(no subject)

[seymoure]

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