“That was great!” shouted Michael, “Perfect   landing.”  He looked over at his friend.  “I’m going to fly one. . . one day.” 

“Yeah, if you don’t break your neck first,” said Victor. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” replied Michael. 

Victor got on his bike.  “C’mon, let’s go.” 

Michael and Victor pedaled back home.  It was only a few blocks from the airport.  They threw their bikes down on the driveway. 

“This is it!” Michael pulled the sheet off.  “We’ll have to put it up, into that tree over there.” 

“It looks like a cardboard box to me,” replied  Victor. 

Michael looked down at his homemade plane.  “Well part of it is.  I needed a body big enough to hold me.” 

“But will it fly?” 

Michael saw that Victor was nervous.  “Yes. . . well it should.  The wings are kites and the landing gear is from my wagon.” 

“I don’t know about this. . .”  

“Do you want to help or not?”  Michael was already pulling out the ladder. 

It took some effort, but the two boys got the cardboard plane in the tree.   

Michael was all ready.  Victor was down below, reading off the checklist. 

“Controls,” shouted Victor. 

“All clear!” replied Michael. 

“Straps?” 

“Secure!” Michael leaned forward a. . . Whooooshhhh!  The plane did a kind of summersault, floated a few feet, and then. . . 

Crash! 

“Are you ok?” It wasn’t Victor that Michael saw standing over him.  It was Victor’s dad.

“I’m fine, Sir.” Michael got up and brushed himself off. 

“Ok, but don’t try that again,” Victor’s dad stated firmly.

“Yes, Sir,” Michael said. 

Victor’s dad turned and walked away.  “Come on Victor.  Time to go home.” 

Michael waved goodbye as Victor left with his dad. Slowly, Michael picked up the pieces of his plane. 

A few days later, Michael was at it again.  He used his money from mowing lawns and bought a few model plane kits, along with a glider kit.   

He wasn’t going to let falling out of a tree stop him.  

A week later, the plane was ready.  He gathered up the neighborhood kids to make his announcement. 

“I’ve asked you all here,” clearing his throat, Michael said, “to witness my takeoff debut.”   

Everyone laughed.  

 “I have built a bigger and better plane. As you can all see.”  Michael pulled the sheet away, revealing a very small glider plane.  Except this one had a prop and part of a bike fame.  A few bits and pieces from the model kits made up the controls. 

“Where do you plan to take off from?” someone shouted. 

“From the street,” replied Michael. 

“Do you really think. . . you’re going to fly?” asked the kid from next door. 

“Yes!” replied Michael.  At least he hoped the plane would.  

Everyone gathered around and pushed the plane out onto the street.  Michael turned the prop.  It started to turn and then, stopped.   

Michael gave it another hard turn.  It started! 

He jumped inside the plane.  He shouted out the pre-takeoff checklist. 

 “Controls. . . free and clear, straps. . . secure, flaps. . . check, landing gear. . . check.”  Michael looked over his shoulder.  “Stand back!” he shouted. 

Michael started to pedal as fast as he could.  The plane started to bounce up and down a little.   Michael pulled up on the yoke.  The plane started to rise.  Then it bounced again.  He pulled harder, slowly the plane rose.  He felt the plane glide.  

Michael closed his eyes.  This must be a dream, he thought. 

When Michael opened his eyes. . . he saw the blue sky all around.  Until he looked up. . . and saw the ground.  He was flying upside down.   

Michael tried to flip the plane back over.  But it just did a loop-da-loop. “Oh no!”  Michael pulled harder.  The plane flew out of control. 

“Mayday!” It was too late.  

“Michael, are you ok?” shouted Victor.  Michael saw him running. 

 “Yeah, I’m alright. . . I think.”  Michael blinked his eyes. “Can you help me out?”  

The plane had smashed into a big light pole.   Michael, with the help of Victor, pulled himself free. 

“You were lucky,” said Victor. 

Michael smiled wearily.  “Maybe I need to practice flying upside down. . . before I try again.” 

Victor shook his head.  “Michael, you’re crazy. . . you know that?” 

“One day. . . I’ll fly like the birds.” replied Michael.

The End

First published at Fandangle magazine July 2006