Thanks for your thoughtful observations. I’ve been working on another version, in part spurred by a young reviewer who didn’t understand the connection at all. I’m taking it in another direction—Newton intervenes Madonna-like to help the students with their tests, and the tear is one of those enigmatic Mother Mary tears. Thanks again, Dennis
Short Story / Miracle at Science Plaza
Campus visitors in the early spring marvel at the flower bouquets arranged in the chain link fence surrounding the statue of Isaac Newton in Science Plaza. Some are surprised by the fence itself. What college cages the father of physics and celestial mechanics like a cockatiel? The fence has been in place for five years, and it seems more ordinary with each year. Yet, the questions continue and the flowers reappear the week of the Spring Equinox.
“Every body perseveres in its state of rest, or of uniform motion in a right line, unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed theron!” Edgar Willingsforth, sophomore physics major, was the first to shout this out on the day of the miracle.
That morning Edgar was among a dozen students who arrived early for the 10:00 AM Physics class. Anxious because it was March 21, the day of the midterm exam, the students fidgeted in the plaza in front of Michelson Hall, the physical sciences building. Some worried they’d jinx their exam performance if they went in too early; some worried they’d be judged nerdier than rearview mirrors mounted on horn-rimmed glasses. Whatever their reasons the students lounged on the benches ringing the flower bed where the Newton statue is erected. This was before the fence—in fact what happened on this day made the fence necessary.
Spring was well underway and the sun felt warm again. An overnight rain left fervent, earthy smells in the air. Several of the students were without jackets, spring fever trumping prudence.
“Did you study?” Beth Beemer asked Adam Darling. They sat on one of the concrete benches placed around the flower bed in the center of Science Plaza, the one on the eastern side, the one the statue faces. Beth held her notebooks on her lap, her knees together under a course wool skirt, her feet, also together, resolutely flat on the sidewalk.
Adam relaxed with his feet on the bench between them, his legs held against his chest, his chin resting on his knees. “Of course.”
“Me too; I only hope there isn’t much on entropy. I never get the formula to come out.”
“Everyone has trouble with that,” Adam acknowledged. He looked to his right and up at the statue as he tried to remember the formula. “I always have trouble with the temp—.” He stopped mid-word and focused intently on the statue’s face.
The Newton statue at Voltaire College is a full-sized granite rendering of the Seventieth-century physicist standing on a tall pedestal with one foot forward. He wears a classical (or academic) robe over knee breeches, leggings, and shoes with large buckles. He holds an apple in both hands, as if passing it from one to the other. His hair is cut short, though most portraits show him in long curls. Short was the style in 1920 when the statue was erected. His prominent brow keeps his eyes in shadow except when the sun is in the east. The statue is the work of an obscure sculptor of the early Twentieth Century and a donation from Arnold and Cynthia Greenwald—graduates of Voltaire who made a fortune in oil stocks. The foundation bears a bronze plaque with the inscription: SIR ISAAC NEWTON 1642-1727.
“A tear,” Adam said in an urgent whisper. “There’s a tear in his eye.”
Beth followed his gaze to the statue’s face and indeed, a rivulet of clear fluid glistened under the right eye, shimmering in the sunlight. “It’s from the rain last night,” she concluded.
“That’s what I thought at first, but the rest of the statue is dry.”
Beth frowned. “I’m going to stop at the union for coffee after the test,” she said. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”
“Uh huh.” Adam continued to focus his attention on the statue’s face.
“You know, to unwind.” She smiled brightly and pulled her notebooks from her lap to her chest where she clutched them tightly.
“Couldn’t be rain unless there’s a pool we can’t see on top of his head.” Adam looked ready to climb up to investigate but the other students began to move toward the door, deciding as one that the appropriate time had come.
- * * * *
At noon students from the Physics class filed out. An air of satisfied relief hung over them like victorious football players trudging to the locker room. Adam and Edgar were among the last. Adam crossed the courtyard with long strides; Edgar followed a step behind. “Plain as the nose on his face,” Adam was saying. The boys walked quickly to the east bench and looked up into the statue’s face.
“His eyes are in a shadow,” Edgar observed, shielding his own eyes from the direct sun. “You can’t see anything.”
“You could this morning.” Adam pushed through the low bushes intended to keep students out of the flower bed and stood at the base of the pedestal. He stretched his lanky frame to get as high as possible. Sunlight washed over his boyish face, bringing out the freckles. “It’s still there!” he shouted, louder than he intended. “You can see it from here.”
Edgar looked over his shoulder at the front of Michelson Hall before following Adam onto the flower bed. He looked up into the sun expecting to confirm his suspicion Adam was seeing things. “Maybe it’s something glossy on the cheek that picks up the sun’s rays,” he suggested.
“You see it, don’t you?”
“I see it,” Edgar admitted.
“Here, hold my notebook.” Adam pushed himself up to stand on the edge of the pedestal where he could look directly into Newton’s face. He stood there in silence, his face inches away from the statue’s.
“What do you see?” Edgar asked, looking anxiously toward Michelson Hall.
“It’s a tear.” Adam kept his eyes on the statue’s face. He reached up gingerly to touch the cheek with his index finger.
“Somebody’s prank,” Edgar concluded. “It’s epoxy I’ll bet.”
“It’s water.” Adam turned awkwardly on the edge of the pedestal and held out his finger.
“Leftover rain. You’d better come down before somebody sees you.”
Adam put his hands on the statue’s shoulders and pulled himself up to look at the top of the head.
“Come down!” Edgar repeated more urgently.
Adam jumped down and held his finger in Edgar’s face. “There’s nothing on top of his head but granite hair,” he said. “Look, it’s water.”
Edgar shook his head silently. Adam’s finger was clearly wet. “The air is still pretty damp, from the rain. Maybe moisture condenses on the granite. Who knows?”
“Do you see any other water on the statue?”
“No.”
“Then it isn’t condensation, is it?”
Edgar looked confused. “What are we supposed to do?”
Adam considered this carefully. “Take a picture,” he said finally.
“What for?”
“I don’t know, but it’s a start. You have a camera, don’t you?”
“I left it at home last Christmas. You don’t have one?”
“No.”
“Let’s get off the flower bed while we figure it out.” Edgar pushed Adam’s notebook into his hands and made his way back through the bushes.
“Beth Beemer has a camera,” Adam remembered as he followed. “She does her sorority’s newsletter. She made a big deal about finding one that wouldn’t make their pupils red.”
Minutes later Adam and Edgar hurried into the café in the Student Union and found Beth sitting with two girlfriends. “Adam!” she called across the room as he came in. “Over here.” She slid over in the booth.
“We can’t stay.” He stood at the end of the table. “I need to borrow your camera.”
“My camera?”
“It’s an emergency.”
Beth smiled at her girlfriends. “A camera emergency?”
“The statue of Newton. The tear is still there. I need to get a picture.”
As Adam explained their mission, Edgar watched the girls to detect any eyebrow raising or eye rolling. He saw some of both.
“I don’t know,” Beth answered.
“Please?”
She smiled indulgently. “Well, I suppose. What’s the harm so long as you’re careful? I’ll need it right back, though. I’m covering a chapter dinner tonight.”
Adam stepped back to make room for Beth to slide out of the booth.
“You mean right now?” Beth shook her head in disbelief.
“I want to get a picture before something happens to it.”
“Nothing is going to happen. You sit down while I finish my coffee. You too, Edgar. Then we’ll walk over to the house together and you’ll get your camera.” She pursed her lips and settled deeper into her seat. Clearly she wasn’t going anywhere right away. - * * * *
Half an hour later Adam, Beth, and Edgar hurried toward Science Plaza. Beth had a camera case slung over her shoulder. “What will you do with the picture?” she asked breathlessly.
Adam glanced at Edgar. “I have no idea. I don’t know what else to do. At least with a picture we’ll have something to prove we’re not crazy.”
They walked in silence for a block or two. “What you should do,” Beth said finally, “is tell Dr. Heidegger.”
“The physics teacher? Why?”
“First of all, he’s been on this campus forever. If anything like this ever happened before he’d know about it.”
Adam nodded.
“Second, he’s a physics professor. He can explain anything. He has office hours all afternoon. I’m sure we can catch him.”
There seemed to be more students in plaza than usual as the three crossed and slipped into Michelson Hall. Dr. Heidegger’s office was on the second floor. The door was open and he sat hunched over his desk, looking at test papers.
“Dr. Heidegger?” Adam began.
Heidegger looked up.
“I . . . We have a question.”
Heidegger scowled, pushing his grey, bushy eyebrows together like mating caterpillars. “Darling, isn’t it?”
“That’s right, Adam Darling.”
“And Beth Beemer,” Beth said, moving up next to Adam.
“And Edgar Willingsforth,” Adam added after a pause. Edgar smiled over Adam’s shoulder.
“I’m surprised any of you has a question,” Heidegger said. “Clearly nobody had any questions about the exam this morning.” The three students waited anxiously for him to continue. “I’ve been teaching intro physics for twenty-five years and I’ve never seen anything like it.” He paused again. “Either my test leaked out somehow or this is the hardest working intro class ever.”
“We did okay?” Beth asked.
“The lowest grade is ninety-four percent. There are numerous tests with no mistakes at all.”
Edgar sighed deeply.
“Never seen anything like it. Unless the test somehow got into the student’s hands early.” He looked at each face in turn.
“Or it’s because you teach so well everybody learned what they were supposed to learn,” Beth suggested.
Heidegger smiled. “It’s never happened before. It’s a marvel.”
“A miracle,” Edgar suggested.
“The reason we’re here,” Adam said, “we’re trying to figure something out and Beth thought you could help.”
Heidegger looked interested.
“The statue of Newton in the plaza out front.”
“The sage of Woolsthorpe? The Dean or classical physics? The Prince of applied mathematics? What about him?”
“There’s a tiny rivulet of water one his face.”
A long silence followed while Heidegger considered the importance of this. “No doubt from last night’s rain.”
“But the rest of the statue is dry.”
Another pause. “Must be condensation. The statue is granite and so quite dense and slow to heat up. The result is the air around it is warmer and when that warm air comes into contact with the cold granite its temperature falls below its dew point and moisture condenses out.”
“Only on its face?”
“Perhaps this condensation occurs in other places but the water dissipates somehow. In any case, I’m sure you’ll see the surface dry up -- all of the surface -- when the statue’s temperature warms to something closer to the air around it. There’s no doubt about that.”
“No doubt,” Edgar repeated. - * * * *
A few minutes later, Adam, Beth, and Edgar emerged from Michelson hall to find a hundred students crowding around the statue. The flower bed was completely trampled. A disorganized line had formed and one-by-one students pushed themselves up onto the pedestal to look closely into Newton’s face. “What’s going on?” Adam asked a boy as he pushed toward the statue.
“There’s a tear on Newton’s face,” the boy responded.
Adam pushed forward to within a few yards of the statue. Beth followed in his wake and when they were held back by the compressed bodies held her camera over her head and zoomed the lens to maximum magnification. “I can see it clearly,” she said into Adam’s ear.
“Every body perseveres in its state of rest!” Edgar shouted. He had taken a position standing on the bench the statue faced.
“Or of uniform motion in a right line,” several in the crowd responded antiphonally.
“Unless it is compelled to change that state!” Edgar continued, his voice breathy but loud.
“By forces impressed theron!” a larger number responded.
“Every body perseveres in its state of rest!” Edgar shouted again, raising his arms conductor-like. - * * * *
Sporadic rain showers kept the students indoors and the statue wet for the next two weeks. The chain link fence enclosing the statue went up one week later. A crew from Buildings and Grounds re-tilled and replanted the flower bed as soon as the soil was dry. They installed KEEP OUT signs between the low bushes around the periphery. Except for hushed rumors passed student-to-student and eventually class-to-class, the statue receded into quiet obscurity, nothing special except for the odd fence, and the annual sprouting of flower bouquets.
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bravis reviewed Version 2 -
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I thought this was very well written and had a subtle comedic tone to it that made it easy to read. The dialogue flowed well and wasn’t overloaded with “he said” “she said”s that plague most dialogue on Urbis. The story is interesting and well paced with a bit of mystery to keep readers going onto the next chapter. The only points I thought could use more work were…
1. The need for a little more ‘bread and butter writing’ to break up the dialogue and different scenes. It seemed a little bit amateur to leap straight from dialogue between the students where they end by saying “let’s go see Dr Heidegger” [‘Heidegger heidegger was a boozey beggar…’? Intentional use of an old physicist’s name?], to them being in his office and having the same conversation. It works from a comedic point of view (I like the way the conversation is almost identical to the earlier one between then students), but I would like more exposition on the look of the corridor and their thoughts as they knock on the door, and then the look of his office and of the man himself. This would give the story a little more depth.
2. The need for more storylines. The premise of a crying statue is a good starting point (particularly when on a statue of a physicist rather than a religious figure – could lead to some amusing discussion of religious miracles and comment on the whole science V religion debate), but there needs to be some sub-plots going on to add richness to the story and flesh out the characters a little more.
3. The need for more differences between the characters. They all seem a little samey and I can’t really picture any of them. In your edit, add more details about their appearance and backstory and relationship to one another.
Overall I thought this was a very good start and I enjoyed reading it. Although I see from your criteria that this is a short story? Is this it then? Or is there more to come? If this is where is ends, it needs more of an dramatic ending too.
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Curtastrophe reviewed Version 1 -
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I really like the way you begin this. It sets up nicely and the descriptions are beautiful.
As I understood the story, the Newton shadow sheds a tear of joy because of the high test grades that all the students received on their exams – A kind “magical realism” tale. Perhaps the tear formed as a result of some kind of metaphysical entropy caused by the expended energy the students put into studying for the exam.
As is the case with most superstitions, they begin at least partly in fact and as time goes by, events that have transpired take on a life of their own. In the case of this story, it finally results in the students leaving bouquets of flowers at the fence in hopes that it will help them on their midterms. I like the contrast of science intermingling with superstition.
My interpretation of the story could be completely the opposite of the way you intended it to be, but I suspect that different people will have different ideas about the “meaning” of this piece. That’s a good thing. Overall it was an enjoyable story – One that a person might find in Reader’s Digest or a mainstream lit. magazine. Thanks for sharing it.
-Curt
Elf reviewed Version 1 -
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Alright…I don’t get it at all. It might be because I know almost nothing about Physics, and there for don’t get the significant of the phrase Edgar shouts, but the whole reason to this peace is lost on me.
Alright…there was a tear on the statues face, and then they find out everyone did so good on the test…is that the connection? Other then that I see no reason for the tear at all. Why did the ‘Miracle’ happen? For at least the avridge person there is no scene to this.
To me it just read like a narrative of a bunch of kids seeing something that was weird ad ruining a flower bed for it. I would REALLY like to be able to understand the message or purpose of this peace, but it is aether beyond me, or nonexistent.
I wanted to talk about the dialog as well. To me the students read like they where allot younger then what they are suppose to be. If someone came up to be (like the guys did to beth) I think I would be allot more skeptical. I think if a college kid where presented with a problem like this, there might be a little more reasoning going on between them. I am not entirely sure how i would fix it my self…
Last of all, I think your story might be more realistic and believable if there are of skepticisms brought out. I can see the people of today just walking by and dismissing something like this as stupid. (a tear on a stature that is, not your writing) It might also make the message you want to bring out more profound if its the lone stature, trying to show is pain or release or what ever. And if you want that message Edgar yells out, a lone student, or just the three realizing the significance of it all.
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