Mum. Can we go to the park, please. I have to see my friend.
Umm...can you give me a few minutes? Let me bring the washing in and then we can go. You get your brother ready, and get your ball, okay?
Several minutes later and they were walking across the grass, across the road, and then along the path between homes that lead to the park bordering the suburb from the forest. On a spring, Saturday morning beneath a blue sky and just a hint of a breeze, a few dozen people of all ages were scattered about its manicured lawns and garden beds, enjoying themselves with ball games, kids chasing each other, and adults resting on seats or picnic blankets. He kicked the ball and the two boys went racing after it, then another kick and another race, and before long they were half way across the open space and heading towards a small group of people sitting in a circle with an elderly man standing and talking.
The boys stopped and passed the ball to each other, sometimes catching, other times fumbling, over and over again as their mother took her time in the sunshine to catch up to them. As she neared, she caught the words on the breeze coming from the elderly gent:
...string of electrons vibrating, and setting the end one into a trajectory that has its magnetic influence coupled with a newly created proton. They aren’t exactly free as their coupling was already predetermined, even before the proton was generated. It is as if the electron existed only for that specific proton, and was pushed into its trajectory by its companions and their accumulated charge firing it out of its…
He looked like a professor of sorts, and the young men and women certainly looked like university students, and yet it was a Saturday and an outdoor class on the weekend did seem odd. She watched her eldest son pass the ball to his brother before turning towards the group and walking towards them, saying something that made the ‘professor’ stop his lesson and turn towards the youngster. The breeze changed direction and she couldn’t hear the conversation that arose, nor hear the question coming from one of the students who were all now paying their attention to her son.
She was curious at the exchange as she neared further, and saw the ‘professor’ open his mouth in astonishment, raise his hand to thoughtfully cup his chin, and nod a few times before saying unheard words. Her son pointed upwards, then left and right and made a little circle before lowering his hand and absently kicked at the grass. The ‘professor’ nodded as a few of the students appeared to laugh, and as she was now close enough to hear, all she heard was someone say ‘How old are you?’
Six...and a half.
Hey Prof. You think we got room for this one? I mean...what was that...is that even in the curriculum?
No, Cameron. That’s not at all in the curriculum. That’s not even proven yet. Sure, the likes of Feynman has postulations he has being working on for decades, but such as that needs several encompassing theories to support it, and those theories aren’t even close to having someone to spend the amount of time necessary to prove them...six, and a half, hey. Who told you about such a thing?
Is everything all right? I’m sorry if he is bothering you.
Not at all, ma’am. In fact, we were having a delightful lesson being taught to us. Tell me, are you a physicist at all? Is his father?
Hmm...well, young man. Who told you about such a thing?
You did. You don’t remember, Mr Ratcliff? You said it was important to remind you one day, and here I am.
The elderly gent stumbled backwards a step before catching his balance as three of his students jumped to their feet to assist him. He was okay though.
When did I tell you?
When I am older.