Life Lost and Found

20: A Kind of Magic

Tuesday, October 28

Covered in dust and grime, Madeline emerged from the furnace closet once more to check the manual. She perused the thick pamphlet while her hips bobbed to the song playing on her phone.

Her research earlier had brought her to the conclusion that the furnace wasn't working because of something called a "thermocouple". A quick trip to True Value had gotten her a new one, and with one last glance at the instructions, she was ready to install it. She reentered the closet, carefully screwed in the new part, and reattached the gas line.

Thermocouple. It just sounded so cool. And why shouldn't it? She was, after all, a brilliant scientist on a dangerous mission to repair the engine of a derelict nuclear submarine—a submarine which, naturally, harbored a dark and terrible secret. A secret which her government could not allow to fall into enemy hands at any cost. It was a matter of national security, and it was all up to her.

Oh, and Sean Connery was there. And Nathan Fillion, though no one knew why. (Not that it mattered. He could be anywhere he wanted.)

Madeline The Brilliant Scientist Upon Whom The World Depended, PhD, took a steadying breath as she reached for the nuclear fuel (gas) lever and pulled it. She scrambled out of the reactor chamber, backed against the wall, and carefully sniffed the air for traces of radiation (gas) leaks. Had she done it? Or would the submarine catastrophically detonate, bringing an end to the entirety of Western civilization in the process?

She checked the time on her phone. Three minutes down and no hint of impending global ruination. She waited three more. Still good.

She hesitantly knelt in front of the furnace. She was tempted to use her gun for the next part and may well have done so, had Sean Connery not reminded her that "some things in here don't react well to bullets". She turned the internal valve to the pilot setting, put her gun away, and grabbed a match. She closed one eye, struck the match, then started the pilot light.

To everyone's surprise, the house did not explode. She extracted herself from the closet and leaned against the wall, wiping her forehead. It was good to have that over with. "You owe me for this, Mr. Connery," she said seductively. "Mr. Fillion, you stick around too." (She aimed to misbehave.)

The others (the real people who lived here) were going to be pleased. There had been a fairly heated argument last night about how cold the house was, and she had seen sides of her roommates that—fortunately—didn't often find expression. Everyone, including the reclusive Megan, had been in the living room watching some show about a Southern politician who kept speaking to the camera. Madeline had been at the table, locked in epic combat with her brain. The goal: force it to pay attention to her homework for ten straight minutes. She had managed about one hundred seconds—of looking at the clock—when an argument burst out of nowhere like an exploding pressure cooker.

(She'd seen that once. An exploding pressure cooker. A huge boom, followed by noodles and peas flying all over the kitchen. And a very scalded Page. She liked Page, a lot, but that had been very cool to watch. Awe-inspiring even.)

Yeah. What had she been thinking about?

Oh, right—her roommates going nuts. It had gone down like this: Why can't someone get the stupid furnace fixed? Syd should do it. No, it's our home, we should do it! Who then? Well, Gina's in charge, she should. She's too busy! She's always too busy! No, I'm not! Yes, you are! I'll do it! You said that last time, and you never did! Should not some kind of fixer-man do it? What ist that called? It's called a heating professional, you little moron! Shut up, Megan! You shut up, Gina! Why don't you go hide in your room and let the people with lives take care of it? Excuse me? You heard me. Oh, sure, like any of you are paying rent! We all earn our keep, you spoiled brat. Oh yeah, and how do you earn your keep, Page? Looking pretty? Hey, their deals with Sydney are none of your business. Sydney gave you a deal, and you sucked at it. That's why Maddy's here now.