The Colossal Camera Calamity Read Online Free Page B

his university days and is two sizes two small. The mother hates it. On this point, I have to agree with her. Dad loves it, though. He insists that it’s his lucky sweater. Lucky for what?
    As we filed into the classroom, Dad attempted several times to change my mind about the mother. “Think how you’d feel if your daughter didn’t want you around?” he said.
    “The question is meaningless,” I replied. “I don’t have a daughter.”
    He tried again. “How would you feel if Katherine didn’t want you around?”
    Again, the question was without merit. Lizards have limited emotional responses.
    Dr Mehat and Mr Love greeted everyone on the shortlist warmly. Mr Love commented on the mother’s absence. The father said she was tied up at work. Mr Love seemed to approve. “Probably for the best,” he said.
    Dr Mehat then spoke in generalities about the institute and the summer programme – information which I was already familiar with from the institute’s website. I observed her intently, though, to try and find in her speech, her choice of words, her body language any insight into her character that I could take advantage of in the formal interview. She gave nothing away, so I began to use this time to size up my competition.
    There were ten candidates in all, including Molly Phillips. Molly shows no real vigour in her studies and has gravitated to the flaky subject of cold fusion simply to sound smart.
    Amit Kahn was also in attendance.
    I know little about him or his studies. He is in the year above me. I watched him a moment. He wore small horn-rimmed glasses, which he adjusted frequently, when not biting his nails. His eyes, however, showed a look of calm intelligence. I will have to make an effort to get to know him better.
    After a brief observation of the other contestants, I concluded that none of them posed a threat. I watched Mr Love for a while. He was staring intently and at great length and with great interest at a full-size skeleton of a baboon.
    After the welcome meeting, we went to wait our turn. I must admit that I became slightly nervous at this time.
    Dad noticed and told me to relax. “You don’t want to choke when you get to the crease,” he said.
    I had no idea what he was talking about and told him so.
    “I’m talking cricket,” he said. “If you’re too uptight, you’ll be out for a duck. Stay loose and you can hit it for six.”
    I asked him if this was supposed to be helping.
    He said he was trying to “prep me for the big game” and went on to mention several more analogies having to do with cricket. I did not appreciate his comparing scientific excellence with a mindless sporting event. “If anyone needs prepping, it’s you,” I said.
    He was outraged by this. “I interview people for a living!” he said. “There’s nothing the doc can throw at me that I can’t handle.”
    I then asked him a few basic questions about the institute and the “Leg-Up Future Achievers” Summer Session. It turned out he knew nothing whatsoever about either.
    “We might as well not bother going in,” I told him, “if you can’t even say what it is you like about the institute.”
    “She’s not going to ask me that question. You’re the one applying for the course.”
    I told him that he was here to show support for my interest in science. To which he replied, “We bought you a lizard, didn’t we?”
    I dearly wished Katherine was with me. She would have been of more use.
    I became even more tense then, and grew more so as the wait dragged on, especially when I heard each applicant exit the interview room to laughter and friendly words from Dr Mehat. Several times I considered asking my dad to leave before the interview.
    At 12:29 p.m., one minute exactly before my interview with Dr Mehat was scheduled to begin, my plans started to unravel.
    The mother, perhaps sensing an opportunity to ruin my life for ever, chose that moment to call Dad on his mobile. I begged him not to answer