Jacquelyn Mitchard - A Theory of Relativity

Theory[ixii] 6/5/01 11:56 AM Page ii ALSO BY JACQUELYN MITCHARD

The Deep End of the Ocean

The Rest of Us

The Most Wanted

Theory[ixii] 6/5/01 11:56 AM Page iii A THEORY OF

relativity

Jacquelyn Mitchard

Theory[ixii] 6/5/01 11:56 AM Page iv This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the products of the author s imagination or are used ficti-tiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

A THEORY OF RELATIVITY. Copyright ' 2001 by Jacquelyn Mitchard. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable license to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of PerfectBound.

PerfectBound and the PerfectBound logo are trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers

AdobeAcrobat E-Book Reader edition v 1. May 2001

ISBN 0-06-001066-5

Print edition first published in 2001 HarperCollins Publishers 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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For Christopher and for Maria ChristopherAnd for Moochie

Theory[ixii] 6/5/01 11:56 AM Page vi Theory[ixii] 6/5/01 11:56 AM Page vii Mere gratitude is all I have to give to those whose knowledge and generosity made possible the telling of this story.

For sharing his understanding of science and students, I thank Greg Boyer. For their understanding of legal and psychological issues of child custody, I am grateful to Marlene Porter, Richard Auerbach, Greg Lyons, Elizabeth VanderWerf, and Cindy Jensen. Brenda ODonnell and Adrian Lund of the Insurance Institute of Highway Safety offered facts, as did Greg Siborski, Marilyn Chohaney, M.D., and Michael Brownstein of the National Institutes of Health. Artists Lora Donahue and Annette Turow lent expertise on their medium and its teaching. For painstaking legal research, I thank Clarice Dewey. For her research assistance, editing advice, and enduring friendship, I owe a great debt to Patricia Kelly.

Daniel Moeser is a wise and devoted judge and a kind friend. Franny Van Nevel, to whom I tell each story I write, gave me more of the bones of this tale than she will ever realize. My beloved brother, Bobby, his pal John, and my longtime friend, fellow writer Brian Hewitt, taught me golf enough for a gimme. For insights into the natural world of central Wisconsin, I thank Andy Johnston and my son Robert Allegretti.

My friends Anne D. LeClaire and Barbara Grossman were readers of exem-plary wisdom. During a harrowing passage, my agent of eighteen years and friend forever, Jane Gelfman, was my confidante and compass. Jennifer Her-shey edited this book with light and firm hands; Cathy Hemming published it with verve and idealism. The cover designer, Roberto De Vicq De Cumptich, gave this story its magnificent face.

To my daily friends and family, especially my endlessly resourceful assistant, Pamela English, my right hand, Jill DeYoung, and the Nora of my life, Karen Smith, my constant love and loyalty. To my daughters, Maria, Francie, and Jocelyn, and my sons, Rob, Daniel, and Martinthanks for sparing and forgiving me. To Joyce M. and Joyce S., Laurie, Karen T., Sam, Peg, Emily, Hillary, Sandy Mitchard, Stacey, Jane H., Patty, Artie, Larry, Pam, Mikey, Anna, Alyssa, Bryan, and the rest of my posse, three cheers and a hug. Special thanks to my godson and the namesake of Gordon McKenna.

And for special grace, I thank Rosie, Bob, and Scott.

Theory[ixii] 6/5/01 11:56 AM Page viii Theory[ixii] 6/5/01 11:56 AM Page ix How swiftly the strained honey

of afternoon light

flows into darkness

and the closed bud shrugs off

its special mystery

in order to break into blossom

as if what exists, exists

so that it can be lost

and become precious.

L I S E L M U E L L E R , In Passing The chief merit of the name relativity is in reminding us that a scientist isunavoidably a participant in the system he is studying.... In short, wouldthe laws of nature be the same for everyone, regardless of his place andmotion?

N I G E L C A L D E R , Einsteins Universe

My goodness. My gracious! they shouted. MY WORD!Its something brand new!

ITS AN ELEPHANT-BIRD!!

D R . S E U S S , Horton Hatches the Egg Theory[ixii] 6/5/01 11:56 AM Page x

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CONTENTS

EPIGRAPH

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About the Author

PerfectBound e-Books

CREDITS

FRONT COVER

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A THEORY OF relativity

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Theory[001-112] 6/5/01 11:58 AM Page 1

They died instantly.

Or close enough.

Gordon, of course, knew that instantly, in this context, didnt mean what it seemed to suggest: Several minutes would have passed inside the car after the impact, while the final tick and swoosh of Rays and Georgias heart-sent blood swept a pointless circuit, while muscles contracted loyally at the behest of a last volley of neurological commands. But there would have been no awareness, or only a few twilight secondsand no memory.

Most of the others in Tall Trees, the McKenna family and their friends, didnt know as much about the biology involved or care to.

Small town people, they were accustomed to having something to be grateful for, even death no more physically complex than a power fail-ure. It seemed to many a source of comfort. And as the months unfurled, comfort of any sort was in short supply.

Even Gordon had to admit he was relieved. Couldnt it have been worse, much, much worse?

It could have been. This, Gordon decided, in those few breathless, shocky moments as he prepared to leave his school classroom and drive to the scene of the accident at Lost Tribe Creek, would be his mantra.

He would not yowl and quake at this abrupt conclusion to the year of living catastrophically. He would not let himself come unglued. Dread 1

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JACQUELYN MITCHARD

tapped at his gut, like an unwelcome salesman tapping insistently at the window Your sister is dead; your sister really is dead! But Gordon breathed in and out, spoke to himself of focus.

He would be the one who remained analytical. Looking at the facts straight on was both his nature and his calling. He could do that best of anyone in his family. It would be the way he would protect himself and his parents.

He was, of course, frightened. All the signs. The trembling legs. The fluttering pulse. It had begun the moment he heard Sheriff Larsens voice.

Gordon, said the sheriff, what are you doing, son? What was he doing?

An old friend of his fathers calling him in the middle of a weekday, at school, though by rights he should not even have been there, the term having ended for summer break two weeks earlier, asking him what he was doing? Something was up, something bad; he could not imagine what; everything bad had already happened.