A First Attempt at Flying

On the outskirts of the subdivision, beyond the skeletal construction sites, in the middle of a wasteland of rutted dirt, was Skill Hill. It was part of a ditch, a chasm that cut a circle at least 20 feet deep out of the earth. It plummeted down from the wasteland, bottomed out in a murky stream dotted with shrubs well fed by the sewage, and rose again into an island cut off from the rest of the land by the ditch itself.

But Skill Hill was only a piece of that ditch. It was a concrete wall that kept the earth from collapsing beneath gravity. It was a smooth rectangle of white cement slapped onto the rain-beaten terrain. It was a 20 foot descent, 30 feet wide, that was perfect for a bicycle.

Only the neighborhood’s bravest kids ventured there to force their bicycles’ thin wheels down the wall. With the wind rushing on their teeth, they would pedal as hard as they could. Furiously increasing down the cement, their speeds would top out just as their bikes reached the dark drainage’s closest laps. It was there, right at the water’s edge, with a sudden pull of the handlebars, that the bikes were supposed to screech their terror, their pleasure, whatever it was that happened at the bottom of Skill Hill, and if the kids had done what they needed to do, if they could look back over their shoulders and see that a beautiful, black skid marked the cement so close to the water that tiny waves would wash across it, then they had conquered the hill. Grinning triumphantly, they could sit beside the water and stare at the little island that was cut off from the rest of the earth.

Otherwise, if there were any hesitation, if even for a moment the idea of skidding at that speed was too frightening, the bike would stay silent. With a wide arcing swoop, the downward momentum would carry the kids back to where they had come from. Without them having to pump their pedals even once, Skill Hill would spew them from its depths.

* * * * * * * * * *

Earlier that day, the brothers had planned to ride around on the streets near their home, but the summer’s heat and humidity had driven everybody to the pools, leaving the subdivision’s streets empty. The two elder boys, leading the way, riding without using their hands, were talking to each other. Carey was staring at a bird when he heard them mention Skill Hill.

Now, as the three of them swung their freewheeling pedals and swerved their front tires, the skids stole their gazes. From the top of the hill to the bottom, the dark marks increased from the kids who had ventured deeper and deeper into the depths. Some of the skids were only timidly short, smeared stains. Others were the picture-perfect remnant of a kid who had attempted the hill.

Two of the marks were made by the two oldest brothers. Carey hadn’t yet watched his front tire dip off of the earth.

Burning between cotton-white puffs of clouds, the sun scorched their three throats parched even in the moist summer. The light and the heat separated the water from the sewage. It pulled the liquid out from between the shrubs – the only life in that desolation outside the subdivision – and left the drops evaporated in the air. The humidity stuck to the brothers’ skin, and even though it condensed in their lungs, it didn’t water the earth. The dust, crossed and marked by kids who had pedaled through the fall’s mud, was reddish brown and motionless around the three brothers who were all wearing tee shirts and shorts and all staring at the descent.

Being the oldest, Gabe was the first to break the silence. He kicked the kickstand on his blue BMX Racer. The bike tilted to its side, and he set his feet on the ground. “We shouldn’t even be here,” he panted into the humidity.

Seth was pedaling backwards and forwards as his red Diamondback wobbled beneath his attempts to keep it balanced. At Gabe’s words, he thrust his own kickstand into the earth. He glared at the brother who was barely one year older than him. “Well, Carey said he wanted to try it.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Didn’t you, Carey?”

Startled, Carey glanced up from the ditch. Both of his brothers were staring at him. The little boy couldn’t do anything more than blink at the identical faces wearing different expressions on their different colorings. When his mouth moved and no sound came out, he swallowed to try to stick some saliva together. Staring at Seth, he stuttered, “Yeah… Yeah, I did.” Then, he glanced at Gabe and went back to looking down the ditch.

Sighing, Gabe said, “Well, if I let you guys come all the way out here, then I guess I have to let Carey try it.”

“Oh come on, Gabe” Seth whined, “Nobody put you in charge. You didn’t ‘let’ us come here.”

“Yeah, I know, but you know Mom and Dad would flip if they knew you came out here with him, and if I’m here too…” he ended by shaking his head.

“It’s all right, Gabe,” Carey whispered, “I wanted to come.”

Leaning over his handlebars, Gabe looked past Seth at Carey. Carey was too young to break the same sweat that the heat and exertion brought out on his older brothers. He was simply leaning forward, resting his chin on the checkered pad softening the crossbar between the handles.

“Yeah, this is definitely a mistake,” Gabe said, almost to himself.

But Seth heard him, and he spat, “Jesus, Gabe. It’s not like we didn’t do it.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t not allowed, and you just did it anyway.”

Shaking his head, Seth laughed, “So you can go down Skill Hill just cuz Mom and Dad never said you weren’t allowed?”

With his toe, Gabe picked at a pebble wedged into the dirt. The tiny rock popped out of the ground. He frowned and said, “Yeah, but as soon as I told them about it, none of us were allowed.”

“And so Gabe’s allowed to do things that we’re not?” Seth mocked.

Gabe ground his teeth. Kicking the pebble into the ditch, he reminded his brother, “You did it too.”

“Yeah, but I got grounded as soon as Mom and Dad found out where I’d been.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have told them.”

“Did you want me to lie when I came home after dark?”

“So, what, you wanna get Carey in trouble too?”

“Nobody’s getting in trouble, Gabe. If he wants to try it, then you gotta watch him. We gotta be here to prove our little brother went down Skill Hill. At least, I know I wanna be here. Right, Carey?”

Picking his chin up from his crossbar, Carey answered, “Sure,” but he added, “Don’t worry, Gabe, I can do it.”

“Whether you can do it or not doesn’t matter. Mom and Dad say we’re not even allowed to be here. That means that if anything happens, even if we’re just not home on time, then we’re all gonna get in trouble. That means you too, Seth.”

Seth looked down the hill. “Nothing’s gonna happen,” he said.

“Look. If anything happens – I mean anything, I’d be responsible…”

“What the hell could possibly happen?”

Gabe didn’t respond.

“Fine,” Seth hissed, “But if Carey wants to try it, then who are you to say he can’t?”

“Who am I? I’m his oldest brother.”

“Yeah, well I’m his brother too, but I know that he should be able to do what he wants.”

Just like when he had puffed and pedaled so hard to catch up to his brothers riding through the neighborhood, to tell them that he wanted to go to Skill Hill today, Carey quietly entered the conversation, “I don’t see what the big deal is, Gabe.”

Both of his brothers stared at him. Gabe tilted his head, creased his eyes, and pursed his lips. Seth flashed a grin that neither of his brothers ever made.

“Carey, look down that hill,” Gabe said quietly.

The cement dropped into the ditch. The dark water sat still between the shrubs. Gabe spoke again, “Do you know what’s in that water?”

Carey shook his head.

“You see all the spots, they look kinda like rain drops even though there’s no rain?”

Carey nodded.

“Every single one of those little spots is a mosquito. They lay their eggs in the water, and they live down there. Nobody goes down Skill Hill without getting bit. As soon as your bike stops, when you skid, it’s like they knew you were coming. They swarm all over you.” Carey bit his lip. His brother kept talking, “Plus, there’s snakes down there, Carey – water moccasins. They live in the bushes, and they swim underwater. So if you’re down there, you can’t even see them coming. That’s why Mom and Dad don’t want us here.”

Carey’s eyes grew wide. He wasn’t scared of the mosquitoes. They lived everywhere, but he thought he saw a snake slither through the brush and drop into the water. Its scales reflected the sun. Then, it was gone. Carey scanned the stream. He was almost certain that he could see the snake beneath the water.

Carey choked and coughed. The sun beat down on his neck. He finally started sweating a bit on the back of his neck. He wiped it off, but he couldn’t look away from the cottonmouth at the bottom of Skill Hill.

“Is that what you’re afraid of, Gabe?” Seth laughed, “Cuz Carey could be bit by a mosquito anywhere. Just cuz they’re born down there doesn’t mean…”

“It’s not the mosquitoes, Seth. The only big deal about them is that if he comes home all bit up, and we’re not, Mom and Dad are gonna wonder how that happened…”

“So you’re afraid of the snakes?”

Gabe didn’t answer.

“Carey,” Seth smiled, “Snakes aren’t a big deal.”

“What do you know about snakes?”

“I know a lot about ‘em, Gabe.”

Gabe shrugged, but Seth didn’t notice. He kept talking to Carey, “Look, Carey, you can catch any snake down there.”

“What are you talking about, Seth?”

Standing up on his pedals, Seth blocked the sun and shouted, “I catch ‘em all the time, Gabe!”

Gabe twisted his features. He didn’t believe Seth, but Seth didn’t pay any attention to him. Still standing on his pedals, still casting a shadow over Carey, he told him, “The snakes swim underwater, Carey, but as long as you stay at the edge, you can see ‘em comin’. Then, when they crawl up from the sewer, you gotta sneak up behind ‘em, and if you grab ‘em right behind the head, they can’t bite you. Once you got ‘em, you can do anything you want with ‘em,” and Seth reached down to mimic the action of catching the snake.

  Smiling and still holding the imaginary snake in his hand, he plopped back into his seat. The sun reappeared, and Carey squinted. He was speechless. When he looked back into the ditch, the water moccasin he thought he had seen was nowhere near as scary as Gabe had made it sound.

“And you’ve done that before, huh, Seth?”

“Yeah, Gabe, I’ve done it.”

Gabe didn’t say anything.

“Gabe, if the snakes don’t matter like Seth says, then why does it matter if I try Skill Hill?”

Gabe looked down the ditch. One long and dark streak near the bottom caught his gaze. A long time ago, when the seat he was sitting on hadn’t been much higher than Carey’s, that mark had been screamed into existence by his own BMX. Thinking, he frowned. “Carey,” he said, “Do you see that one mark down there by the water?”

Carey tried looking where his brother was pointing.

“I made that mark,” he said, “You know you don’t have to go any closer to the water than right there. Okay?”

Carey nodded.

“Except,” Seth added, “You can’t even see my mark. The water’s too high right now.”

Gabe scowled at Seth. Seth smiled at Carey. Carey breathed deeply.

“Go ahead,” Gabe said.

Carey swallowed hard. Exhaling slowly, he tightened his hands on the handlebars.

“You’re gonna wanna back up some,” Seth told him, “So you can get good speed.”

Carey lifted his kickstand off the ground. He stood up on his pedals. He pressed down with his left leg. Swerving back around, his little Diamondback jumbled through the ruts.

A short distance away, he heard Gabe call, “That’s good Carey!” He stopped pedaling, and he turned back to see Gabe and Seth sitting at the edge of the ditch.

The sun burned above them. Skill Hill loomed before them. Its bottom was invisible now. A trickle of sweat dripped down Carey’s forehead. It stung his eyes. “Go ahead,” Seth told him.

Carey pressed down on the pedals. The chain spun. It pulled the back tire along. Bobbing up and down, building his bike’s speed, Carey rumbled through the rutted dirt. Both of his brothers turned to watch him.

The heat folded the earth. The humidity got thicker. Skill Hill opened up in front of Carey. Coming closer to his brothers, he swallowed and held his breath. Soon, he was alongside them. Then, his front tire dipped off the ground.

Still pedaling as hard as he could, he was flying down the cement. The glittering surface slipped away. A whooshing noise rushed across his ears. He could see the pinpricked bodies of the mosquitoes. They were raindrops on the black stream. Carey sped over the skid marks. The air smelled dead. The world was zooming past quicker than Carey could have imagined. The smell got stronger. He reached Gabe’s mark, but he kept going, trying to find Seth’s invisible mark.

At the water’s edge, he inhaled the ditch’s decay. He stopped pedaling. Spinning faster than it should, his front tire passed off the concrete onto a patch of asphalt that was permanently stained by the sewage. Carey strained to pull the handlebars. With a cry, a spray of murky water skidded out from beneath his tires to drench his Diamondback’s blue frame. Below the earth, as a sheen of mud slipped between his wheels and the ground, Carey saw the world tilt.

For a moment, he really was flying. In that second, he thought that maybe he had gone as far as Seth had, but then, his wings melted. With a small splash, he fell into the water.

He kept his eyes closed. His palms, his elbows, his knees were burning from their slide across the concrete that wasn’t quite so smooth when you got so close to it. The rocks in it had sliced off pieces of his flesh, and each one released its own piece into the drainage flowing overtop of it. This far into the ditch, the smell was so strong. Carey tried focusing on it so that his body wouldn’t hurt so bad.

Then, a buzz beside his ear and a prick in the back of his neck made him start up. He inhaled a short breath of sewage. Not too far away from him, he couldn’t see the bottom of the stream. Something darted beneath the surface, and Carey scrambled back onto the concrete.

Still spinning its wheels, his bike was on its side, but a brand new mark was on the cement. Small waves licked the twisted handlebars. Breathing deeply, Carey scooted beside his bike. The sudden motion hurt his hands. They bled a trail from where he had been to where he was now.

The smell swirled through the air that was too humid to evaporate the water sticking to Carey’s arms and face and clothes. He looked at his hands and elbows and knees. Blood was dripping from the maroon scrapes and the deep gashes that had infected him. Mosquitoes landed on him, taking a piece of him away with every buzz of their wings. Carey felt his cool blood wash across the warm sludge caked to his knees. He was about to cry.

Then, a scream echoed down through Skill Hill. With sweat stuck to his forehead, Carey turned to the sound. The sun was behind his brothers. In order to see them, he had to shade his eyes.

Both of his brothers were shadows now. They looked exactly the same. Only their mannerisms revealed their names. Raised high in the air, both of Seth’s fists were punching holes in the sky. With a grin on his mud-splattered face, Carey lifted his arms to mirror his action. Gabe hung his head over his arms folded across his handlebars, and he shouted, “Come back, Carey!”

Suddenly, amid a clatter of metal on metal on earth, Gabe and Seth dropped their bikes and leaped into the ditch to run down the cement wall. Gabe was yelling something about getting out of there, but the words didn’t make any sense. And Carey couldn’t understand why Seth was staring at something to his left.

Slowly dropping his arms, Carey turned to see what Seth was running at.

The water moccasin must have been woken up by the screaming bike splashing into the ditch. Now, its tongue was flickering back and forth as it slithered into the light to sun its whip-like body on the concrete. Carey stopped breathing. He wanted to escape, but he couldn’t move.

The sun baked everything it came into contact with. Skill Hill’s dead smell permeated the air. Drops of water pooled around Carey. Mosquitoes were buzzing everywhere. Drops of blood dripped onto the concrete. Hissing at Carey, the snake revealed the cotton-white mouth behind its fangs. Seth shouted to his paralyzed, baby brother, “Get up and catch it, Carey! Catch the snake!”

By Michael Anthony Adams, Jr.
From his story collection Welcome to the Modern World, Charlie.