I Can't Fly

Chapter 12

Mrs. Walter walked by each desk to check in the homework the next day. She noticed my empty desk and shook her head. "See me after class." I mentally groaned. 

Instead of doing boring math problems or doing the chapter outline packet for this class, I spent last night stress-bingeing Netflix. Ben plagued my thoughts, and I didn't know why. Maybe it's because he is a threat to every friendship and life achievement I have made so far? Like over the weekend, I contemplated whether I should tell Saturn about Ben and me at Wyatt's party. Surely she would believe me if I told her Ben was a psychopath, right? At times, I came close. My finger would hesitate over the send button after texting a long paragraph. However, I would always talk myself out of it. I watched the cursor move slowly as it deleted my long, carefully worded piece of writing. I knew if I told Saturn, it would end up leaking to Wyatt. This was perfectly normal for a couple in my mind. Couples didn't keep secrets. However, I knew eventually Wyatt would purposefully or accidentally reveal my rant to Ben. At that point in time, he might have another "chat" with me, telling me to keep my mouth shut. He wouldn't want me to hurt his reputation, now would he? Or he would threaten to reveal that I could fly. Would people even believe him? Probably. He was the darling of the town. 

More fears erupted as the topic of flying arose. Why did fly this time and not other times? Will I be more likely to fly again since I did it recently? Would I have to move again? The memory played in my mind like it was fresh into the DVD player. 

The sun was high as us children played on the school's playground. The mothers or fathers gathered on the side benches. This gathering ritual that families followed each weekend was one of the only escapes from the confining cooking, cleaning, and up-close-and-personal taking care of their children. All of us were ready to enjoy the warm summer weather with full bellies and bathroom breaks already taken care of. 

I pounded my feet on the woodchips as I ran in crazy circles as twenty of us children played freeze tag. My pants soon became dirty from crawling underneath people's legs to unfreeze them. My Mom and Dad didn't notice from all the way on the sidelines. I was at least three inches smaller than the other children but I prided myself on being the fastest kiddo in town. At times I became out of breath but the adrenaline of the game overrode the feeling. We all laughed as we ran around. Every five minutes we switched taggers since the players skillfully evaded the taggers. I didn't care if I was a tagger or a taggee. The thrill of the game made this playtime worthwhile, along with teaming up with my friends.

Samuel, Paula, and Lexi ran with me up slides and climbed onto the monkey bars. While I was five years old and they were seven, they didn't care. At that age, gender, skin color, age, or family background didn't matter. Most of what I knew about them were their favorite colors, hobbies, and their pets' names. From our spots on the top of the monkey bars, we could take a break from the game. Most of the other kids couldn't climb up so high, attempting to swat at our feet then giving up to chase someone else. However, that day, while Samuel stuttered about a new race car he got for his birthday, his mother squealed when she saw us in such a high place off the ground. She jumped up from her bench and demanded that we get down. We abruptly stopped our conversation and went back to running. We weren't too mad. We yelled to each other comments or snippets of conversation between laughing and being frozen in place. 

At one point, one of the players ran into the open, grassy field with one of the taggers close behind. No one paid much attention, but the rest of the players were able to unfreeze everyone else. It was a few minutes afterward as we stood around waiting to be tagged that we became curious. Our parents kept their eyes glued on their phones or engrossed in their parent talk while about half of the children broke away. We slowly passed over the grassy field where we would sometimes play soccer or other school field day events. The field transitioned into a wooded area. We followed the trails, calling out the two missing children's names. Everything around us looked gigantic, from the nearby branches to the tall tree tops. The forest shade provided some relief from the hot summer sun and heat. Sweat dripped from our faces and the unlucky children who didn't wear sunscreen were becoming pink. We touched all of the nature around us either fascinated or looking for branches to use for sword fights.