FreeWrite: Undiscovered Talent
My goal here was to simply write 500 or so words about an incident between a teacher and a student in which the teacher learns something. Have at it:
“It’s a long way, Mr. Davis.” Meep squinted, peering across the gorge. The west wind fluttered against his eyelids, peeling them back.
“It’s a puddle.” I elbowed him in the ribs. “I could do it with my eyes closed.”
“Just give me some time to think.”
“That’s your problem, Meepers. Flying isn’t about thinking.” I sat back on my heels and pushed off the ground, springing up through the thin canopy of just-blooming oaks. Meep was wearing a red-striped turtleneck; from the distance of a hundred aerial feet he looked like a croquet peg. I tilted my wrists out to stop momentum, basking in the momentarily weightlessness before decent. I’d tried to teach dozens, but this feeling was still mine alone.
A branch slapped against my cheek right before I touched down.
“See?” I rubbed the welt on the side of my face. “No thinking. Flying is impossible, right?”
“I thought so.”
“Aha. There you go.” I grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him back to face the gorge. It was maybe fifty feet across. Sixty down to the river.
Even over the intrusion of the wild, I could hear him swallow.
He was a lanky kid. Awkward in his big sneakers. Probably grew up on superhero comics and seventies sci-fi. I could see it in his eyes, tucked behind those thick prescription lenses. He had scoured the news headlines looking for anyone special to make him better. It was up to somebody like me to carry people like Meep higher in life.
“That wind ain’t getting any lighter, kid.” I ushered toward the gorge. “Let’s do this.” I’m not going to lie; this was always the best part. Seeing their arms tight across their chest, shoulders hunched forward, asking themselves if they could be extraordinary. For me, it came easy; I just wanted it bad enough.
I wasn’t so sure about Meeper.
He was white as the peaked rapids below, but he bent his knees, getting ready. With one swing of his arms he was up and over the edge, sailing forward. I knew from the first second that he was in trouble; he had no lift, and disappeared into the gorge. I gave him three Mississippis to recover. Nothing.
The wind screamed in my ears as I swept down towards the water. I could see where he’d gone in, and I hit the surface inches from the ripple.
Before I could even get my bearings I felt something on my shoulders. Hands. I opened my eyes and tried to focus.
Meeps was smiling at me under the water, his grin stretching the gills that flopped in and out on the side of his neck. I opened my mouth and choked. Meep’s hands grabbed the back of my coat and yanked upwards. We crashed through the surface, bounding back up to the edge of the gorge.
On hands and knees I coughed. Meeps crouched down and hit my back. The paleness was gone; he looked taller.
“I just wanted you to know.” He pulled the collar of his turtleneck over the compressing blue-veined gills. “You may not be as special as you think.”
June 20th, 2008 at 10:11 am
Cool! Also, you spelled “descent” wrong.
June 20th, 2008 at 4:37 pm
Um, ya. It was a decent descent.
June 30th, 2008 at 11:16 am
you should submit this somewhere. me like.