Mr. Avagadro
Amadeo at the Pub
By Bernie Langer
About this piece: A tip of the hat to my 10th grade chemistry teacher, Darrin Bonecutter, who taught me about a dead white guy named Amadeo Avagadro, who figured out how to make up really long numbers dealing with the amount of particles required in a chemical reaction. Mr. Bonecutter also informed me of a major scientific inaccuracy in this story. It's still there, if you really care.
Mr. Avagadro
The results could not have been correct. There couldn’t be eleven particles in a molecule. Amadeo Avagadro scratched his head. The clock showed midnight. From this, the great scientist was able to determine that the clock was broken. He looked at the sun. It was beginning to set. Amadeo needed a good drink.
He decided to take a jaunt over to O’Tony’s Pub. O’Tony used to be O’Malley, but everyone wondered why there was an Irish pub in Italy, so he changed the name. “The usual, Tony,” Amadeo said.
Tony groaned. “ ‘Deo, do you know what a pain it is to pour you three point-seven two times ten to the third milliliters of Ale for you, every time you walk in here?” Amadeo ignored him. Tony handed him a drink. “So, ‘Deo, why so down?”
“Eh, Tony, I can’t figure out women,” he responded. “Did I say women? I meant number of particles in a molecule. Hand me another drink, will ya?”
Just then, an attractive woman came up to Amadeo. “Are you Amadeo Avagadro?” She had a body like a mountain highway; curvy, but no wide lanes. Her eyes seemed to say, “Hey, ‘Deo.”
“Yeah, I like mountain highways- I mean, I’m Amadeo.”
“Oh, Mr. Avagadro, could you help me? Ohh, Mr. Avagadro, could you?” Her voice was pleading, yet soothing.
“Sure baby, whaddaya need?”
“Oh, Mr. Avagadro, my husband’s been murdered! I need your help!” The word “husband” seemed to kill Amadeo, and “murder” brought him back to life. But he was still at a loss.
“Honey, I’m a scientist, not a private-eye! Don’t you understand?”
“Mr. Avagadro, do you mean you can’t help me?” she pouted.
“Sorry, sugar. I’d love to, but no can do.” She walked away in a huff. Amadeo felt dejected. A muscular man in a black suit walked up behind him.
“Hey! Is you Ama-deyo Avocado?” Amadeo gulped.
“I didn’t know the mafia existed in Italy in the late eighteenth century!” Amadeo said.
“Yes. ‘Dis is true. I am merely an Italian like you, but wit’ a dialect,” the man responded.
"Whew!” Amadeo said. “I thought you were going to threaten me for some reason.”
The man cracked his knuckles. “Who says I wasn’t? Now, lis-ten ta me, Mistuh Avocado. An associate of mine in ‘da chemistry biz-niss has a little wajuh wit’ someone else. My friend says ‘dat ‘der are six point oh-two particles in a molecule, but wit’ a lot mo’a zeros. ‘De udduh’ gentle-man says udduh-wise. Now, Amadeo, Proffesuh’ Avocado, we all know ‘dat you knows how many particles ‘der are in one molecule. Amadeo, how many particles are in a molecule?”
“Well, uh, I don’t know yet. . .”
“Amadeo,” the man responded, “I’m askin’ you bote’ as a friend, and as a muscle-bound thug, how many particles are ‘der in a molecule?”
Amadeo started to catch on. “Well, I suppose it could be, um, six point oh-two multiplied by ten to the, uh, twenty-third exponent particles in a molecule.” To Amedeo’s surprise, the man didn’t understand. “That’s six point oh-two with a lot of zeros.”
“Ah,” said the man. “Now, I do suppose ‘dat it would not incon-venience you to take a short walk wit’ me, so you can announce you’ newly discovered findin’ to ‘da general public.”
With few choices, Amadeo was about to head out, but he then considered what he was becoming a part of. Compromising science for some bet between two undoubtedly shady characters. And the “udduh gentle-man” probably would be less than thrilled with his findings.
“My friend, Mistuh Mafioso, will be more ‘den ‘tankful for your ex-tensive research,” the man said.
“Did you say, ‘Mr. Mafioso?”
“No. I said, uh, Mistuh Reynoso.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” Amadeo said cautiously, “but I don’t think I can go with you.”
“Mistuh, um, Alfonzo will be most dis-pleased,” the man responded. “I im-ploah you, please come.”
"I’m sorry, I just can’t.”
The man was about to protest further, but instead he walked away. Amadeo thought how easy that turned out to be. But then someone came and sat next to him.
“Ohh, Mr. Avagadro, could you please, please, tell me, how many particles are there in a molecule?”