"You can't take her up in this wind man! It's insanity!" Papa Scrum shouted
"I can and I will" I answered, my voice eerily calm. The wind blew past what was left of my once magnificent hair, glazing my already perspiring forehead.
"Listen to him!" She wasn't built for this!" Larry Geographic added.
"I listen to nothing but my heart and my heart says that we must fly!"
"You know it's suicide. You know this to be true, don't you? She'll never get off the ground. That'll be on your conscious." Papa Scrum said, resigned to the fact that he couldn't change destiny or challenge my awesomeness.
"The children, Hossman. Remember the children." Geographic said.
"Aye, I will remember the children and that's why I must do this." I would not be dissuaded.
"This is MADNESS" Papa Scrum screamed.
(wait for it..........)
"THIS! IS! KANSAS!"
(and there are the goosebumps.)
We all stood fast, neither giving any ground. The wind picked up, howling it's challenge. A challenge that I could not ignore. Off I went, taking nothing with me but my determination and my 75 cent Walmart kite.
Behind me came 8 children because sometimes only a child can believe in a dream.
The wind screamed louder, protesting creation itself. It cursed, it heaved, it bellowed from it's very soul as we marched toward the field. Little woodland creatures flew by, caught by the mighty onslaught of nature, slamming them into some of the children--my personal guard, my minions.
We scratched and we crawled our way, protecting the 75 cent kite with every fiber of our being. It would fly, oh yes, it would fly. We had to believe that. We had to believe that even though it wasn't bigger than a piece of paper and no where near as sturdy, it would sore into the face of God himself. Yes, we believed. We believed in unicorns and leprechauns and pots of gold at the end of rainbows. And we believed that this kite would fly. We had to believe because sometimes there is nothing else.
By shear force of will we reached the middle of the field and I took out our kite. The minions gathered around, their steely gaze not betraying the fear that must be quaking their hearts at this very moment. Yes, it would most certainly fly.
It would fly because it is a Kite and in Kansas it can get very, very windy. And that's what kites do in wind, they soar like Mercury. Beautiful, majestic, godlike.
"It doesn't have the surface area to handle this wind!" I heard Papa Scrum shouts, just barely audible over the torrent of air rushing past my tanned and beautiful scalp.
"It's not rocket science!" I yelled back. It's a kite for Pete's sake. Seriously, a kite. What else is it going to do?
The minions and I ignored them, Papa Scrum and Geographic, as they watched on. Very well, let them be witness to greatness. Let them record what will power alone can do. Let them see us conquer Nature herself!
We began to unfurl the kite, the excitement was as thick as cream cheese on a day old bagel. Hands groped and pulled, unwinding the string that could be no stronger than dental floss. The string grew and so did our legend. One had the tail of the kite, another the kite itself, ready to unleash hell on my signal.
I looked at them. I looked at everyone of my minions and I swelled with pride. We so kick ass. We would do more than fly here today. We would become immortal.
"Now!" I screamed with fury and delight, almost crazed and manic in the moment.
Immediately the kite was thrown in the air and I pulled back on the string. I was almost lifted off my feet as the air caught the kite. The minions stepped back, not knowing what to expect.
Yes! Yes! The 75 cent kite that I bought at Walmart was starting to gain altitude! Yes!
But it was a difficult assent. 3 feet up and it started to go one way. I tried to correct it but then like a rabid bull it changed directions and went another way. But higher it went still. 4 feet. 5 feet. 6 feet!
Then it started to spin. It started to spin in a circle, faster and faster until I was sure it was going to open a dimension into Hades itself. I pulled the string harder, I stepped back, I started to run with it.
It spun one more time and then hit one of the minions in the head.
"Again! Again I say!" We threw it again.
This time it came crashing down and wrapped itself around the neck of a different minion.
We tried again and failed. We tried after that and failed. We tried even more and it failed even more.
Aye, kite flying is not rocket science. It appears to be more aerospace engineering.
"Why! What have I done to displease the gods?!" I cried. In my fury, in my shame, I had neglected to keep watch on the minions. Minions are fickle creatures, waiting for one moment of weakness to pounce.
They had gone ferrel.
Like a bunch of shrieking cats they jumped on me. They grabbed for me and the kite.
"You have to run with it, let me show you!"
"No! You have to throw it higher!"
"Out of the way, it's my turn!"
I had failed them and they knew it. And I knew that there would be no pity from them. They wanted the kite and my soul.
The fall is never pretty, it is never easy. Glorious heights that were once reached now grow further and further away as you plummet, as I plummeted that day. What I did next, I had no choice.
I abandoned them.
I threw the kite at them and ran, ran against the wind, against history, against my destiny.
I chanced a look over my shoulder as I reached the safety of Papa Scrum and Geographic. My face ashen with panic and self doubt. Tears that would have rolled down my face were blown aside before they even had a chance to form. It was done. I was done.
"Told ya. To windy to fly such a small kite."