"She reads a lot, and she's very smart," Helga continued. "Maybe even smarter than you, Bernie. That's why I thought you two should meet."
"Really?" he said, his interest in me growing even more.
"This was her idea. I'm sorry we bothered you." I started to turn away.
"Hey. That's okay," he called. "Come on in."
"Bernie's inviting us in," Helga said, raising her eyebrows. "You going to show us your laboratory, Bernie?"
"I don't have a laboratory," he snapped at her. She laughed. He turned to me. "Helga and her friends are always making stuff up about me."
"No, we don't, Bernie," she said. "Anyway, if we do, you should be honored we talk about you."
"Some honor," Bernie said. He stepped back, and Helga gestured emphatically for me to follow her into the house. I did.
Right away, I saw that Bernie's parents had a lot of money. There were paintings all over the walls, and the rooms were very big and full of expensivelooking furnishings. In the hallway to his room was a glass case filled with figurines. The floors were all covered with carpet so soft I felt as if I were walking on marshmallows.
Bernie's room was twice, maybe three times as big as mine. He had a large desk, a computer, and all sorts of hardware. I recognized a scanner and two printers. He even had his own fax machine. One wall was covered with charts that included the anatomy of the human body, a breakdown of the planets and some galaxies, an evolution time line, and a historical summary of American presidents and vice presidents with a listing of major events during their terms.
On the right were shelves that held a
microscope, slides, scales, and even a Bunsen burner. I saw chemistry sets and shelves and shelves of reference books. What didn't he have? I wondered.
"You see?" Helga said. "He has a laboratory in his room."
"It's not a laboratory. I have a few things to develop my interests," he said defensively. "I want to get into genetic research someday."
"I don't even know what that means:' Helga said.
He frowned and shook his head. "You know what this is?" he asked me, pointing to what looked like a Tinker Toy.
"Yes," I said. "It's a model of DNA."
"Right!" he said, his face becoming more animated than it had been since we met.
"What's DNA?" Helga asked.
"It has to do with genetics," Bernie said quickly. "You want to look at this? I put this together myself," he told me, and I drew closer.
"Don't you have a CD player or something in here?" Helga asked.
"No," he said quickly.
"Well, how do you listen to music?" she demanded. "I listen on my computer when I want to listen to music:' he said, and turned his back on her.
"This is like being back in school," she complained. "Not one movie poster, not one rock star poster, just all this . . . this educational stuff."
"It's very good:' I said, nodding at his model. He beamed with pride.
"Come on, Crystal," Helga said. "I'll show you the rest of the neighborhood. Maybe Fern Peabody is home. She's going steady with Gary Lakewood, and she always has good stories to tell."
"I've got some interesting slides:' Bernie said, ignoring her. "I just got them yesterday. They're from human embryos."
"Really?" I said.
"Ugh," Helga said. "Do they smell?"
"Of course not," Bernie snapped. "You should pay more attention in science class."