Jake and the Generator

Jake and the Generator

Jake liked nothing more in the world than to go fishing with his dad. His excitement began as they put the rods inside the pickup. On the journey to the lake where he would tell his dad about the fish he was going to catch. The sound of the outboard starting gave him a real buzz as did the trip to their favourite fishing spot.

He knew how to be quiet and patient even if they sat motionless for hours. He did not mind. He was fishing.

When his dad said that they would go on the next fine Saturday, Jake was thrilled. He checked the local weather station and began to think fine Saturdays no longer happened. Then he saw the band of high pressure heading their way. They would be slap bang in the middle of it this Saturday.

“Dad! Dad! It’s going to be great fishing weather this Saturday. I’ll get the rods ready.”

Jake’s father shook his head. “Not this Saturday. Uncle Pete’s coming over to watch the match. His generator is bust, and he can’t get it fixed till next week. I said he could join us, and we’ll all watch it together.”

“I hate football,” Jake yelled and he stormed out.

Off-grid living meant no mains electricity. Everyone depended on diesel generators.

Jake had an idea. If Uncle Pete’s generator can break down, so can ours, and if that happens before Saturday …

Jake was forbidden from going to the generator shed even when it wasn’t running. He didn’t know anything about how it worked or about electricity.

He stood outside the shed and pondered. There was a thing poking out of the side of the shed. He had watched it as the generator started. It had lots of holes in it which puffed out clouds of smoke until the engine had picked up speed.

Jake picked up a twig. Maybe, just maybe, he thought. and after taking a look round he sidled up to the thing and thrust the twig into one of the holes. But there were many holes so Jake gathered as many twigs as he could find and poked one in each of the holes. He planned to remove them quickly after the machine failed to start.

As dusk began to settle in, he waited. Would the lights come on? He listened for the familiar chug, chug as the engine picked up speed.

A sense of failure overcame him when the house lit up and life in the house assumed its evening rituals. He slipped outside and round to the engine shed. Most of the twigs were scattered close to the object.

He went back inside and sat abjectly in front of the TV as cartoon characters skipped before him.

It was then that another idea struck him. If the TV ain’t working, they can’t watch their crumby game!