Why the Tower of Pisa Stopped Falling
Why the Tower of Pisa Stopped Falling — a science story. 10 illustrated pages, narrated, on the kids shelf, free to read on Wonder Science.
Page 1
Gigi stood on tiptoe as Nonno Tullio leaned down from his gelato cart, his round belly bumping the counter, and balanced a fat golden scoop of lemon gelato on her waiting cone. 'Careful now, piccola, hold it steady!' he called, but the scoop wobbled, tipped, and slid off, smacking onto the grass with a wet plop. Gigi gasped and dropped to her knees, scrambling after it, but the lemon slice on top broke free and began rolling, curving strangely across the lawn as if pulled by invisible string. Pesto shot after it like an arrow, kinked tail streaming, dodging sandaled feet. Luca Ferrante, folding ruler bouncing from his pocket, lunged to block a startled tourist from stepping on the rolling slice, his long arms spread wide. Tourists scattered, clutching cameras, as the gelato kept curving, always bending toward the tower's leaning side, never rolling straight. Gigi skidded to a stop, breathless, staring at the impossible curved track pressed into the grass.
Page 2
Two hundred and ninety-four steps, round and round, and the stairs leaned harder with every turn until Gigi was running sideways to stay on the stone. Luca ducked under a bronze bell taller than himself and hauled the iron rail, dragging himself up the last leaning stretch. Nonno Tullio puffed behind, slamming a hand on the wall to steady himself. At the top Luca unhooked his brass plumb-bob, letting the string drop over the rail. It swung, and swung, and never touched the stone below — just hung in empty air, far from the wall it should have kissed. "Look how far out it swings!" gasped Gigi, grabbing the rail. Then her spyglass slid off its ribbon, bumped her chest, and went rolling across the tilted floor toward the open edge. Everyone lunged — but Pesto was faster, skidding sideways and slamming his white paw flat on the brass barrel just before it vanished through the railing. "Good cat," wheezed Tullio, scooping it up.
Page 3
The roll of drawings was taller than Gigi, heavier than it looked, and it took all three of them to drag it through the great bronze doors of the Baptistery. 'Haul it to the middle!' puffed Luca, bent nearly double, walking it backward across the marble like a stubborn log. Gigi grabbed the far end and tugged with both hands, wellies squeaking on the stone. With one last heave they let go and the paper slammed open across the patterned floor, the slap of it booming up into the dome and rolling back down as a second echo, then a third. Pesto, startled, came skidding across the marble on all four paws and landed smack in the middle of the paper, claws scrabbling for grip. 'Off, off, you'll smudge the ink!' laughed Nonno Tullio, scooping the cat up with one arm while plucking gelato spoons from his apron pocket with the other, pinning down each curling corner so the great map of the tower's foundations lay flat and still.
Page 4
Gigi scrambled down the muddy riverbank below the bridge, her wellington boots sliding as she grabbed a tangle of reeds to stop herself tumbling into the Arno. She called up that she had found the soft patch, kneeling and digging both hands into the bank until she hauled up a fat grey fistful of clay. She scrambled back up the slope and slapped it straight into Luca's waiting palm. He squeezed it slowly, and the clay oozed between his long bony fingers like toothpaste from a tube, and he said this was their answer, for the whole tower was standing on such soft stuff. Nonno Tullio, waiting by his cart at the bridgehead, popped three last cones into cold scoops and pressed them into their hands, saying these were the last ones from this old cart and that she would stay parked right here now. He wheeled the cart to a stop against the bridge wall and waved his apron like a flag as Gigi, Luca and Pesto set off upriver, clay still clinging to Luca's fingers.
Page 5
Down at the Livorno docks the cranes creaked like old giants stretching. Bea Tozzi grabbed the crane's levers with both gloved hands and swung the long arm out over the quay. A netted pallet of dull grey lead ingots dangled, swaying, then dropped the last stretch and slammed onto the stone with a thud so heavy the puddles jumped clean off the ground. Gigi came running, boots slapping, and crouched beside one ingot taller than her knee. She wrapped both arms around it, planted her wellingtons, and heaved. The ingot rose exactly one inch, wobbled, and thumped back down, tipping Gigi backward onto a thick coil of rope where she landed with a surprised bounce. Luca hurried over, stooping so far his ponytail nearly brushed the ground, and steadied her shoulder with one long hand. Pesto trotted along the pallet's edge, sniffing the netting, tail kinking with curiosity while the ferries hooted behind them and the old Fortezza Vecchia stood watching over the water.
Page 6
Dawn light slanted along the marble arcade as the trolleys squeaked under their grey loads. Gigi pushed with both hands, feet skidding on the smooth floor, while Luca hauled the next trolley through the arch, ducking his tall frame below the stone arches. Bea directed the stacking, slamming each ingot into place to build the grey walls, knee-high then waist-high as they rose. Suddenly one ingot wobbled, slid from the trolley, and thudded into the soft earth lawn, sinking half its depth into the turf. "It's sunk right in!" Gigi shouted, pointing. Bea dropped to her knees, grabbed the long plank from the stack, and wedged it under the ingot's edge, heaving with her whole body until it popped free with a wet suck. Luca steadied the trolley so it wouldn't roll away. Meanwhile Pesto, startled by the thud, bolted up a column and tore flat out along the sunlit roof tiles above the cloister, bell jingling wildly as he ran the length of the arcade, pausing only to peer down at the grey walls below.
Page 7
The grey mountain grew ingot by ingot. Bea hauled the crane lever back, and the netted bundle swung up over the collar ring, hip-high at first, now chest-high, now taller than Luca himself. She slammed the release and the ingots thudded into place with a sound like thunder rolling underground. Gigi scrambled along the planks, pressing her spyglass to one eye, counting the layers aloud as they stacked. Pesto trotted beside her, batting at loose pebbles that bounced off the collar. Luca knelt at the marble base, chalk in hand, watching the thin white line he'd drawn weeks ago. For the first time in years, it did not creep sideways. He pressed his palm flat against the stone, feeling for the faintest shift, and found none. Bea swung down from the crane cab, grabbed the next netted pallet, and hauled it into place beside the others, grunting with the effort. Gigi dropped her spyglass to her chest and threw both arms in the air, shouting the count triumphant across the fenced yard.
Page 8
A thin electronic ping cut through the midnight silence, sharp as a bell with a cold in its nose. On the hip-high wooden table, Luca's pencil trembled, rolled off the edge, and clattered onto the flagstones. Right beside it, Bea's tin mug of cocoa tipped and slid, spilling a dark puddle across the uneven stone floor. "She's nudging the wrong way!" Luca barked, snatching his half-moon spectacles off his nose to peer at the dial. Bea was already moving, grabbing two lead ingots from the stacked pile taller than her knee and hauling them toward the tower's inner wall. Gigi scrambled after her, dragging a smaller ingot with both arms wrapped around it, boots skidding on the damp stone. Pesto trotted ahead through the open doorway, tail kinking with purpose, lantern light bouncing off his white paw as he led the way into the dark. Again and again they ran the loop — out to the cart, back through the echoing drum, stacking the grey weights by lantern glow until the alarm's ping finally slowed, then stopped.
Page 9
The forty-one slanted drill tubes began to wind backward, groaning as their long steel augers slid up out of the ground. Gigi grabbed a bucket brimming with grey clay and staggered sideways, tipping it with a wet slap into the waiting barrow. Bea hauled another bucket free of the tube, muscles bunching, and slammed it down beside Gigi for the next tip. Luca knelt at the tower's base, unrolling his measuring tape across the marble, his eyes darting between the numbers. The ground settled with a soft shudder as the last auger slid free. Luca's tape stopped trembling, and he stared, mouth falling open beneath his big moustache. "Forty-four centimetres!" he bellowed, snapping the tape shut. Gigi dropped her bucket and threw both arms in the air, spinning in her oversized raincoat. Bea thumped a fist against the barrow's rim, rattling the clay inside, and let out a whoop that echoed off the Camposanto wall. Pesto came scrambling across the lawn, bell jingling, and leapt clean onto the barrow's edge, teetering before settling with his tail curled high, as if claiming the victory himself.
Page 10
Gigi scrambles up the last stone step onto the wall-walk, the parapet rising waist-high beside her, and hauls her knotted streamer out of her coat pocket. Forty-four knots, one for every centimetre won back. She grabs the end and flings it over the parapet, and Bea catches the other end before it tangles, stretching it taut between them so the white paper snaps and ripples in the wind. Below, the bells in the tower burst into ringing, bronze voices rolling across the rooftops, and a cloud of doves explodes upward off the cathedral dome, wings slapping the air past Bea's shoulder. Luca plants his long legs wide, whips off his hard hat and waves it over his head, whooping through his moustache. Pesto bolts along the stone walkway, kinked tail high, and leaps onto the parapet ledge to watch the doves swirl. Gigi laughs so hard she nearly drops the streamer, but Bea's steady grip keeps it flying straight out over the red rooftops toward the tower, standing proud and finally, truly still.
About this story
- Audience: kids (ages 6–12)
- Format: 10 illustrated pages, narrated, on the kids shelf, free to read on Wonder Science
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