Professor Cuthbert Q. Berkley's Fantastic Contraption
Act One, Chapter One

The countryside of New South Wales, Australia, is a beautiful place. The Blue Mountains, a historic area with heritage both man-made and environmental abound, is quiet and perfect for a getaway- or, in the case of Faith White and her mother, Catherine, a place for a new beginning. Not that Faith was ever happy about moving. A Melbournite by birth, leaving the Victorian capital was both annoying and an inconvenience. She was set to start high school soon and had hoped to stay in one place, but her Catherine, a painter and genealogist, had been employed at a library in Katoomba, and that meant that they had had to move.

“Do we really have to move?” Faith asked during the drive.

Catherine smirked. “Unless you’d rather go to a boarding school, no.”

“But the countryside is boring!” Faith complained for the umpteenth time that week. “It’s all old houses and old people!”

“It’s not ‘old houses and old people’, Faith,” Her mother replied. “It’s history, it’s our national heritage! Besides, you liked Katoomba the last time we were here.”

“I was nine then.”

“So?”

“So my point is, it would have been nice for a holiday, but for the rest of our lives? I’d rather stay in Melbourne.”

“Of course you would.”

“It was interesting there.”

“It was too noisy.”

Faith gave her mother a look. “Then why did you live there?”

“Because I had a job there, darling,” Sighed Catherine. “This one ever so happens to pay more than the last. Besides, maybe the mountain air will clear your mind of all those negative thoughts of yours.”

Faith huffed and crossed her arms. “I’m no pessimist, Mum.”

“You certainly sound like one.”

“I’m a realist. I’m not one for fantasy or placing hope in what is pointless.”

“That’s just a fancy word for a quitter.” Catherine reached over and ruffled her daughter’s hair. “Come on, give us some sunshine, Miss Stormy Skies!” But Faith just batted her mother’s hand away and grumbled, turning her attention out the window again.

“Faith, stop being such a grump.”

“Stop being so cheery, then,” Faith snapped back at her. “It gives me a headache.”

From there on out, the only sound in the car came from the radio and the occasional curse from Catherine to people on the road who apparently got their licenses from off the backs of cereal boxes, and Faith just kept her earphones in, cranking the volume up a bit every time a song she hated came on the radio (“You used to love this song!” “When I was five.”).

Eventually, the two arrived at the two-storey house that had a nice view of the Jamieson Valley from the top floor and fashioned from brick in a pseudo-federation architectural style. More than likely, it was before it was renovated and refurbished, which explained why Catherine was adamant that she was going to paint the walls a different colour than white that a real-estate agent probably gave some needlessly artistic name. Said agent was there not long after Catherine had pulled the land rover into the driveway and Catherine proceeded to criticise every last thing she could about the house that was whitewashed or altered and the agent quickly turned to Faith for backup, but she quickly snapped at the greasy-haired man that she thought that the house was probably perfectly fine before everything was painted with white paint that was more than likely marketed as some artistic shade of grey and that whatever quarrel her mother had about the place was no problem of hers. After the agent was well chased out of the house, Faith dragged herself upstairs and flopped down on her bed in the room she was to call her own from now on. The glare of the sunlight on the white walls made her eyes hurt and she pulled the hood of her light-fabric hoodie over her head to block out the light. Real estate agents pestering her when she was in this frame of mind was, by no means, helpful and she was in no mood to go looking through all her stuff just to find her door sign that she’d made last year during their ‘last week of school’ arts and crafts time. She’d just taken a bit of driftwood she’d been keeping under her desk on her last trip to the coast and painted a skull and crossbones in one corner and the words “KEEP OUT” in bright red letters across the wood on one side and “COME IN” on the other with a bird carrying an olive branch, so it was nothing special, but it got the work done. Faith was just hoping that her mother got the idea that she wasn’t interested in talking right now. She knew what school she would be going to, some high school full of morons where no one could speak the Queen’s English for the life of them and already she was sure no one was going to like her, but that didn’t bother her much. Faith never really had friends to start with. Everyone said she was too bossy and too noisy and too much of a smarty-pants, so no one really wanted to talk to her, but Faith kept a stiff upper lip and just dealt with it, even if she did feel the sting of loneliness when she saw all her classmates dancing together during the graduation party in the school gym. Even her teacher had gotten so sick of her constantly correcting his spelling and calling him out for being sexist sometimes, he didn’t even wish her the best for the future when Catherine was taking her home, and Faith had been standing there in a nice green dress that she’d picked out for the dinner just feeling stupid.
This was when Faith discovered the tears in her eyes and furiously rubbed them away. No two ways about it, she was tired as hell and really frustrated at everything. Her head was getting too noisy and she just wanted some quiet, just a little bit of shut-eye to get her mind back in order. Besides, it had been a long drive and there’s only so much one can take before cabin fever sets in and starts driving you insane. The birds twittered outside her window, and Faith found the birdsong to be far more soothing than silence. Her eyes soon fluttered closed and she dropped into the peaceful nothingness that sleep brought.

Catherine came in some time later and gently shook Faith back into consciousness.

“Darling? Faith, dear, wake up…”

“What is it?” Faith asked, sounding almost like she was drunk. “Where’s the fire?”

“Just thought I’d come wake you up,” Catherine replied, helping her daughter to sit up a bit. “The sun’s just gone down and I thought I’d come wake you.”

Faith sighed. “My head was so crowded,” She grumbled. “I really hope I don’t have to see that real-estate agent again.”

“Don’t you worry, we won’t.” Both mother and daughter both had their similar disgust for the grease-ball and decided to sit on that for a while before Catherine suggested that Faith go and have a bath, to which Faith obliged. As she laid in the tub that came up to her shoulders when she sat in it, she watched the steam coil and twist in the air and she could only pray that tomorrow would be kinder to her.

†††

Faith was dressed and ready early for school the next day, but dreaded it like the plague. She’d been told it was a good school, but she was sure it was going to be full of bogans with atrocious grammar and she had no desire to befriend any of them if they were just going to waste her time with pointless celebrity gossip or who won the rugby last night. She dreaded how things would be, come the State of Origin. Sport was pointless to her, and it often got her in trouble when she chose to sit on the sidelines and let her classmates run or play volleyball or soccer or whatever menial activity the teacher thought up. She had been suspended once for it, too, and once faced expulsion for not being involved in her classes because apparently “Just because you lost too many brain cells to even comprehend what a book is doesn’t mean I should, too” isn’t a good way to tell your teacher and your principal that you think P.E is stupid in front of your mother who is always cheerful until you open your cynical mouth and ruin everything (Catherine never said it out loud, but Faith knew it was what her mother thought of her).

One bowl of cereal, a glass of juice and a car ride to school later, Faith sat next to her mother through a long and boring assembly that was supposed to somehow make Year Seven look meaningful (when it was really much of the same as primary school until Year Eleven when you can finally drop sport and do something more fun, like have a free period where you can go to the library and have some peace and quiet). At the end of it, Catherine kissed her daughter’s cheek for good luck before holding her by her shoulders at just enough distance to look down into her brown eyes.

“Look, Faith,” She said carefully, licking her lips nervously. “Can you just…please…try to make this work? Be nice, make some friends?” Faith looked over at some of the students, a group of girls who were already chattering away like budgies in a cage and not even a day older than her who were already talking about pointless things like make-up and boys and gossiping. She quirked an eyebrow at them before looking back at Catherine again. “Yes, I know, they’re probably not your type, but please, darling, you need to make this work. No mouthing off to teachers? If you don’t mouth off to a teacher or get in trouble for calling someone names, then I promise I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

Faith gave no answer as her mother hugged her goodbye and she was chaperoned by teachers among a throng of students who tried to say hi to her and ask her questions. One girl, a black-haired Lebanese girl even came away from some of her friends and asked her if she wanted to hang out with them, but Faith bluntly said no. A boy with bad acne came away from his friends to ask her if she’d come and hang out with them and play some footy, but she told him to beat it. There didn’t seem to be a single intellectual among this group. Honestly, people were such idiots. The sooner she could just sit and read alone in the library, the better.

Science, History, English- they instantly became some of Faith’s favourites despite the number of morons. Art, however, she hated. There was one quiet girl who liked Japanese cartoons who thought she was deep because she wasn’t like the other girls and didn’t listen to One Direction or watch Neighbours and Faith was unfortunately landed with sitting next to her while their art teacher was telling them about the joys of art and something about frames. Faith just pretended that no one in the class existed and ignored everything that was being said, instead just taking out a book she was reading and pretended everyone else didn’t exist for the rest of the class. At lunchtime, however, she did find someone in the library she could at least respect. She’d picked out a few books to read over her Caesar salad and was looking for a place to sit when she spotted a table near the window where an Islamic girl, who looked about a year older than her and very neat with her pristine white hijab and perfectly-manicured nails, sat with her nose in an Edgar Allen Poe book. She looked happy where she was, and being a fellow fan of Poe, Faith chose not to be rude. She cleared her throat a little to get her attention, and the Islamic girl looked up at her. She was very pretty, and her smile was prettier.

“First day?” She asked.

Faith nodded. “Yeah,” She replied. “It’s a bit too noisy out there for me. Can I sit here?”

The girl cleared away a few of her things so Faith could sit down with her food in the chair opposite. “What’s your name?” She asked again.

“Faith White,” Faith replied, setting down her bag in the chair next to her and setting down her book.

“Faith? That’s a pretty name.” She held out her hand and Faith shook it. “Anum Hatem. Nice to meet you.”

The two got to talking quietly about their choice in reading material. As it turned out, Anum was actually a year her senior, but they were in the same year group and they were both having a pretty boring first day, too. Anum lived with her grandmother and her two older sisters not far from Faith, as it turned out, and had moved there from the inner western suburbs of Sydney. She seemed hesitant to talk about her parents, though, so Faith didn’t press on that. As it also turned out, the two both liked Florence and the Machine and talked about their favourite songs before they were promptly shushed sharply by the crow-like librarian. Still, Faith felt happier. She’d actually made a friend.

†††

After school, Anum got picked up by one of her older sisters and said her goodbyes to Faith, who walked to the train station from the school. On her way there, she stopped when she spied a huge gate, held shut by a rusty chain and a newer-looking lock, and through the bars and the thick foliage of the trees she could see a grand, old house that looked like it had been built in the late eighteen-hundreds by the look of the architecture. It looked like a small mansion, and seemed to have two towers sticking up out of it with the larger one having a dome-shaped roof. A chimney stuck out from the roof on another side, though there was no smoke coming from it, and the sunlight glinted off of the stained glass in the windows and the ornate lead framework that held it all in place. All the lights were off and she couldn’t see anyone in the house, and it looked like no one had tended to the garden for a very long time. Fey found herself a little curious; if the garden looked unattended to, and the gate was locked shut, then why didn’t the house look abandoned? There was no way anyone really had the money to keep a house like that, save the billionaires who owned the big businesses back in the city (and even then, they’d sooner have places like these torn down to make way for big box-like houses that only served to show all the little peasants just how rich they were). Faith almost felt bad for the house, and as she walked away, she could only hope that it was being cared for by someone and that it wouldn’t be ruined by vandals throwing rocks or jumping the gate just to tag the building.

Faith stopped by the corner shop and bought some more milk and a chocolate bar which she munched on during her walk home. Today wasn’t that bad, she mused thoughtfully. Anum’s pretty nice, and she’s not a complete moron, which is a bonus. A smile crossed her lips for a bit. Anum was in the same boat as her, after all- forced to leave her hometown to go to school somewhere else just because her family felt like a change of scenery (though given the media representation of the Islamic community, Faith wouldn’t have been surprised if it was for reasons other than that, but it’s never a good thing to be making assumptions about people) and was unfortunately surrounded by stupid people. Knowing her friend was only about a few houses from her also made it better, too. Maybe she’d actually get to do all those things she’d wanted to do if she ever had a friend- sleepovers, shopping trips, exchanging friendship bracelets- all those things she saw the other girls talking about and doing at her old primary school back in Melbourne. It actually gave her some hope for her future life in this place and made her feel a little better about the move. However, Faith decided not to tell her mother yet. She never liked to admit she was wrong and she wasn’t about to stop now.

…That is, until she walked in the door and saw her mother chatting with an elderly woman wearing a hijab who she recognised from a photo her new friend had shown her as Anum’s grandmother, Fatima. Anum, still dressed in her uniform and pristine white hijab, sat with her grandmother and Catherine at the kitchen table, drinking green tea. Anum looked happy to see Faith and waved to her. Catherine looked up from her tea and quirked a knowing eyebrow at Faith.

“You took your time,” She remarked.

Faith held up the plastic bag she’d been carrying. “I stopped to pick up some milk because I knew you’d forget,” She replied a bit haughtily as she set her backpack down and walked over to sit between Anum and her mother.

“I could’ve asked my sister to give you a lift if you wanted it,” Anum told her.

Faith smiled- actually smiled- and just shrugged. “You just met me today. I didn’t want to be a bother.”

Anum and Fatima stayed for a long time until they were picked up by Anum’s eldest sister and taken home. As soon as they were out the door, Catherine smirked down at her daughter.

“Anum was telling me how nice you were today.”

Faith fidgeted. “Yeah, so?” She replied, a bit defensively. “I can make friends if I want to.”

Catherine crossed her arms and leaned back a bit. “Looks like not everyone here’s a complete idiot, eh?”

“They are,” Faith snipped. “Everyone else was being completely stupid. Anum’s different. She’s smart and she’s nice and she said it wasn’t stupid that I read classic literature.”

“Woah there, I didn’t say I had anything against her,” Her mother chuckled. “Anum’s lovely and Fatima’s a wonderful woman and I’m glad you two are starting to be friends. What do you take me for?”

“I never take you for anything,” Faith sighed.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Are you going to tell me I was right?”

Faith scowled. “Not even after I’m worm-food.”

Catherine just ruffled her daughter’s hair. “Never change, Faith,” She said through a mixture of a chuckle and a sigh as she walked back to the kitchen. “Never ever change.” Whatever that meant, Faith took it as a ‘yeah whatever’ and just went up to her room. Her new history teacher had decided to be downright cruel and gave them homework on their first day and she thought it best to get it out of the way before it became a bother.