The Gravity of Anti-Gravity (5 page)

“Bill,” Pops continued, rethinking his outburst, “you know I’m not a very trusting person but if I were to trust anyone in the world, it would be Jerry. He’s become a fine and courageous man. Even though I believe more strongly than ever that we have to keep our experiments secret, he knows now. You’ve told him. It’s too late. I need to reinforce to him the importance of keeping quiet. Will you help me do that?”

“I will Pops.” I said meekly.

-7-

As strange as life is sometimes, I got a letter from Brenda. In this age of emails, texting, tweeting and simple phone calls, a letter seemed odd. I knew it was from her because of the BYU return address. I looked at it and that old, uncomfortable feeling of anger and confusion came over me. I threw the envelope down and scrawled “Return to Sender” on it.

Then I picked it back up, held it in my hand, looked at her handwriting and tore it open. As I opened it, my thoughts went back to high school and the wonderful times we’d had. I remembered how much I’d loved her and how much it hurt when she decided that she wanted to date other people.

It was a beautifully written letter. She reminisced about the fun we had and how unfortunate it was that we ended our relationship on such a sour note; a fact that she now regretted. She said that she had heard from a mutual friend that I was about to graduate from Cal-Tech and congratulated me for that. Then she let me know that in June she was getting her degree and planned to return to California to attend UCLA to get her teaching credential.

Then she dropped her bomb. It was an excruciating request. It was a request that made me angry and jump for joy, all at the same ti
me. She wanted to see me again.

The next day I sent a text to Brenda. I decided to respond to her with the same last message she’d sent to me two years earlier. It said “Got your letter – FINE!”

Brenda had been my girlfriend in high school. Because of my friendship with Jerry, I was always included in the ‘in crowd’ even though I felt I revolved at the far outer reaches of that circle. Late in my junior year, Jerry made sure that I was invited to a party his girlfriend was throwing and he dared me to get a date.

I was a shy guy around girls but using Jerry’s challenge for motivation, I forced myself to ask Brenda Harris to go with me. Brenda was 5 ft 7, had dark blond hair and a great figure; not too much and not too little of anything, and was a Mormon. She was truly cute and sassy and had a smile that captivated anyone around her. She was in my English class and one day when the class ended, I followed her out and walked beside her.

“Brenda, I’m Bill
Burton,” I said.

“I know who you are,” she said coolly.

“There is a party at Janice Williams’ house on Friday night. Would you like to go with me?” I asked nervously.

Brenda stopped, stepped back and slowly looked at me up and down.

“Do you drive Mr. Burton or will someone else be driving?” she asked sounding like a prosecuting attorney.

“I have my license and will be driving my grandparent’s car,” I answered. “But you can call me Bill.”

With that, Brenda laughed out loud and answered, “Sure, Bill, I’ll go out with you. And loosen up. I love making guys feel nervous and you Bill, were way too easy.”

That date started a wonderful relationship. Through our
senior year we were ‘a couple’ and we went everywhere together.

Near the end of our senior year, I was accepted to every school I applied to but I really wanted to go to Cal Tech. It was near where I lived so I could keep costs down by commuting in my pride and joy – a 1988 Saturn. The car was ugly with lots of dents and the joke of the senior class but somehow Pops managed to keep it running and that was all I needed.

Even though
I scored very high on my SATs and I had straight ‘A’s throughout high school, I knew that getting into Cal-Tech would be a miracle of the first order. Mr. Korns, my high school math teacher and I lobbied anybody and everybody we knew to send a barrage of letters of recommendation to the Cal Tech professors and to the administration of the school.

Then the unbelievable happened. T
he acceptance letter came from Cal-Tech. Considering that their freshman enrollment is only about 250 students per year makes Cal-Tech one of the most difficult schools in the world to enter. I had been offered a full academic scholarship from several other great schools and even though there was no financial aid offered from Cal Tech at all, I gladly accepted. My grandparents could afford some tuition and that coupled with some of the life insurance money I received when my parents died would get me close. I figured if I got a part time job I could make up the difference.

I would have to live at the same home I’d lived in for the last four years but that was O.K. Pops and I had become very close working together in his barn. He taught me to operate all of his machine tools
and I got quite good with them; but never as good as he was. He was the master.

Living at home also allowed me to keep closer to my sister Joanna. As I was getting ready to graduate from high school, she was going in. She was beginning to blossom into a beautiful young woman, smart and vivacious.
Already she was five-four and had long blond hair and a slender figure. We had become very close since the death of our parents. Where we used to fight, we replaced it with honest conversation about just about everything. These talks helped us both cope with our own personal tragedy.

When Brenda found out about my acceptance to Cal-Tech she seemed happy. In long discussions I tried to convince her to attend a local college so we could be together. She was a good student too and was accepted to UCLA and Pepperdine. After almost a month of deliberations she decided to go to BYU in Utah.

I am pretty sure that behind the scenes, her family and church steered her away from me.
Thinking of myself as a young scientist who needed proof, taking things on faith, like religion was hard. When I explained that joining her church was not in my immediate future, I got the sense that it was the beginning of the end of our relationship.

I loved Brenda with everything in me, but I knew the next four years were going to be the toughest of my life. I had set some priorities and put religion too far down the list for Brenda.

“Bill I love you and if our relationship is meant to be, going to two different schools won’t change that,” Brenda explained.

“I’d like to know who started that saying Brenda, ‘If it’s meant to be’. Who knows what’s meant to be? Were the early deaths of my parents ‘meant to be’? Were all the other tragedies that have happened throughout the eons of time ‘meant to be’? Why don’t you just go to school at UCLA so we can be together?”

“Why don’t you just go to school at BYU? Wouldn’t it accomplish the same thing?”

“But I’ve got the
opportunity of a lifetime; a chance to go to Cal-Tech.”

“And I’ve got the opportunity to go to BYU and that’s one of my lifetime dreams.”
Brenda countered.

“Nice strategy Brenda. You’re defending your position with logic and I want to argue from my emotional side. It’s a world turned upside down!
” I moaned”

“I guess we have com
e to a crossroads in life, Bill,” said Brenda. “You know what you want and I do too.”

At the end of the summer after high school, we reaffirmed our love for each other. When I drove away from her house that last time before she left for BYU, I didn’t cry but it took every ounce of self control not to. I had hardened my emotions after my parents were k
illed and this was a true test.

The next year flew by. I got good grades even though I was far from a valedictorian candidate. School work, my part time job, my work on the world’s greatest invention and the fact that I sensed my relationship with Brenda was weakening, had a profound affect on my disposition.

I suspected something was up when Brenda decided to stay in
Utah for the summer between our freshman and sophomore years. She had gotten a part time job working at school so she decided to also take some summer school classes. She did come home for a few weeks but it was apparent she didn’t feel as close to me as she once did. Our time together was great but my worst fear was realized when, as she was leaving, she suggested that we both date other people so we could ‘test our love’.

“Brenda, are you breaking up with me?”

“Absolutely not!” answered Brenda. “Bill, you haven’t dated anybody seriously except for me. I want to make sure that you are certain that I’m the one and only for you. I’ve dated a little more than you, and I know you are the one for me but let’s both find out for sure. You’ve got to trust me. This is the best way right now. Oh, here’s my ride, I’ve got to go. Keep in touch and let me know how things are going all the time, OK?”

“Brenda, I love you and I always will, but I haven’t felt this frightened since my folks died. Have a safe trip. I’ll talk to you soon.”

I felt strongly that what Brenda was telling me was a monstrous crock and unfortunately my suspicions were confirmed at the end of our sophomore year. She was coming home for summer vacation and sent me a text saying that she was looking forward to seeing me again but didn’t feel that it was in our best interest to be exclusive right now.

Even though it killed me to do it, I answered back and said that I couldn’t stand the thought of her being with another guy. I said that it was probably better that we didn’t see each other until ‘exclusive’ became part of the discussion again.

I got the text reply I really didn’t want. Brenda said “FINE!”

-8-

Pops and I decided that next Saturday night would be the best time to take the new and improved Flying Wallenda out for its first test drive. Jerry came over about 6 P.M. and helped us place all the equipment in position. The new machine had separate motors driving each outer orb so now the speed of each could be varied individually. This increased the overall weight and now we were getting a total payload number of 211.5 pounds. About 7 P.M. we were ready to go. Pops was watching the feedback on the computer screen and I was moving the dials that controlled the speed of the five orbs. Jerry was standing at the far end of the barn with binoculars. Oh ye of little faith, I thought.

“Pops are you ready?” I asked. He gave me a thumbs up. First I started the large middle orb spinning. It quickly got up to 25,000 RPM’s. I looked at Pops. He nodded and gave me another thumbs up. Then I started two of the smaller orbs on opposite corners to help keep everything balanced followed by the last two small orbs.

So far so good, I thought. I was nervous and the adrenaline my body was producing kept my mind as acutely focused as it had ever been.

Suddenly Jerry yelled, “come on, let’s get this show on the road, I’ve got a date with a hottie in an hour.”

That comment really lightened the mood. I smiled over at Jerry, cranked the dial and Pops started calling out rotation speeds.

“Middle 50,000, smalls - 30,000.” I went some more.

“Middle 75,000, smalls - 50,000.”

“Any change on the scale?” I asked. Pops shook his head, no.

“Any unusual vibrations?” Again he shook his head, no so I cranked the dial some more.

“Middle 100,000, smalls 50,000.” Pops yelled

This was the point at which we got some reduction in weight in the first experiment. I looked at Pops for some sign of a change. He shook his head

Now I was getting worried. I yelled, “Any vibration problem” Pops again shook his head.

My calculations didn’t give me the exact speed needed to create the anti-gravity effect. They only gave me a range. The middle Orb’s range was 100,000 to 110,000 RPM’s. The side orbs needed to be rotating between 50,000 and 65,000 RPM’s. I was afraid we could spend the next nine years finding the perfect balance between all the orbs.

I decided to increase the main orb’s speed close to the upper limit. I cranked the dial and Pops yelled out 108,000. I then slowly increased the spin of the outer orbs.

“52,000, 54,000, 56,000.” Pops called out.

I looked over at Pops and his eyes were the size of silver dollars. He yelled, “Weight – 204.2 pounds; Weight 198.3.” Again I moved the dial just slightly. Pops called out the speed of the small orbs “57,500.”

Then as smoothly as could be, the entire Flying Wallenda lifted above its perch about three inches and continued to slowly go up!

I froze for a moment while I gathered my thoughts. The anti-gravity device was actually hovering. Even though Pops tried to stop me, I walked over to the device, reached over the plexi-glass shield and gave it a small shove.

Despite the fact that the machine normally weighed over 200 pounds, just the small nudge moved it over about twenty inches. I pushed the device on the opposite side and it floated over close to its original position near its stand. Its smoothness reminded me of an ice cube sliding across a pane of glass. But, with this device, at this moment, there was nothing under it but air!

With a feeling which could only be described as out-of-body, I moved back to the control panel while staring in awe at the hovering Flying Wallenda. I reduced the outer orb speeds and the machine immediately crashed down to its perch. Fortunately it was only a fall of about eight inches. Then I killed all the power and waited for everything to stop rotating.