It’s Saturn

a flash story by David G Shrock

Bobby’s older brother, Daniel, set the telescope on the driveway. Bobby watched him scan the sky looking over the first few stars awakening in the fading light. He knew the major constellations, but not much more. Hunched over, Daniel lifted the tube aiming at the southern sky.

Watching his brother, Bobby waited.

Daniel nudged the scope and turned a knob at the base of the eyepiece.

Looking at the sky, Bobby saw a bright gleam floating in deep azure. He asked Daniel about the star. Head bobbing, Daniel switched between peering down the length of the tube and into the eyepiece. He adjusted a knob. Rising up, he stepped back.

Slinking up to the instrument, Bobby followed directions. He stood as tall as the telescope and had to stand on his toes to peer into the tiny eyepiece. A shining blob caught his eye. It wiggled within the view as he wobbled on his feet.

“It’s Saturn,” said Daniel.

Bobby had seen photographs of Saturn in a magazine. The blob inside the telescope appeared nothing like the planet on the glossy pages. He gazed at something shaped more like a squished ball. Holding breath, keeping still, he gazed into the eyepiece. The slender oval drifted sideways. Then he saw it. The tips on either side of the round center were rings. Details emerged. Nearly lost in a blur, two specks of darkness marked the space between the rings on either side of the planet. Peering up, he looked at the bright gem in the sky.

“Saturn,” said Bobby.

Realizing destinations filled the sky, the world expanded before Bobby’s eyes.

He had to know more. Pouring over books at the library, he absorbed it all. But never too much at a time. After each section, each small bite, he thought it over. The numbers and other data became images in his mind, but everything seemed so big. The schoolyard became a scale model: a basketball at one end and a marble resting on a paper cup at the other. Walking from the basketball to a blue bead planet, he imagined the trip to Earth. Eight minutes for light, a few less for his feet. Looking back at the basketball, he saw the sun. Peering the other way, at the other end of the football field, he spotted the marble on the cup. He saw Saturn. His eyes opened and questions poured in. What kept everything together?

“It’s gravity,” said Daniel. Explaining the force holding feet to the ground, he claimed that the same force kept the planets in orbit. Bobby argued that a force is physical like pulling a wagon. “An invisible force,” said Daniel. It sounded like a magical story.

The force story had never sat well with Newton, according to a book. The mathematics worked out, but what caused the force? Spinning a bucket overhead, Bobby watched the water stay inside. The arm and bucket were real, a physical force. The book pointed out that Mercury did not play by the rules of the invisible force story. Predictions of positions lost accuracy over time. The problem simmered in his head for years while he scoured books and thought about other problems. He took small bites, imagined the meanings, asked questions. His skills improved as each answer revealed tougher questions. Sitting in the car while picturing planetary orbits, the answer leaped into his thoughts.

Daniel listened quietly.

Bobby explained how everything followed natural pathways within the fabric of space warped by massive objects. Newton’s mathematics relating gravity to a force was only an approximation. Gravity was not like twirling a bucket of water.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read,” said Daniel.

Bobby questioned everything, taking small bites.

A book on Relativity, requiring small doses of reading and long hours of imagining, confirmed his suspicion. This different story and its mathematics predicted Mercury with high accuracy. He never shared this with Daniel. His brother had a new family on his mind. They talked about comet hunting and viewing planets. Problems twirled through Bobby’s head as he worked them out on my his own. Everyone has their own pace, their own hunger.

In a park after sunset, Bobby set up his new telescope. The heavy instrument whirred on its motors tracking the sky, revealing Saturn in clear detail. No longer a squished ball, the object in the eyepiece appeared much like the photographs in the magazine. Within the rings, Cassini’s Division carved a black line. Above the rings, two hazy stripes—cloud belts—crossed the planet. A young couple walked up and asked what he was looking at.

“It’s Saturn,” said Bobby.

Sometimes folks asked more questions, and he answered them. Knowledge was best served a bite at a time. The couple asked few question. Bobby didn’t explain gravity. He instructed on peering into the eyepiece. The couple marveled at the details, their small bite, and went on their way.

Peering into the eyepiece, watching Saturn float in the sky, Bobby recalled his first view, his first bite. He savored the delight.