Tess and Harry on the Dock

“I still don’t understand about the butterfly,” said Tess.

“What butterfly?”

“The one who flaps his wings in Brazil and then there’s a typhoon in Japan.”

“A hurricane in Texas.”

“Whatever. How can that happen?”

“It’s called chaos theory. Some systems are so complex that their behavior seems to be random.”

“What do you mean by systems?”

“Like the oceans, for instance. If you toss a bottle with a message in it into the water, it’s impossible to predict where it will end up. There are too many different forces working on it—different currents, changing temperatures, wind and weather—”

“Dolphins,” said Tess.

“Dolphins aren’t exactly a natural force.”

“Sure they are. A dolphin could pick up the bottle and take it somewhere.”

“Fine, dolphins. The point is the system seems chaotic and unpredictable. But chaos theory says that the movement of that bottle is not random. It conforms to underlying patterns, which may be far too complex for us to detect or understand. At least when we are nine.”

“I understand more than you think.”

“I’m sure you do, Tess.”

“What does all this have to do with the butterfly?”

“Chaos theory states that a small change in the initial condition of a system can lead to huge differences over time. In other words, if you throw that bottle into the ocean at one spot, it might end up in France, but if you walk fifty yards down the beach and throw it there, it might end up somewhere else.”

“That’s kind of scary.”

“Why is it scary?”

“Because if I change one little thing about my behavior, if I go to bed now instead of ten minutes from now, it could change the whole course of my life.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, as long as you don’t stay up too late.”

“But you’re wrong,” said Tess, standing up and clenching her fists. “You’re telling me that not only can I not predict where the complex system that is my life will lead, but if I make one tiny mistake, it could end in catastrophe.”

“It’s just a physics theory,” said Harry.

“It’s not just a physics theory,” said Tess, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You taught me that. You taught me that physics governs everything and now, because I stood up when I did, I might end up homeless and alone.”

“What’s going on here?” asked Marie, striding onto the dock. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” She pulled Tess into an embrace and shot an angry look at Harry. “What did you do?”

“I told her about chaos theory.”

“Why would you do a thing like that?” said Marie.

“She asked.”

“One of these days, Harry Maxwell,” said Marie, leading her sobbing daughter off the dock, “you’re going to have to be the adult in the relationship.”

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