A Weekend's Fall of Thought

Leaves turned orange, but an apple still was there. Bill and Teddy claimed a park bench under the tree. Was a long walk.

The last summer, Teddy turned ten. His action and curiosity needs Bill's attention, and although thoughts are in the middle of a research paper, having fun with son is more important.

The gray laptop knapsack has to wait. “Teddy, climb over!”

“What do you want, Dad?”

“Want to show you something.”

Teddy puts with his white shoe onto the bench sit, Bill gives him his hand helping to keep the balance. Teddy stands up, while Bill is still sitting. Bill stands up, turns, and climbs onto the bench, stepping next to his son while still holding his hand. Bill’s red shoes are next to Teddy’s white ones.

“Teddy, now we’re going to slip carefully from this bench, okay?” He steps close to the edge of the bench. “No jumping. When I say ‘go’, then my shoes should start falling next to your shoes, okay?”

“Allright, it’s a bit tricky…” Teddy comes close to the edge of the bench. “Ah, that's easy. Let’s do it.”

They hold their hands, Bill says, “Go!” They slip from from the bench, flying two feet in the air. Red and white shoes fly next to each other, then simultaneously touching the ground. Perfect landing!

Teddy turns to his father and asks a question, “Dad, look. Heavy things fall faster, right?” He drops his arms. Yellow leaves slowly fall behind the bench.

“Hmmm,” Bill shows he’s thinking, while standing on the ground. He offers an explanation, “Teddy, imagine we slip from this bench down the ground again. My shoes fly next to your shoes, the same as we just did, right?”

Bill looks into his son’s eyes and gesticulates with his pointing finger, “This time I am not holding your hand, though.”

Teddy is curious, “Without your hand?” The boy climbs on the bench. “I fly!” He jumps from the bench and lands slowly. Touches the ground with both of his knees, hurts himself, tries hard to look allright, and then hides his suffering.

“You hit the ground first, dad!” Teddy drops his fingers offering to sit. Bill accepts the offer and sits on the bench. “I fly…” Teddy imitates a flying airplane, runs circles holding his hands to the sides, “you’re heavy, you fall fast,” he drops his hands again, while limping towards his father.

“Well, son. Look.” Bill pulls his son’s arm offering to sit next on the bench. “For two thousand years people were thinking that heavy things fall faster than light things.”

“Cool! How smart I am!”

“Listen. Let’s think that you and me are slipping from this bench again. Shoes-to-shoes. I hit the ground first. I’m a heavy guy, right?”

“Right! I’m flyyyying…” he makes a sound imitating a helicopter, waving his hand. Yellow leaves fall behind them.

“What do you think, son?”

“Heavy objects fall faster…” Teddy points finger towards his dad, yelling in the excitement. “You’re heavy, dad!”

“Okay. Hey, son. Calm down for a sec.” Bill shows his right palm. “Imagine you climb up onto my shoulders.” Bill raises both hands pointing to his shoulders.

“Let's do it!” Teddy stands up on the bench.

“We together are more heavy than just me alone, right?” asks Bill, helping Teddy to preserve his balance.

“Of course, dad! You weigh…” Teddy leans to his father’s shoulders.

“150 pounds.” Bill brings in precise data for calculations. He’s a scientist, after all. Precision is everything, right?

“I weigh...” Teddy forgot. He grows fast.

“This July you were 95 pounds.” They recently visited a doctor.

“So, the sum of 150 and 95 is...” Teddy stops leaning to his dad's shoulders getting distracted by the calculation. “...two hundred forty five pounds! That’s a lot!” He hugs his dad instead, and drops next him.

“So?..”

“We should fall faster than if you were falling alone, dad!”

“You’re right, son,” Bill confirms his son's thought. “Teddy, so..., remember when we held our hands? You fell slowly, because you’re lighter than me. You held my hand, and you fell slowly…” He waves his hand imitating a leaf. “You hold my hand here, I fall a bit slower than without your hand, right?” Shakes Teddy’s hand.

“Yeah! That’s right.”

“We fall slower together than me alone.”

“That’s right,” Teddy starts thinking, slightly confused this time. He gives a short pause, scratching his head. “We fall slower together, because I’m lighter than you, so I must slow you down.”

Bill winks and smiles. A black bird flies by.

“Hold on, dad!”. Teddy raises his hand.

“Yeah?”

“Why we fall slower together one time, and then another time we fall faster?” Teddy says with irritation.

“Hmmm... has to do with your holding my hand, sitting on my shoulders?” Bill's offering an explanation.

“Aerodynamics. Like an airplane!” Teddy folds his left hand to show an airplane shape and moves it through the air.

“I doubt we can fall faster and slower at the same time.” Bill gives a hint. “Nothing can fall both fast and slow at the same time. It’s a contradiction. A broken logic.” Bill says raising his finger.

“Stuff falls with the same speed, then?!” Teddy is shocked.

“Yep!”

Someone in the park pops an air balloon making a sudden noise. Teddy slips from the bench, looking what happened.

“Hmmm…” Teddy says while staring towards the possible direction of the explosion. “What’s logic, dad?” He asks distractedly.

“You heard about the apple falling on the head of a scientist?”

“Isaac Newton. Graaaavity!” Teddy turns back and pronounces with proudness raising his hands in the air, shaking “reality” around him. An apple falls from the apple tree behind them.

“That’s right. Newton was the first to describe the same thing you just did.” Bill grabs Teddy’s hand, and offers to sit on the bench. “You’re more clever than Newton, son! Newton had to study, invent, experiment. You just sat here with me. You just proved the law of gravity!”

“So cool! I’m so excited That is awesome!” The boy starts jumping while holding Bill's hand.

“Look, son. In science, we call it ‘The Law of Excluded Middle’. It helps us to prove everything we say. ‘Classical Logic’”.

Teddy climbs on the bench, sits, and asks, “What’s that?”

Bill doesn’t answer that question, and goes on, “Unfortunately, there’s an entire movement at schools across the world. They deny this simple logic. They call themselves ‘Intuitionists’: they follow their gut instead of pure logic. They write strange proofs they call ‘constructive’. They hate classical logic.”

“What did people think before Newton?” asks Teddy, he lost the track completely.

“It took two thousand years for people to stop following their gut! They all were pretty much sure that heavy stuff falls faster.”

“Because of aerodynamics! Can I have my drone, please?” He leans towards Bill's knapsack.

“Kind of.” Bill stares indifferently towards the horizon, ignoring Teddy’s attempt to get to his knapsack. An airplane flies by.