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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1925816-The-Scientific-Method
Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1925816
Once a scientist, always a scientist. Entry for 03/26/13 prompt in The Writer's Cramp.
“I’ve just always found things easier with science, you know?” Alyssa mused. “You start with a question.  And it could be anything— How do birds achieve flight?  Are birds truly descended from dinosaurs?  Do birds have a form of communication? I suppose you could say I have a slight fascination with birds.”

         The man simply smiled, something in his eyes urging her to continue.

         “Then you do some research from which you can potentially form a hypothesis. It’s the beginning premise of the ‘scientific method.’ I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

         “Rumors, mostly,” the man replied.

         Alyssa let out a light chuckle. “Of course.”

         “What comes next?”

         She didn’t even have to think about it.  “Then—and here’s my most favorite part—you test your hypothesis by conducting experiments.  In the case of communication among birds, for instance, perhaps you find a way to mimic a series of sounds to form even the most basic of messages, such as, ‘Watch out for that cat!’ and test it on a bunch of birds. Over and over and over.”

         “’I tawt I taw a putty tat,’” said the man.

         “What?” asked Alyssa.

         “Tweety Bird.”

         She tilted her head, an inquisitive expression flashed across her youthful face.

         “It’s a cartoon. Before your time, I suppose.”

         She rolled her eyes playfully.  “You will then analyze the results of your experiments from which you can, hopefully, somehow draw a conclusion, and report your findings.”

         “That birds can talk?”

         “Maybe. Until now, I haven’t even thought about conducting such an experiment.” She looked away from him. “Too late now.”

         “When you were twelve, you said you wanted to be an ornithologist,” the man said, matter-of-factly.

         “Yes!” Alyssa said, “My father encouraged it, too. Took me bird-watching almost every weekend after I made that declaration, and brought me to the Museum of Natural History every chance he got. I’d always appreciated that about him.  He got me all kinds of books, and DVDs— anything to help keep me on my ornithological path.”

         “Until you realized teaching was where your passion lay.”

         “A very passionate science teacher, I was,” she said, then laughed. “Sorry. Just pulled a Yoda, there.”

         The man grinned, stood, and surveyed the scene. The crowd had dissipated after the ambulance had driven away, its siren always seeming to signal the end of the show. The remaining police officers were interviewing the last few bystanders who had witnessed the whole thing go down. He looked at Alyssa, a solemn expression on her face.

         “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

         She looked at him, then back at the wreckage—a mangled, almost indistinguishable version of her former Volkswagen Jetta. (How she loved that car!)  “This… condition,” she said, finding the right word within the scientific framework she was so used to relying upon.  “I can’t say I was ever prepared for it.”

         “Knowing what you thought you knew,” the man added, seeming to complete her thought.

         Alyssa said nothing.  At first, she didn’t immediately notice the beam of light forming next to her new companion.  She didn’t see it grow wider by the second, engulfing everything around in the brightest light she would ever see.  The scene of the accident gripped her attention in those last few moments of her time in the only reality she knew up until then.

         “Ready?” her companion asked, his voice peaceful, soothing.

         She finally regarded the light, and squinted at its brightness. It had obscured everything around her in a muddling glow. “What’s going to happen now? Am I going to heaven? Is there a heaven? I’ve never really believed.”

         “Do you really want me to tell you or would you prefer to form a hypothesis?”

         She smiled at that. Clever, she thought. “Always a scientist, I suppose.”

         Her companion took her hand. “By the way, my name is Michael.”

         “Nice to meet you, Michael,” Alyssa said, then stepped into the light with the first angel she met that day.


Contest Entry for The Writers Cramp, 3/26/2013
Prompt:  Write a story 1000 words or less or a poem 40 lines or less about a teacher whose opinions on life are challenged by a new conflict she's never experienced before.
Word Count:  661
© Copyright 2013 Sam N. Yago (jonsquared at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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