(no subject)

7.

It would be weeks before anything he said got more than an angry look in response from his brother. David had not been hurt, but he had been humiliated and that went a long way towards unacceptable country.

Mickey thought that he should just make him fly from where he stood.

That jumping off the roof had been both unnecessary and David’s idea. But that voice in your head that keeps you from jumping into the tree shredder kept him from broaching the subject at this moment.

Something good did happen, though. The Galvan’s from down the street went on vacation and hired him to look in on their dog for two weeks.

With no pets in his house that were really capable of running around with, Mickey relished the chance to frolic with Chance.

Chance was a Golden Lab (whatever that was) and a truly beautiful dog. He was also of the best temperament around Mickey. The two of them could run and wrestle and fetch Frisbees and do all the things for which you get a dog.

The dog was strong and fast. There were times that Mickey had to hold onto the canine’s collar just to keep up with him. Luckily the pooch was good at taking orders and was pretty well trained.

It was on the third of their morning walks that the idea hit the boy.

If he endowed Chance and held onto his collar, then they, together, could fly.

He wondered how much this would spook the dog.

Then he wondered how much it would spook him.

He practiced running with Chance and getting him to stop on a dime. He got the dog to do “right” and “left” with hand signals, and that seemed to go well.

Tomorrow would be the day.

Tomorrow the two of them would fly.

Mickey tried not to think of David.

Or the hamster.

Or the bear.

Tomorrow.

(c) 2005 by C. Wayne Owens

(no subject)

8.

The morning came with that tinge of unreality that hangs over birthdays and Christmas. The air itself seems to wait just out of reach, waiting for something great to stir it.

No one else knew, so they didn’t understand the smile that infested Mickey’s face during breakfast. It was going to give him away, he just knew it, but there was nothing to be done about it.

If anyone else noticed that slightly more crisp quickness in his step, or the twinkle that must have been in his eyes, they didn’t mention it.

There were a couple of times he almost laughed out loud, for no good reason. But he withstood the urge.

But he did allow himself a low giggle once he was outside on the street alone.

He was going to fly today. And if that worked, he was going to fly everyday from now on.

He was going to be a superhero at last.

He was going to be more than he had ever been.

He didn’t know how he would use this to make the world better, but he would. He would save lives and defeat evil, and hold chaos at bay.

But first, he was going to fly!

He found what started as a stroll to the Galvan’s house had escalated to a quick march and was now on the verge of becoming a run.

He forced himself to slow down. If he was going to become an epic hero he was going to have to exhibit a bit of restraint.

You never saw Captain America skipping down the street like a child.

He sped up again, thinking, “Captain America can’t fly!”

He turned the corner and was welcomed by the friendly bark of Chance. The dog strained only slightly on his restraining chain. He wasn’t worried, he knew his new friend was coming, and they would go for a run.

He had no idea.

Mickey took the leash from the nail on the wall and walked over to the dog.

“Hey, Chance,” he said as he brushed the canine’s head, “Hey buddy.”

The dog was glad to see him, and began to pick up on Mickey’s excitement.

The boy tried to calm himself and the dog as he traded the leash for the doghouse chain.

“’Member yesterday when I told you we were going to fly?”

The dog tried desperately to look like he understood the words, but what he wanted to do was run and jump and be free.

“Well, this is it!”

The pair ran out to the street and Chance kept jumping up on Mickey in anticipation of a run.

The boy took a death grip on the dog’s collar and let go of the power.

Like the two were shot out of a cannon they left the ground.

The dog looked for a second like he was growing scared, and then his attention was taken by a passing bird. With a minimum of trouble, he took after the creature, much to the bird’s chagrin.

They banked left, then swept right and then swooped down towards a hot dog stand.

Mickey urged the dog back up. He didn’t want to be seen just yet.

The dog seemed to be at ease quickly but Mickey was very awkward in the position of hanging from the dog’s neck.

After about ten minutes they both felt the power start to lessen.

Immediately Mickey shouted, “Home Chance, home boy!”

He kept repeating it as the dog followed orders.

Mickey realized something at this juncture.

While he had planned the changing direction, planned the flying part, he had never even thought about how one would land from such a flight.

With the prospect of Earth coming closer by the second, he thought he ought to start working the parameters of such an event out.

No time.

With the grace of a drunken pigeon Chance slammed into his dog house and moved it about four feet to the left.

Mickey had hit the ground and got dragged through the mud for those four feet. He had the wind knocked out of him, but was alright.

He reached over and loosed the leash.

He would let the dog run loose in the yard for a while, and he was going to have to think about this.

This called for more planning.

Now he let himself laugh.

(c) 2005 by C. Wayne Owens
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