When Michael Learned to Fly

I met Michael LaRoos when he moved up to Pilot Knob after his mother and father were killed in a horrific traffic accident on the Long Island Freeway.  He had come to live with his Grandpa Keller who owned one hundred acres north of our home.  He was twelve, the same age as I was when he came to the eastern shore of Lake George.  

Named for the King of England before the Revolution, my father boldly claimed the lake was named for him whenever the out-of-towners walked into his store.  Who was I to doubt him since  he owned the local Bounty General Store overlooking the boat launches and docks on the lake.  

During summer, he did not have time to sneeze as the store was flocked with tourists from the big city looking to get away from the crowds.  Instead of the big city, they were left to contend with all the other tourists with the same idea.  

From the first, Michael LaRoos was a quiet and unusual kid who would rather read than ride his bike all around the most scenic part of New York State there was.  

“Hi, my name is Chris Bounty.” I introduced myself as he was reading in his grandpa’s porch swing.

“I’m Michael LaRoos.” He said without looking up from his book.

“Whatcha readin’?” I asked hoping to make a connection.  Though scenic, Pilot’s Knob could be a bit boring at times.

“Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson.” He answered again without looking up at me. 

“Is it any good?” I asked.

This time he looked up at me, but from his expression, I could tell he did not think very highly of me, "It's about pirates.”

“I like pirates.  Me and my friends go up to Point Comfort and play pirates sometimes.  They got some old boats up there that folks have just left there.  You wanna go?” I urged him, but he just nodded and continued to read.  

“Perhaps after I finished my book.” He sighed, “Where is it?”

“Just up past Camp Chingachgook.” I pointed.  

He turned his head and his eyes followed my finger, “It is pretty up here.”

“I’ve lived here all my life.” I puffed out my chest.

“Your dad owns the general store, right?” His voice was flat, emotionless.

“Sure does.  You wanna go there and meet him?” I asked.

“Not right now.” He yawned, “maybe later.” 

“Yeah, later.” He nodded, but he was back to reading his book.

I rode my bike to my dad’s store.  He and mom were stocking the shelves since it was early season and lake water was just barely above freezing.  

“Chris, can you get a couple of cases of beans?” My mom asked as she wiped her hands on her apron.

“Sure.” I nodded and went back to the back store room where Dolly, my sister, was counting some apples that had just come in. At seven years old with big blue eyes and white blonde hair, she had decided she knew everything and was years more mature than I was.

“Chris, could you carry these baskets of apples up front?” She looked at me as if I was seasonal help, hired just this morning.

“Mom wants me to bring up some beans.” I snatched the cases she had asked for.

“Alright, but come right back for the apples.” She ordered. 

Pilot’s Knob Elementary School was where all the kids went to school until grade six.  I could not wait until next year when I would be in eighth grade, but I still had another month of seventh grade before I could breath the rarified air of the eighth grade wing of the school.  Sitting nestled on a landing in the hills was the Pilot’s Knob High School, home of the Warriors.  During football season they would let out an Indian war whoop when they came running on the field.  I told my dad, I wanted to be on the team when I got to high school.  He would always laugh and tell me I had to grow a few more inches and put on a few more pounds. I was small for my age, but I had a feeling one day I would be big enough to join the team no matter what anyone said.   

Mrs. Walton was our teacher even though we would go to three other teachers for Mathematics, Science, History and English during the day.  It did not take very long for the eighth grade bullies to find Michael who was even smaller than I was.  He had a funny way of talking and Mrs. Allison would come take him out of class for about an hour for speech therapy.  

“One day I’m gonna fly away from this place.” He grumbled as I helped him to his feet after a couple of the bigger boys from the farms in the area had knocked him to the floor where his books lay near where he had landed.

“Hope ya had a nice trip.” Lee Maddox laughed as he watched Michael pick up his books and binder from the floor. 

“You talk funny, ya know.” His brother Broderick added as they went cruising down the hall.

“Stay clear of the Maddox twins.” I warned him as I helped him collect his books. “They’re just a couple of rubes.” 

Mrs. Walton took an instant shine to Michael since he liked to read and was impressed with the variety of books that Michael read.  I, on the other hand, only read comic books or graphic novels as I was taught to call them.  He had also confessed to her how he missed his mom and dad and she told him he could come to her whenever he was feeling sad.  Everyone knew Mrs. Walton was engaged to a man who got killed in Vietnam.  It was just something we all knew, but kept it to ourselves. 

“One day I’d like to fly.” He told her.

“In a plane?” She smiled at him.

“Nope, all by myself.” He nodded.

“Michael, people can’t fly.” She shook her head.

“Most people.” He allowed himself the luxury of a laugh.

Since we walked home together, he would tell me about how birds take flight because of their wings and hollow bones.  We would sometimes stop just so he could watch them flutter their wings and take flight from the branches where they had perched. 

“I’m happy keeping my feet on the ground.” I would tell him.

“Most people are, but not me.” His head would loll as if it was not fully attached sometimes.

“So how’s that new boy, Michael LaRoos?” My mom asked me at dinner.

“He’s alright.” I shrugged.

“I heard he was a bit weird.” Dolly added as she already knew, “My friend Pricella told me he talks funny.” 

“Mrs. Allison comes to see him.” I said quickly.

“Some people have trouble doing things we take for granted.” Mom said before putting a forkful of dinner in her mouth.  Dad was going to be late since he was getting ready for the tourist season that was just two weeks away.

After dinner, I went riding with Chester and his brother Drake.  As we passed the Keller farm, we saw Michael out on the pump handle, balanced on one foot and moving his arms like they were wings.

“Ach, there’s that weirdo, Michael.” Chester pointed at him.

“He’s acting all like he’d gonna fly.” Drake cackled. 

“He’s alright.” I defended him not really knowing why since Michael had not done a single thing to earn my trust.

“That old handle still moves, don’t it?” Chester grinned and his evil grin told me something bad was about to happen.  Even though Chester was not a full fledged bully, he had certain tendencies that said he may not be one, but he certainly knew the Zip Code.  Quietly, he put his kick stand down and crept through the trees to near where Michael was perched precariously on the iron pump handle. Picking up a small rock, Chester heaved it striking the metal and once struck, the handle moved and Michael fell hard to the ground.  I could hear him groan “Ooooffff!” as he landed on his back forcing all the air out of his lungs.  Before he could get to his feet, Chester was back on his bicycle and we were on our way to Comfort point.

The next day at school, Michael walked with a noticeable limp.

“Michael, are you alright?” Mrs. Walton asked concerned about his condition.

“I fell, Mrs. Walton, but I’ll be alright.” His voice was gravely and forced.  

I wanted to say I was sorry, but this was not my doing.  I was innocent. 

When I got home, I found out Mr. Keller had stopped by to question my mother about what happened to Michael the previous evening.

“He did go out with two of his friends, but I don’t think he did that.” She told him as he nodded his head.

“I just wanted to make sure.” He removed his straw hat revealing his thinning white hair. “Things have been pretty rough since Ethand and Joan passed.”

“Ethan and Joan?” Mom tilted her head.

“My son-in-law and my daughter.” He bowed his head. “It’s been pretty hard on him.  Hard enough for me, but I really think it damaged his heart.”

“I am so sorry.” Mom said, reaching out to touch his wizened hand.

“Me too.” There were tears coming from his invisible blue eyes. “She was my only child.” 

As he walked away, my mother took a kleenex to wipe the tears from her eyes. 

“I flew last night.” Micheal informed me on the last day of school. 

“You did what?” I could not believe what he was telling me. “How?”

“I caught a nice updraft and opened my arms.  I was wearing my hoodie.” He smiled.

“What about gravity?” I asked.

“What about it?” He continued to smile.  We were in the lunchroom and the Maddox twins were hovering close, trying to catch a snippet of what we were saying.

“Gravity keeps our feet on the ground.” I shrugged.

“Not when you weigh under a hundred pounds.” He winked.

“Are you queer?” Chester was over at our table in a flash after the wink.

“No…not at all.” Michael managed to answer when Chester hoisted him from his seat by his lapels, nearly ripping his shirt in the process. 

“We ain’t got no queers here, do you understand?” Lee glanced over at his brother who was on his feet and headed over to our table. The quick punch to his gut doubled Michael over and he began to gag on his lunch as it tried to make its way up instead of down where it belonged.  Falling to his knees, Michael was still gasping as he threw up on the floor.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” I was on my feet. 

Lee snarled at me, but it was Broderick who hit me square in the jaw, shouting, “Are you queer, too!”

Blood seemed to be coming from every opening in my face, but especially my mouth.

Mr. Cooper had us both by the collars.  As the lunch monitor and ex-marine, Mr. Cooper was a hulking presence hired to discourage such acts of violence in the lunchroom.  

“I didn’t do anything.” I pleaded as he drug me down to the principal’s office.  

“So what happened?” My dad asked as I sat in Mr. Osborne’s principal’s office.

“Appears Mr. Bounty there was an altercation in the lunchroom.” Mr. Cooper interjected.

“Sorry sir, but I was asking my son.” My father had a way of dealing with things that many figures of authority did not care for.

“Broderick Maddox hit me in the mouth.” I rubbed my swollen jaw. 

“So why are you here?” He put his large hands on his hips.

“Because he was involved in the altercation.” Mr. Osborne glanced at his lunch monitor who had his arms folded over his bulging chest.

“No, he was hit by another student.” My father replied with a sharp edge to his voice.

When I got home, I decided to walk up the path to Mr. Keller’s place.

“He ain’t here.” Mr. Keller was walking out of the barn with two pails sloshing with milk.

“Where is he, Mr. Keller?” I asked.

“Done what he does the past few nights.” He put the buckets down on the porch and then pointed toward the sky.  My eyes followed his finger.

Plastered against the gray sky as the darkness of the night was about to take over, there was a shadow of someone dipping and drifting on the darkening sky. 

Impossible.  Impossible was the first through that came to my mind.

“I don’t know…why or how, but he’s been up there the past few nights.” Mr. Keller told me rubbing his chin, “I know most of it is due to that sadness he came here with, but the rest…the rest I just don’t know.” 

It was truly incredible to watch as Michael was joined by other birds who had taken to the air in flight.  In the twilight, Michael LaRoos was flying without the aid of wings or any of characteristics of phylum chordata or class aves.  

“It don’t seem right.  It’s unnatural.” Mr. Keller was now rubbing his neck, “I’m always afraid gravity will suddenly remember and he will come to earth like Ikrus in his melted wax wings.” 

It didn’t happen.  He stayed aloft for quite some time.

I wondered what he was hearing as the wind blew into his ears.

I wondered what he was seeing as the light leaked from the sky.

I wondered what he was feeling as he soared, defying gravity and all of the forces that ruled the rest of us.  Forces that kept us all with our feet on the ground.  

“Where have you been?” Dad asked as he pulled the car into the carport.

“Here and there.” I shrugged.

“Oh year, I needed you down at the store.” He sounded angry as he emerged from the car.

“I’ll be there tomorrow.” I promised.

“Better be.  I need you to help us out.  Tourists are already here.  Flocked in this morning and with this unseasonably high weather, they will all be in that lake before June.” He shook his head.

“Be there, dad.” I promised as I put my bicycle in the shed out back.  As I locked the door, I watched Michael land without a hitch.

Dad was right by June Lake George was filled with tourists.  All the lakeside concessions were open and running at capacity.  Dad set up a small tent where he sold cold drinks, both alcoholic and non from a cooler that ran on a generator.  We also ran the ice machine with crushed ice drinks.

“Here there queer boy.” It was Lee and his twin both grinning like the cat that ate the canary. 

“Don’t call me that.” I grumbled as I handed them a soda each.

“We don’t drink this crap.” Lee slammed the can on the counter. “We need beer.”

“Yeah.” Broderick sounded like an echo.

“You need to show an ID.” I sighed.

“No turd-face, we don’t have to show you nothing.” Lee jabbed his finger into my chest.

“No ID, no beer.” I knew I was headed for some of their guff which included some physical reaction.  

Broderick had great aim as his fist met my jaw just like the last time.  I landed in the soft warm sand, but my jaw was aching from the blow.

“Get before I call the law.” I wiped the blood off my chin with my hand.

“Law don’t scare us, punk.” Lee threw his head back and laughed. “Hey Brod, get us a beer.  On the house.  Don’t feel like paying.”

There was a shadow that appeared on the top of the canvas. 

“Looky here Lee. his lover appeared right out of thin air.” Broderick had two beers in his hands.

Craning his neck, Lee looked up just in time to receive a kick to his face.

“Owwww.” He wailed as the second foot made contact with his forehead.

“Hey!” Broderick shouted just as a metal bar made solid contact with his head.  Such a wicked blow had knocked him out on contact.  He lay in the sand like a sleeping baby.  

Before I could register what had happened, I felt someone’s arms around my abdomen and before Lee could retaliate, I was being taken skyward.

“What the---” Was all I could hear Lee say as I saw the blues of blue water appear under my feet.  The boats in the water appeared as toys bobbing in a bathtub.

“I am tired of those two.” It was Micheal and he was flying.

“Me, too.” I felt safe for the first time in a very long while.