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Flight
Age 4
I think I can fly. No one has told me anything different. I hold onto the rails of our stairs and leap three steps at a time. I fall, go tumbling down and smash into the concrete. I get back up and try again. I know I can fly if I can just get the timing right. My mom combs her hair into her face and puts her glasses on over it. This causes me to run and hide everytime. I'm afraid of clowns and Santa Claus and Mom when she does that but not of flying. I watch the sky for airplanes and birds for hours. I watch the clouds. I believe that will be me someday. I know I can fly.
Age 5
I think my younger brother should be the one to fly. Running out the door to check the mail I knock him off our porch. He falls 9 feet and gets up laughing. I go into hysterics. I still think maybe I can fly sometime but wonder what would happen if I tried to and fell like he did. On my birthday, I open the car door before the car stops and tumble out onto the concrete. I'm beginning to think I'm clumsy. Clumsy people shouldn't fly. I get a balloon but it escapes my grasp. I pitch a fit until they promise me another one, just to shut me up. It works. I think the car in our garage is going to come alive and eat me. My older brother tells me so and he wouldn't lie. I make him go in there with me everytime I need anything. Maybe airplanes eat people too. I begin to wonder if flying is such a good idea afterall. |
Age 7
Everytime my dad is supposed to visit, my brother plays tricks on me. I still think he won't lie and so I believe him everytime he tells me he sees the car. I go running outside. I trip and fall over my feet. A piece of plastic cuts into my leg. I can see the bone and I poke at it. Mom tells me not to. When she's not looking I poke at it again. I'm not afraid of blood.
Age 8
I get a bicycle for Christmas, but when I try to ride it, I end up in the briars. I don't try again for 3 more years. I play with transformers and matchbox cars. I still like airplanes. I make them out of Legos. Mom yells everytime she steps on the ones I leave in the floor. I climb the trees in our yard and pretend I'm a bird. I'm not afraid of anything, except for the monster in our field. My brother tells me it's there and he wouldn't lie. My dog dies but I think maybe he just flew away. My younger brother's description of the body doesn't give me much hope though. Every time I have to go to bed when I'm not ready, I think about flying. I'm in my first spelling bee. I think that there may be something I'm good at and I practice all the time. I get out on an easy word because I'm nervous in front of an auditorium full of people.
Age 9
We live with my grandmother for a year. There is no flying. She makes me wear dresses when I don't want to, but I love her anyway.
Age 11
A friend tells me, I'm the ugliest person he's ever met. I wonder what my enemies think. My self-esteem plummets. I think it's going to crash. I let people copy my homework so they know that I'm worth something. I receive 13 awards at the end of the year graduation from elementary school. I tie for the highest academic average. My mom and stepdad are proud but I don't really care. Airplanes aren't on my mind anymore. My youngest brother is born. I have three brothers now. My second brother tells his class that we named the baby M.C. Hammer. They are suitably impressed. Patrick seems like a common name compared to a name like M.C. Hammer.
Age 13
I think I've forgotten how to fly. I have no self-esteem. I don't speak. I have a few friends but I think they just feel sorry for me. I get lost in books instead. I watch Star Wars over and over. If I can't fly, I can watch people who can. I'm in love with Han Solo and Luke Skywalker. I think I'm ugly. My older brother tells me so and he wouldn't lie. I cry but only when I know he isn't paying attention. I tell him I think he's uglier and he has a big nose. I go to my two-year-old brother for comfort. He loves me. He thinks he can fly. I remember when that was me.