Wings To Fly

            “Grant, stop it. Get down from there!”

            “No mommy, I want to fly!”

            Grant Dage, arms held straight out on both sides, was standing on the room of the Dage family’s three-story house. And attached to his arms, were pillows, which had feathers, like a bird he had thought, and birds can fly all day.

            “Mommy, are you watching?” Grant called, excited. He wanted everyone to watch his greatest triumph but she would do.

            “Grant! Grant Leonard Dage, you get down here RIGHT NOW!” his mother shrieked. She stood dancing nervously, unsure of whether to try and talk him down or run up to grab him.

            “Mommy, what’s wrong?” Julie asked from the back door.

            “Julie! Julie, come watch me! Come watch me with mommy!” Grant called, jumping up and down in his excitement.

            “DON’T MOVE!” his mother screamed at him, pointing and giving him a glare she knew he could see, even if he was three stories up in the air. Grant managed to get his footing but nearly fell and her heart sank in her chest. Why does he do this? Why does he ALWAYS do this? Pour his cereal in the washer, put dog crap in my shoes, rub ketchup all over the banister, squeeze an entire tube of toothpaste all over my bathroom. WHY DOES HE ALWAYS DO THIS?

            “Mommy, is Grant okay?” Julie asked, running into he yard to look at her big brother.

            “Julie, are you watching?” Grant called again, waiting for his moment.

            “Julie, get in the house!” she shouted, bolting ahead of her. Just get him down she thought over and over to herself, circling the stairway and running as fast as she could. She could hear his laughter get louder and louder as she ran, circling the second set of stairs, seeing him out the window down the hall. She ran and slid down the hallway, hitting her head on the windowsill and falling over. She lay there for a moment, holding her head in her hand. Then she heard a horrible crash and Julie started screaming.