lounge in his lab sipping canned lemonade.
I probe, “Scholars call you the father of
chemistry.” He puckers his lips. “I made
experimenting alchemy’s key. Loved
inventing processes still used today,”
he slurs in between slurps. “Like what?” I pry.
“Distillation,” he snaps. “Ugh. Booze,” I say.
“Crystallizing,” the Arab sneers. I sigh,
“Table salt. Promotes stroke.” I hear teeth grind.
“I synthesized nitric acid,” Jab growls.
“Acid rain,” I frown. His wild eyes grow blind.
“I improved on Aristotle!” he howls.
“I refined dyeing, and pigments in paint!”
“Lead poisoning,” I whisper. Jabir faints.
Roger Armbrust
July 18, 2007
