

Alan Gent
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Another Story
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How to Make a Rainbow
The rain drummed like giant fingers on the roof of our shed, and ran in little rivers over the drive. Dad was happy. He’d been miserable all summer. “Just what we need” he said. Well, I was stuck indoors. I wanted to go and play with Bert. He lives next door and got a new bike for his birthday. He won’t ride it to school though, and still uses his old one. Quite suddenly, the rain stopped, and a patch in the clouds allowed a little sunlight to peep through. “Great”, I thought, I might still have time to go next door.” The rain wasn’t quite through with us yet, though, and still danced on the puddles by the step. I looked up, and there it was! The most beautiful rainbow I’d ever seen. It started way over in Patterson’s field, and arched up high in the sky, ending up down by the river. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. The colours were brilliant! What was that my teacher said: “Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet.” I said them over to myself. I felt quite proud to have remembered them. The rainbow started to fade. It lifted away from the river first, and rapidly disappeared. Back came the rain again, and I turned away from the window. “Oh, well,” I thought, may as well find something to do. In the kitchen, Mum was cooking one of her cakes. “Just in time to clean out the bowl,” she said. “Thanks Mum.” I set to work. “Mum,” I said between licks of the spoon, “how do you make a rainbow?” She wiped her hands on the teacloth. “Ask your dad,” she replied. She always said that. Like the time I saw a shooting star, and asked where it came from. Or why the jam inside the doughnut was always hotter than the outside. Dad was trying to find something in the drawers of his desk. He was always losing things. He didn’t like to ask Mum, because she kept reminding him he was always losing things, and he hated that. “Dad,” I said. “How do you make a rainbow?” “You can’t,” he replied. “Nature does it.” He kept shuffling papers. “No, I mean, how do you make those colours. I saw it in a book.” He stopped shuffling, and fixed me with one of his ‘Dad’ looks. “Well, then, you should have read it, shouldn’t you.” He always did that. I waited, and watched him shuffle for a while. “You need a prism,” he said. A prism. “What’s a ….” I stopped myself, because I could see he was getting impatient, not being able to find what he wanted. When I got back to the living room, I noticed the rain had stopped, and the sun shone brightly through a huge gap in the clouds. “Mum,” I said, “can I go out? It’s not raining now.”
“Well,” she replied, “don’t go far. It might start up again any minute”.
Bert wasn’t in when I called. His Mum said he’d gone down to Talangup with his father to visit his auntie. Bert was always saying his Mum couldn’t stand her sister. I decided to walk down to the shop. Old Jasper was out walking his dog. I thought “I bet he knows.” “Jasper,” I said, “did you see the rainbow?” “Can’t say that I did, young fellow,” the old man said. “But I’ve seen plenty in my time.” I asked the question. “How do you make a rainbow, then?” The old man scratched his stubbly chin, and looked at me thoughtfully. He stooped down and put his wrinkly old face level with mine. With a twinkle in his eye he said: “You need crystal.” Then he chuckled as he straightened up and walked his big old dog down the street.
Blue sky was clearly visible to the west, and there were long intervals of sunshine by the time I got to the shop, and Mr. Barrett was taking the rain covers off his fresh fruit stands. “Hi Tom,” he said. “What can I do for you?” I came straight to the point. “I just want to know how you make a rainbow, Mr. B. I’ve asked my dad and he says I need a prism, and Old Jasper reckons I can use crystal. What do you think?” He scratched his head thoughtfully for a minute, then replied: “Well, I always thought you had to use a prism, like your dad says. When I was a kid that’s what we used at school. I didn’t know you could use crystal. I suppose old Jasper’s thinking of the colours you get when you look at a chandelier. I’d go with a prism though.”
At school the next day, there was a new girl. She wasn’t in my form class, but I saw her at recess. She had some of the older boys fussing over her. She was very pretty, with dark hair that curved down below her shoulders. I felt a sort of fluttering in my stomach when I looked at her. I couldn’t understand why I felt nervous.
After recess we had science, and I waited until the end of the lesson before I asked Mr. Aimes about the rainbow. “You need a prism, Tom,” he said. “We’ll be doing that next term, but it’s in the text book.” “What about crystal?” I said. “Can you use that?” “Well, it would have to be the right shape, but it wouldn’t be as good as a prism,” he replied. “Just wait till next term. I’ll see if I can remember to bring in a crystal, and you can see what I mean.”
I looked at the text book, like Mr. Aimes had said, and sure enough, it showed how rainbow colours could be made when light shone through a prism. I read about a bloke called Isaac Newton, and I felt quite clever. It didn’t say anything about a crystal.
Lunchtime came, and it was probably thinking about rainbows that made me forget my lunch. I rushed back to my bag in the locker area to get it, and ran right into the new girl. We both fell over on the grass in a tangle of arms and legs. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I blustered. I started to pick up the books I’d knocked out of her hand. She sat up and watched me. “It’s OK. I wasn’t looking either. There’s so much to think about. It’s my first day.” I opened my mouth to speak, but when I looked at her, that fluttery feeling got into my stomach again. My mouth was dry, and I just stared. She held out her hand. “Please help me up,” she said. I pulled her to her feet, and she didn’t let go of my hand for a long minute. She just looked me in the eyes. “I hope we can be friends,” she said. Then, suddenly: “I have to go.” I watched her walking quickly away, with that beautiful hair swinging across her shoulders. My voice came back. “I’m Tom,” I called after her. She half turned and called: “I’m….” But the words were lost as a crowd of upper school boys ran between us, shouting and laughing.
All afternoon my mind was swimming. “I hope we can be friends….” she’d said. And I didn’t even know her name. “And what’s the answer, Carter?” It was Mr. Tarlic, our maths teacher. I jerked to attention. I’d been daydreaming! “I…Uhh,” I stuttered. “Come on!” he said, “What’s the other angle?” He rapped on the board with the piece of chalk. Behind me James Bowen whispered: “Forty-Two degrees.” “Forty-two degrees,” I replied. “Was that a lucky guess, Carter? Never mind. Pay attention next time!” Mr. Tarlic moved on round the class.
The afternoon was a blur. I just couldn’t think of anything else but that vision retreating across the yard. The final bell sounded and I headed out to my bike. Over at the bus area a small crowd had gathered. I saw it was the older boys surrounding the new girl. “Ah well,” I thought, with a sinking feeling in my stomach, “It would have been nice….” I got on my bike and was starting to ride off, when I heard a familiar voice. I stopped and looked around. It was the new girl. “Hey, Tom!” she ran over to me. “It’s my birthday on Saturday. I haven’t got many friends here and it would be great if you could come.” My mouth was dry again, but I managed to say: “Yes…yes, of course I’ll come. It would be great….” And with a toss of that hair, she was off again. “Great. See you Saturday, then. It’s the new house next door to old Jasper’s. About 7 o’clock.” Then I realised I still didn’t know her name. James Bowen was standing behind me and said: “Some people have all the luck. Looks as though Crystal likes you.” Crystal. Her name was Crystal. Suddenly I remembered Jasper’s wrinkled face and the sparkle in those old eyes. It hit me like a thunderbolt.
I don’t need to make rainbows. Suddenly my world was full of them. I’ve got Crystal.
Another Poem
Evil
Alan Gent
Every time I read the news I’m told of something bad -
A murder here, a stabbing there and such things make me sad.
Oh, here’s a suicidal man of questionable faith,
He’s blown up loads of people in his great misguided wrath.
Do you believe that there’s a God who oversees these acts -
Who’s focussed on ‘the greater good’ and we can’t see the facts?
That we’re too small to understand the purpose of these things
And when we reach the Day of Judgement final wisdom rings?
Well, I can’t see that little children need to die to show
That we are such a stupid race and we could never know
The deeper meanings of these things and in the eyes of those
Gods in heaven we are only animals in clothes.
Perhaps there’s Evil in the World in every one of us
Scratch the surface – there it is, like dripping awful pus.
We like to think we’re ‘civilized’, our destiny’s assured
Since we did that awful thing to someone we call Lord.
I don’t think that any God would want the World to be
In such a state of awfulness, a state of anarchy.
No God or gods or men from space would countenance a plan
That’s bound to lead us in the end to terminus of Man.
Look at cows and sheep and goats and chickens come to that -
They’re not as stupid as you think – they know just where it’s at.
They grow up with their Mum and Dad who quickly learnt the plan,
That they’re just here to satisfy the appetites of Man.
There is no God for them at all, they live from day to day,
They love their kids, they eat their food and sometimes even play.
They never find the time to do those evil deeds we do,
They’re just too busy living life in ways that we eschew.
Oh yes, there’s Evil in the World – we saw it in the wars
Where stupid people killed their friends and cruelty explored –
‘I was told to do those things’ was late the plaintive cry
As they faced the rope or gun prepared by men to die.
What can we do, just you and I, to stop these awful things?
Can we stamp out Evil ways and deep-felt festerings?
Can we just refuse to bend to wills of nasty men
Who try to tell us what to do, and evil plans defend?
Or do we just submit the way that Man has always done,
To just accept the fact we’re just a tiny One -
Too small to make a difference, and try to show them all.
Certainly not worth the risk, why deal with it at all?
We have to try, we have to make this brotherhood of Man
A race of truly civilised beings if we can.
Time is fast unravelling – the clock is ticking down.
Stop waves of Evil choking us – if not we’ll surely drown.
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Evil
Every time I read the news I’m told of something bad -
A murder here, a stabbing there and such things make me sad.
Oh, here’s a suicidal man of questionable faith,
He’s blown up loads of people in his great misguided wrath.
Do you believe that there’s a God who oversees these acts -
Who’s focussed on ‘the greater good’ and we can’t see the facts?
That we’re too small to understand the purpose of these things
And when we reach the Day of Judgement final wisdom rings?
Well, I can’t see that little children need to die to show
That we are such a stupid race and we could never know
The deeper meanings of these things and in the eyes of those
Gods in heaven we are only animals in clothes.
Perhaps there’s Evil in the World in every one of us
Scratch the surface – there it is, like dripping awful pus.
We like to think we’re ‘civilized’, our destiny’s assured
Since we did that awful thing to someone we call Lord.
I don’t think that any God would want the World to be
In such a state of awfulness, a state of anarchy.
No God or gods or men from space would countenance a plan
That’s bound to lead us in the end to terminus of Man.
Look at cows and sheep and goats and chickens come to that -
They’re not as stupid as you think – they know just where it’s at.
They grow up with their Mum and Dad who quickly learnt the plan,
That they’re just here to satisfy the appetites of Man.
There is no God for them at all, they live from day to day,
They love their kids, they eat their food and sometimes even play.
They never find the time to do those evil deeds we do,
They’re just too busy living life in ways that we eschew.
Oh yes, there’s Evil in the World – we saw it in the wars
Where stupid people killed their friends and cruelty explored –
‘I was told to do those things’ was late the plaintive cry
As they faced the rope or gun prepared by men to die.
What can we do, just you and I, to stop these awful things?
Can we stamp out Evil ways and deep-felt festerings?
Can we just refuse to bend to wills of nasty men
Who try to tell us what to do, and evil plans defend?
Or do we just submit the way that Man has always done,
To just accept the fact we’re just a tiny One -
Too small to make a difference, and try to show them all.
Certainly not worth the risk, why deal with it at all?
We have to try, we have to make this brotherhood of Man
A race of truly civilised beings if we can.
Time is fast unravelling – the clock is ticking down.
Stop waves of Evil choking us – if not we’ll surely drown.
Bio

I've been an ice cream man, salesman, engineer, inventor, lecturer and teacher. I've had managerial positions, nice offices and secretaries. These are the building blocks that shape us. I've managed to keep my sense of humour throughout, despite incompetent and inept managers.
The best jobs are those where you really get on with your colleagues, and your manager (or Principal) gives you the respect you deserve.
I'm now retired, have successfully completed a doctoral thesis in Science Education, and regularly write short stories and poems for the Gingin Buzz in WA. My novel is a 'work in progress'
Contact
For any media inquiries, please contact Alan D Gent:
Tel: +61428509899 Email: docalan19@gmail.com
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