The weather was crisp and clear with strong gusts of wind blowing eastward. Linda wondered why, if all the weather swept in from the West, did the wind so often blow east? The air must be folding back on itself when two fronts with different air pressures collide and start to merge. Kind of like our town, she thought, one world merging with the next. She felt in her heart a new life trying to take her over. She had to push back, her life was her own. Heaven wasn’t supposed to replace what is important, it was supposed to provide an eternal home where the good parts of our lives can keep shining forever. Heaven is about becoming, not leaving.
Her son Casey had a soccer game today. He was six years-old, the age when most of the kids converge on the ball all at once instead of spreading out and passing. His dad wouldn’t make it to the game. He wouldn’t get out of the hospital for another couple of days. She hadn’t told him why he was there, that he’d nearly assaulted a man and disobeyed the lawful order of a police officer. Casey had seen it, but she didn’t want him to put two and two together and start thinking his dad was a criminal like one of the bad guys on a television show. When he had asked if his dad had gotten hurt, Linda answered that he was getting help with his head. She hadn’t wanted to lie.
The children took the field and after the whistle commenced attacking the ball like a hungry school of fish. Casey put a foot on it but then it was gone, swarmed by twenty other players. The game went like this for a majority of the first half, until the opposing team scored the first goal. After the kick-off something changed, the game became more fluid. Players were passing, spreading out, their ball handling skills improving instantaneously. Casey got the ball and took off up the outside line. It was like he understood the game all of a sudden, as if the field and ball were part of him. He struck a perfect cross to his teammates, one of whom headed the ball just inside the far post. The crowd of parents went crazy shouting encouragement and praise. They hadn’t seen skill like this except at the highest levels of the game.
Now all the players were spread out, passing, utilizing their positions, playing the game as it was meant to be played. No one seemed to be thinking about it, the sport simply came naturally to them. Teammates were cooperating, setting up shots on goal almost as well as the professionals. The parents were in shock. Their children had become soccer prodigies in the span of a minute. The second half was one of the most thrilling displays of athletic skill they had ever witnessed. At the very end of the game, just before the final whistle, Casey played a give n’ go to another forward who chipped it back over to him. He brought one knee up and jumped, rotating backwards as he kicked his other leg over his head and struck the ball hard, sending it in a straight path toward the goal. The ball hit the crossbar and bounced off. The opposing team cleared it away, then the ref blew the whistle. Casey’s team had lost eight to six. He was upset about it on the ride home.
“If it’s any consolation, that was the most amazing soccer game I’ve seen in my entire life,” said Linda.
Raymond McRae was still too scared to fly, even though he possessed the power to do so. It felt wrong, like God would smite him for his boldness if he were to separate his feet from the ground. He considered himself the last person who deserved such a gift and had no idea why God was allowing it. He remembered hearing a Bible verse about people not wasting their talents. If God gives you an ability or resource you aren’t supposed to hide it, you’re supposed to use the gift to glorify Him and His kingdom. What was Ray supposed to do, fly around fighting crime and saving people’s lives? As far as he knew there was no crime in Weatherview and the people were pretty safe. Ray had heard about other people who had defied gravity, but those were isolated incidents. As far as he knew he was the only one who retained the power. I have to go for it, he thought.
He walked into his backyard and stood in the middle of the grass, bent his knees, and took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” he said, blasting into the air with a great whoosh that shook the nearby tree limbs. Almost immediately after takeoff a bolt of lightning from the clear blue sky struck him, sending him back down to the ground.
“Ow,” he said.
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