Marty the Magnificent Madman

Everyone in the eighth grade was out by the swimming-pool commenting on Marty's multicolored shirt. Everyone including the birthday girl, Mary-Sue Gallagher. Even Mary-Sue thought Marty was a show-off. He wasn't.

He was a dare-devil.

Marty walked up the long driveway past the pool where he collected a dozen helium balloons. He noted that in front of the pool the driveway veered sharply to the right. It was treacherous; even awe inspiring.

At the garage Marty attached the balloons to Mary-Sue's old wagon. He tested the steering lever. All was perfect.

He waved to Chuck, who called, “Watch this!”

Soon Marty's classmates were lined up, peering through the wrought-iron fence.

It was a long ways down.

Marty decided a good dare-devil doesn't sit in a wagon while blazing down a hill, a good dare-devil stands. And down he rolled, standing. Instantly everything went wrong. The balloons flew around. One caught his left ear, another the right, and then more snagged and covered his entire face. Blinded, he knew by the cheering voices he was approaching what Sports Center would've called The Widow-Maker. He leaned left. Then the cheering faded behind him.

He realized now that slowing down would be impossible. What a way to die, with a bunch of balloons wrapped around his head, and his whole class watching. He now agreed, he was nothing but a show-off who wore ridiculous shirts.

With a crashing bang he came against what felt exactly like a brick wall.

The popping balloons acted like airbags and not only was he unhurt, he was somehow still standing. Mary-Sue led her cheering, wide-eyed classmates down the hill. With the spent balloons like a Laurel wreath around his ears, Marty did what dare-devils do; he bent Mary-Sue Gallagher backwards and kissed her hard on the mouth.

300 Words-
Flash Fiction Contest using the words balloon, wagon, perfect