Free Ctrl-Z by Andrew Norriss Page B

and Alex had thought
     about it, but without coming up with
one
idea, let alone twenty‐seven. Not that it bothered him, really. At the moment, he was having too much fun.
    One day he painted the sitting‐room sofa blue (to see what it looked like); on another he experimented with putting half a
     dozen eggs in the microwave to see if they’d explode (they did); and on another he nailed a set of planks to the staircase
     so that he could use it as a ski run. In fact he did all the things that a boy his age might want to do if he knew they wouldn’t
     get into trouble for doing them.
    So, when he found a box of fireworks in the back of the cupboard in the dining room that his father used as an office, there
     was never any doubt about what Alex would do with them. He only
had to look at the box to see they were begging to be set off.
    It was a Saturday, and Alex had just set the time on his computer and collected the box from its hiding place when Callum
     appeared at the front door.
    ‘We’re going down to the park,’ he said, gesturing to the pavement where he had left Lilly in her wheelchair, holding Mojo
     the dog on a lead. ‘Lilly wants to feed the ducks and says can you come too.’
    ‘I’ve got a better idea,’ said Alex, and showed his friend the fireworks. ‘Dad’s gone to a conference and Mum’s not back for
     an hour, so we can let them off now. In the garden!’
    ‘If you let them off,’ said Callum, ‘won’t your dad notice they’ve gone?’
    ‘They won’t
be
gone, will they!’ Alex reminded him. ‘We fire them off, I press Ctrl‐Z and they’re back in the box in the cupboard!’
    ‘Yes…’ said Callum doubtfully. It was the same every time Alex suggested something like this. He would hesitate and wonder
     if it was safe. And fireworks definitely
weren’t
safe. Everyone knew that.
    ‘I’m not sure if Lilly –’
    ‘Lilly’ll be fine!’ Alex interrupted him confidently. ‘She’ll like the fireworks and afterwards
she won’t remember, will she? Neither of you will.’
    Callum wheeled Lilly round to the back of the house, Alex locked Mojo in the kitchen and the two boys picked up a couple of
     fireworks out of the box and took them down the garden. The results were, to be honest, a little disappointing. Fireworks
     look their best at night when the coloured flames shine out against the dark, but in the middle of a summer’s afternoon it
     was difficult to see anything at all. The fireworks made quite a bit of noise as well, and Alex knew it wouldn’t be long before
     someone like Mr Kowalski came round to complain.
    ‘You should try this one next,’ Lilly told them. She had taken the largest firework from the bottom of the box and passed
     it to Callum. It was called The Mortar and was about the size of a large tin can on a stick. The instructions said to place
     the stick firmly in the ground, light the fuse and stand well back, so Alex took it down to the bottom of the garden, pushed
     the stick firmly into the soil and then Callum lit the blue touchpaper and they both ran back to stand by Lilly on the patio.
    Nothing happened. They waited for nearly a minute, but still nothing happened.
    ‘It must have gone out,’ said Alex, and he was heading down the garden with the matches to light it again when Callum stopped
     him.

    ‘You’re not supposed to go back to a firework once you’ve lit it,’ he said. ‘You have to wait.’
    ‘How long for?’ asked Alex.
     ‘I think at least an hour,’ said Callum. ‘You don’t want to have it explode in your face, do you?’
    ‘I need a drink,’ said Lilly, and Alex opened the back door so that she could wheel herself into the kitchen.
    He had forgotten about Mojo. Locked inside the house, the dog knew that he had been missing out on all the excitement and
     now that he was out in the open, he was determined to make the most of it.
    Mojo’s favourite games usually involved either a ball or a stick, and racing down the