The following piece was written by Lael Chisholm as part of her Level 3 writing portfolio in 2015. Lael was our Dux and also gained Scholarships in both English and Graphics. Since leaving school Lael has won the 2017 Gavin Bishop Award for Illustration – quite an achievement for an artist not yet 20. The book concerned, “Granny McFlitter The Champion Knitter”, is due for publication next month.
I was a very negative particle before I met H2. Life had no meaning for me and I never really had anyone that I could form a strong bond with. H2 was the opposite. So positive and happy, she embraced life with endless enthusiasm. We were instantly attracted to each other and formed what we call a ‘Water’ relationship: H2O. In most water relationships, ours included, life runs along smoothly. There is never an obstacle too big for us to move over, under or around, and we never have misunderstandings because everything is always crystal clear to us. Sure, we go through rocky patches sometimes but it takes more than a bit of bumping and bubbles to split us up. For centuries, Oxygen and Hydrogen atoms have been bonding together, staying strong through thick and thin, and for years they would continue to.
Or so I thought.
It was all over the news one particularly muggy day. “H2O molecules all over the world are claiming that they ‘don’t want to be together anymore.’” I watched H2 out of the corner of my eye. She was sitting as far away from me as possible while still inhabiting the same couch, eyes glued to the TV. I sighed. The forces that kept us together seemed to be weakening every day, and I had no control over it. The news reporter moved on, now informing us of the intense wave of heat that was sweeping the world. Temperatures climbing far above what they had ever been before. Reaching for the remote, I changed the channel. We had already heard about that.
But apparently there was more.
The next channel had President Watersby naming the climate change ‘ The Great Vaporisation,’ and the channel after that showed crowds singing about the end of the world, when believers would be evaporated up into heaven. The last channel was the National Scientific channel. A Nitrogen atom was explaining something on a blackboard swarming with numbers and diagrams. “And this, folks,” he was saying, “means that when the temperature increases, the attractive forces between the atoms are broken, and as a result the particles are separated. For example, if we have H2O, the energy from the heat will split th-…”
We sat staring at the blank screen of the TV for what seemed like hours, H2’s hand still clenched around the remote like a clam.
O pried the remote from my trembling hands and returned it to the coffee table. His face was grave, his furrowed brow betraying his negative thoughts. I could tell he was losing hope fast. “Be positive,” I reminded myself. “I have to be positive.” With this thought in mind, I bounced up off the couch and made my way to the kitchen. “I’ll make us some lunch,” I called out enthusiastically. But even I couldn’t ignore the hint of desperation in my voice, the faint undertone of helplessness wavering in the stifling heat waves in the air.
This weather really was unbearable.
It was a strained lunch, with O sinking further into depression and me trying to lighten the mood with irrelevant stories and questions. I was beginning to annoy myself, with all my incessant chatter and forced laughter. Why was I always so overly positive when things went wrong? I felt like there was a cord of elastic tied between O and I that was stretching tighter and tighter, and the only way I could cope with the tension was to pretend everything was fine. And everything was fine, wasn’t it? We were still together – still happily together.
Everything was great.
Everything was terrible.
And I could tell that H2 was worried because she was talking a mile a minute about nothing and had a big, fake smile pasted on her face, her mood seeming to improve almost as fast as mine deteriorated. What were we going to do? How could we save our relationship when it seemed like the forces of nature were against us? I couldn’t in ignore it anymore – the blatant truth was scorchingly obvious: the rising temperatures were the cause of our relationship troubles. And since we had no control over the weather, we were doomed.
“Breaking news!” The TV announcer’s excited voice broke through my thoughts like a bucket of ice cold water, trickling through my brain and gathering into a small puddle of hope in my stomach. “Scientists have discovered a way to save H2O molecules!” The camera flicked to the Nitrogen atom from the National Scientific channel. He was in a blustery room, the wind pelting his hair and flapping his tie back and forth like a flag. He was squinting and blinking manically, a massive grin straining across his face.
“AIR CONDITIONING!” He shouted. “KEEPS THE TEMPERATURE DOWN!”
H2 leapt up off the couch and squealed, but I tried to remain calm. After all, it might not even work – there was no use getting our hopes up about it.
H2 obviously didn’t agree. “We have to get an air conditioner!” she exclaimed excitedly as she ran out the door.
“It won’t work,” I called out after her. But she
was gone.
It did work.
The soothing, refreshing air from the air conditioner swirled around H2 and I in gentle waves, restoring us to our normal selves and somehow reducing the strain between us. It was like magic! I could feel my dark mood lifting, blowing away in the breeze and being replaced with contentment and relief. Our strong bond had returned once again like an old friend, and I knew that no matter what tidal wave or storm we encountered, we would stand strong together through thick and thin for many years to come.