited for the next explosion, the one that would happen once I got my hands on them. I came around the corner and found the two of them crouched down in a huddle, shivering like two rabbits caught in a trap. I stood over them, hair and clothes dripping from the pond, a thunderstorm painted on my face. The two children could guess what was coming next.

Sarah whimpered, “I'm
Sorry
?”

“
Sorry
?! You're
Sorry
?! You're
gonna
be Sorry!”

I gathered what was left of my raveled nerves and prepared to unleash a barrage of angry words upon my two children just as I heard the sound of the research building collapsing. The ground shook as the roof and walls caved in, raising a cloud of ash and smoke, until all that was left was a pile of smoldering rubble. I watched it through the windows of the truck.

As it tumbled down, so did my out-of-control anger. Yelling wasn't going to fix anything.
Nothing
could fix this. Instead, I pictured the crumbling building taking my career as a pastor down with it. How was I ever going to face the people of Boomtown after something like this? This wasn't a dryer full of melted marshmallows or a cat covered in Vaseline. This was the disaster to beat all disasters!

Deflated?
Absolutely.
Mortified?
Certainly.
Embarrassed?
No doubt about it. But there simply isn't a single word to describe how I was feeling. I don't think the dictionary has
invented
the word for it yet.