Bedtime Story

Once, there was a little boy who could fly.

He could do this simply because he believed he could. 

He would fly everywhere. To school. To the store to buy milk for his mother. To the park to play with his friends.

One day, as he was coming in for a landing in the park, a grown-up approached him and said "People can't fly, you know. Only birds can fly."
"What do you mean?" asked the little boy, the wind still fresh under his feet.
"It isn't natural," said the grown-up. "If people were meant to fly, we'd have wings and a beak and eat worms and live in nests."
"But I can fly," said the little boy. "And I have arms and a nose and I eat cheese sandwiches and live in a house with my mom and dad."
"Like I said, you can't fly."
"But I just did. Didn't you see me?"
"But you can't. Understand? It isn't right. You should stop."

The little boy was confused. Why should he have to stop doing something he loved? He wasn't hurting anyone. He didn't tease people because they couldn't fly. After all, he thought, there were lots of things that he couldn't do. Like ride a bike without training wheels or dribble a basketball while running or make peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches without getting jelly all over the counter.

The little boy felt something itching deep in his stomach that made him start to feel sad, so he smiled at the grown-up and said "I have to go play kickball now," and he ran off to play with his friends. And soon, he forgot about the conversation he had with the grown-up. But the next day, when he flew to the park, the grown-up was there again. As soon as the little boy's big toe touched the Earth the grown-up was standing in front of him saying "You can't fly. It isn't right."

The grown-up was waiting for the boy so often that he started to walk to the park just so the grown-up would leave him alone. But then the grown-up started showing up everywhere he flew. The store. The school. And each time the grown-up would shake his head and say "You can't fly. It isn't right."

Finally, the little boy felt so guilty about flying that he started walking everywhere.

Days passed.
The Earth circled the sun again and again.
The little boy grew older.
And eventually he forgot how to fly.

Then one day, after work, the grown-up, who was once a little boy who could fly, watched as a little girl drifted down from the sky to play with her friends. Something itched deep in his stomach that made him start to feel sad. He stood up and walked over to where she had landed.

"You can't fly. It isn't right," he said.
"What do you mean?" asked the little girl, the wind still tickling her feet.
"I mean, it isn't right. You don't have wings or a beak. You don't eat worms or live in a nest."
The little girl laughed.
"That's because I'm a little girl. Not a bird."
"That's right. So you can't fly."
"But I did. I do."
"You shouldn't. It isn't natural. It isn't right."
"How do you know?" asked the little girl, her eyebrows wrinkled with curiosity.
"Because I flew once too, but a man told me that I shouldn't."
"And you stopped?"
"Yes."
"Why?"

The grown-up man, who used to be a little boy who could fly, just stared at her, the weight of that word sitting on his chest, making it hard for him to breath. "Because," he said. "Because." But no other words came out of his mouth. All he could hear was that word over and over again; Why?

The little girl patted his hand and smiled up at him. "I have to go play now," she said and skipped off.

The grown-up man, who used to be a little boy who could fly, stood there for a long time trying to answer that question.
He thought about it until the sun went down and mother's began calling their children in for supper.
He thought about it until the street lights came on and people started leaving the park.
He thought about it until the houses went dark and the people inside went to bed.

In all of his thinking he couldn't think of one good reason why he had ever stopped flying. Not one.

Then he heard the rustling of the leaves in the wind and looked up past the swaying trees to the twinkling stars. He closed his eyes and felt that itch deep in his stomach start to fade away.

Then he smiled.
Then he giggled.
Then he flew home.

THE END