The Number That Wouldn’t Behave

Rob stood in the middle of the park, holding his red frisbee in his right hand.

It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was shining, the grass was still, and the leaves on the nearby trees barely moved.

Perfect throwing weather.

Rob stepped forward and released the frisbee.

It sailed straight ahead, spinning smoothly through the air.

Then it drifted left.

Not a little.

A lot.

The disc landed several metres from where Rob had expected.

Rob stared at it.

“Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

He retrieved the frisbee and tried again.

This time he adjusted his angle slightly.

The disc flew straight for a few moments before drifting left again.

Rob put his hands on his hips.

“Seriously?”

He looked toward the trees.

Nothing moved.

He looked at the grass.

Still.

“Wind?”

A single leaf lifted from the ground and rolled past his shoes.

Rob smiled.

“Ah. There you are.”

He picked up the leaf and watched it settle in his hand.

He couldn’t see the Wind.

But he could certainly see what it had done to his frisbee.

“So that’s what you’re doing.”

The leaf lifted from his hand.

Another followed.

Then several more.

Rob stepped back as they began circling around him.

“Wait. I wasn’t asking for an adventure. I was asking for a straight throw.”

The Wind rose.

Rob grabbed his frisbee.

“Oh, we’re definitely doing this.”

The park disappeared.

When the Wind settled, Rob found himself standing in a narrow courtyard surrounded by old stone buildings.

Horses’ hooves clicked somewhere beyond the walls. Voices drifted from a nearby street.

Then something clattered inside the building beside him.

Its door was slightly open.

Rob peered inside.

The room was crowded with wooden tables, glass bottles, wires, mineral samples and unfamiliar instruments. Notebooks were stacked almost everywhere.

At the centre of it all stood a woman studying a small instrument.

She adjusted something.

Waited.

Then wrote a number in her notebook.

She looked at the instrument again.

Rob watched her repeat the measurement.

“Having trouble?” he asked.

The woman looked up.

“Perhaps.”

Rob stepped inside.

“What are you trying to do?”

“Understand something that does not make sense.”

Rob smiled.

“That happens to me a lot.”

The woman glanced at the red frisbee tucked beneath his arm.

“I can imagine.”

She extended her hand.

“Marie Curie.”

“Rob.”

Marie turned her notebook toward him. Several numbers had been circled.

Rob leaned closer.

“What’s wrong with them?”

“I’m not sure anything is wrong with them.”

“That sounds like a strange problem.”

Marie smiled.

“It is.”

She pointed toward a dark mineral sitting on the table.

“This is part of it.”

Rob looked at the mineral.

“A rock?”

“A rather interesting one.”

He looked from the rock to the complicated equipment surrounding it.

“All of this because of that?”

Marie nodded.

Rob looked at the mineral again.

“Okay. Now I’m curious.”

Marie explained that a scientist named Henri Becquerel had discovered that uranium gave off invisible rays.

“You can’t see them?” Rob asked.

“No.”

“Then how do you know they’re there?”

Marie gestured toward the instrument.

“We can measure their effects.”

She showed him a sample containing uranium and the reading it produced.

Then she pointed to the dark mineral.

“This is pitchblende. It contains uranium too.”

Marie showed him another number.

Rob compared the two.

The pitchblende reading was much higher.

“Whoa.”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you measured it wrong.”

“That was worth considering.”

Marie turned the page.

There were more measurements.

And more after that.

Rob scanned the numbers.

“You tried again?”

“Many times.”

“And it kept happening?”

“Yes.”

He looked at the instrument.

“Maybe this is broken.”

Marie smiled.

“That would be simpler.”

She measured a familiar sample.

The instrument gave the result she expected.

Then she tested the pitchblende again.

The number was still unusually high.

Rob stared at it.

“So the machine seems fine.”

“Yes.”

“And you keep getting the same strange result.”

“Yes.”

He looked at the pitchblende.

It didn’t glow.

It didn’t move.

It didn’t look unusual at all.

“The rock looks completely normal.”

Marie nodded.

“But the numbers say something interesting is happening.”

Rob looked back at the mineral.

Then he thought about his frisbee.

“I think I know what you mean.”

Rob picked up his frisbee.

“Can I show you something?”

Marie followed him into the courtyard.

Rob found a clear stretch of space away from the buildings.

He held the frisbee in his right hand.

“Watch.”

He gave it a smooth throw across the courtyard.

The disc flew cleanly and settled onto the stones.

Marie watched.

“Interesting.”

“That was the normal part.”

Rob retrieved it.

He waited.

A gentle breeze slipped between the buildings.

“Now watch.”

He threw again.

This time the frisbee drifted sideways.

Marie followed its path.

“What changed?”

“The Wind pushed it.”

“Did you see the Wind?”

“No.”

Marie waited.

Rob looked around.

A piece of fabric hanging from a nearby window fluttered.

Smoke rising from a chimney leaned sideways.

A few leaves rolled across the stones.

Rob pointed.

“I can see what it’s doing.”

Marie nodded.

“Those are clues.”

Rob looked at the frisbee.

“So I don’t have to see the Wind itself.”

“No.”

“I can look at what it changes.”

“Yes.”

Rob thought about the strange readings in Marie’s notebook.

“The Wind and those rays aren’t the same thing.”

“Not at all.”

“But both can leave something behind that tells us they’re there.”

Marie smiled.

Rob looked back toward the laboratory.

“And your number is one of those clues.”

“It might be.”

They returned inside.

The pitchblende sat exactly where they had left it.

It still looked ordinary.

But Rob didn’t see it quite the same way anymore.

Marie opened her notebook again.

“The unusual reading raises a question.”

Rob leaned closer.

“What question?”

Marie pointed to the pitchblende.

“What if the uranium is not the only substance producing these rays?”

Rob looked at the mineral.

“You think there’s something else in there?”

“Perhaps.”

“Something people haven’t found yet?”

“That is possible.”

Rob stared at the rock.

“Inside that?”

Marie smiled.

“It does not look particularly remarkable, does it?”

“Not even a little.”

Rob looked around the laboratory.

“So how do you find something when you don’t even know exactly what you’re looking for?”

“Carefully.”

Marie explained that pitchblende contained many substances mixed together. She and Pierre Curie were working to separate those materials and study them.

Rob looked at the shelves of bottles and samples.

“That sounds like a lot of work.”

“It is.”

“How long have you been doing it?”

“Months.”

Rob’s eyes widened.

“Months?”

Marie nodded.

“And you still don’t know what’s there?”

“Not yet.”

Rob thought about all the throws he’d made while learning difficult frisbee tricks.

Some had worked.

Many had not.

But every once in a while, one attempt showed him something he hadn’t noticed before.

“So what do you do when the answer takes that long?”

Marie looked at the notebook.

“You keep paying attention.”

Rob looked at the strange number again.

“Even when it doesn’t tell you what you expected?”

“Especially then.”

Rob smiled.

“That number is really bothering you, isn’t it?”

Marie smiled back.

“Very much.”

The afternoon light was fading when a breeze slipped through the open doorway.

A loose page lifted from the table.

Rob caught it before it blew away.

“Already?”

Marie looked toward the courtyard.

“Are you leaving?”

“I think so.”

Rob returned the page and picked up his frisbee.

Before stepping outside, he looked once more at the pitchblende.

“What happens if you’re right?”

Marie rested her hand on the notebook.

“Then we may discover something no one has identified before.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Then we will know something we didn’t know before.”

Rob thought about that.

Either way, there was something to discover.

Marie looked toward the mineral.

“Imagine what we might miss if we only paid attention to things that were easy to see.”

The Wind began circling around Rob’s shoes.

He stepped into the courtyard.

“Good luck with your mysterious rock.”

“Thank you, Rob.”

He started to turn away, then stopped.

“Marie?”

“Yes?”

“I hope you find something amazing.”

She looked at the notebook in her hands.

“So do I.”

The Wind rose around Rob.

The courtyard disappeared.

Rob was back in the park.

The grass was green.

The trees were still.

Everything looked almost exactly as it had before.

He stood quietly for a moment.

Marie had noticed one strange number.

She could have assumed it was a mistake.

Instead, she had looked again.

Rob picked up his frisbee.

He stepped forward and threw.

The disc sailed across the park before beginning to drift left.

This time, Rob watched carefully.

A few leaves moved near the far end of the field.

The grass bent slightly.

Branches shifted overhead.

The Wind had been there all along.

Rob just hadn’t noticed all the clues.

He retrieved the frisbee and turned it slowly in his hands.

He thought about Marie’s laboratory.

About the ordinary-looking rock.

About something invisible leaving evidence behind.

There were things in the world he couldn’t see.

Things he didn’t understand.

And perhaps things nobody had discovered yet.

Rob looked across the park.

“I wonder what else I’ve been missing.”

The Wind stirred the grass at his feet.

Rob smiled.

He stepped forward and threw again.

What might we discover when we keep looking beyond what we can see?