by Bad Wolf
A boy's supernatural power
The boy pretended not to hear. He knew what his mother wanted. He was not going to do what she wanted. Even if he was grounded for a year, he did not care.
"Myron, you listen to your mother and answer her when she calls you."
His father's voice came from where his mother's voice came from.
He looked up at his parents. He watched as his parents floated down from the sky, hovering inches over his head.
"There is nothing to be afraid of, son," his father said with reason. "You do not even have to flap your arms."
Myron nervously pushed on his black framed glasses, which seemed to be constantly sliding down his nose. "B.. b.. but I am scared," Myron stuttered. "I am afraid of heights," he said running his fingers through his greasy black hair.
"You will be the shame of us," Myron's mother wailed. "Everyone in the family can fly! Even Nanny, though she is eighty years old, has no problem soaring around. She says flying beats walking any day. Myron! How many times have I told you to use a handkerchief?" she asked in dismay as her son wiped his dribbling nose on the sleeve of his plaid shirt.
"I am sorry Ma." Myron said as he pulled his pants higher.
"Must you always pull your pants up so high? They do not have to be up to your ribs! The other kids your age do not wear clothes like you do."
"I'm sorry ma," Myron said, as he tucked his plaid shirt into his pants.
"Oh! I give up, Myron's mother said and walked away. His father, without saying a word walked away too.
"What am I doing to do with that boy?" Myron's mother asked his father as they walked back to the house. "I know he can fly! He used to when he was a baby. I always had a hard time making his stay in the crib."
"Give his some time," his father said. "Maybe a little camping trip to the mountains will help.
"There we go," Myron's father said as he pulled the small boat onto the shore of the lake.
"You did good son. We caught enough fish for three days."
"I will start the fire," his mother said. "Myron, why don't you walk around while we cook? Maybe we can explore more later; probably go mountain climbing." Myron shuddered at this. Because of his fear of heights, his parents decided to camp at the base of the mountains.
He decided to walk in the woods for a while. Stopping to rest under a pine tree, Myron looked around. He could no longer see the campsite. He sat down and leaned his back against the tree. Maybe a short nap before he headed back would do him good.
A snort sounded to his left. Myron opened his eyes and looked around. There was another snort, this time to his left. Myron jumped up when he saw two grizzly bears walking stealthily towards him.
"Mom! Pa!" he yelled. "Help me." His parents didn't answer him.
The bears were coming closer. He tries to scramble up the tree. However, the lowest branches were too far above his head. Besides, the bears would follow him up the tree.
"What am I going to do?" Myron whimpered. The bears were almost upon him. He did the only thing that he was reluctant to do. He leapt up into the air and hovered over the bears' heads. He flew higher and watched as the bears slowly disappeared into the trees.
"Are you alright son?" his father appeared next to Myron.
"We heard you yelling," his mother came next. "I was afraid that we were too late! Myron you are flying!"
"I am, aren't I?" Myron asked. "Hey this is neat!"
"Why don't you fly around for a while," his mother suggested, "while we finish cooking the fish? Just be back in an hour."
As they descended to the ground, Myron's mother started to laugh. "Well I don't think Myron will be afraid to fly any longer."
"I agree," his father said.
"That was a good idea to get those bear costumes. He actually thought that we were real bears," she laughed even harder.
"Just make sure that we burn them before Myron returns."
"This is amazing!" Myron yelled out as he flew higher and higher. His parents were so far below him that they appeared to be as small as ants.
A eagle flew up to Myron, curious about the strange bird the did not flap its wings. Thy flew about chasing each other. Once in a while, he would stop to adjust his glasses or pull his pants up higher.
Soon Myron was above the mountain peaks. He, the one who was afraid of heights, was no longer scared.
Then he grinned a grim of mischief. He remembered the bullies in the schoolyard. The ones who stole his lunch money and the ones who always threw him into the garbage dumpster, he would get revenge. He could fly over their heads and taunt them and even throw garbage on them.
Myron took one more pass over the mountains before returning to the camp.
"Make way for Myron, The Flying Nerd!" he yelled as he flew.