FLYING A KITE AT THE BEACH

I don’t remember it being much of a kite,

Blue, perhaps, or red…some gaudy color, thin wood for the frame;

Plastic, -didn’t even have a tail I can recall, real cheap

But the kid was adamant. Nothing else would do…

The need for a kite was insistently itching at him,

And when you’re 11, you scratch that itch

And scratch it NOW or no fun at the beach,

No fun for anyone. He would see to that.

I was doubtful. No boyhood kite I ever had, flew,

(And I had a bunch of them-name your color or shape).

Images of Charlie Brown’s kite eating tree filled my mind-

No trees on the beach, but an errant puff of wind

Could tangle an unsuspecting kite in the power lines

Across the shore road.  ZAP!!! Adults always catastrophize,

Kids don’t give a care. This kid wanted, NEEDED, he said.

I bought the kite.

“Make sure you get plenty of string. I want it to go higher

Than any other kite on the beach!” He knew he could make it soar.

I wasn’t so sanguine. I figured it might keep him occupied,

And that would be enough. The kite came with string to fly.

“I want more line!!!” I caved, the dollars came out. He was

The proud owner of the biggest ball of kite-flying string around,

At least around the Long Sands Variety Store.

Before the beach blanket was even down, the towels out,

The wife and I settled, the kite had to be assembled.

He hopped on one leg, then the other, the picture of impatience

As I tried to make sense of the instructions, translated out of

The Japanese by someone who knew neither English nor Japanese,

To be assembled by me, with neither the skill nor the dexterity

To know what I was doing.

The job was done, the extra string tied in.

“Run it down the beach” he cried, “And let it go

When I tell you.” I wondered how the adult had come to be given

All the work, but that ball of string was his Starship control panel

And he wasn’t relinquishing it for the world. Not to some adult anyway.

I ran. He shouted. I let go. The kite fluttered and gained altitude.

It flew. IT FLEW!!!

Into the sky it flew, Past the silly screeching seagulls it flew,

Up and up and up…so high- the kid kept letting out line,

The kite taking as fast as it could get, further and further

Until it was a barely visible speck against the blue,

Until it disappeared, the taut line being the only clue

That the kite was still there. There was no prouder boy in the world

Gazing intently into space, long blond hair whipping in the wind.

And I was proud too, and happy for him as I watched him

Try to gently guide what he could not see, taking in and letting out

Oh so gradually, carefully. He couldn’t have had more

Than a couple hundred feet of string, just enough to take the kite

Beyond eye range, but as I watched, he seemed to be

Up there straddling the kite, fighting wind monsters,

Discovering new lands in the air, and claiming them as his own.

Suddenly a snap- the hastily tied knot broke, or perhaps was

Pulled beyond its strength. Maybe one of the wind monsters got it.

String cascaded down from the sky, nothing on the other end

To keep it aloft as the kite kept flying and flying away,

Now unfettered, on its own now, no longer the boy’s property.

Things that fly never belong to anyone, least of all eleven year old boys.

I prepared for the impending storm.

I expected tears and tantrums and stomping around,

Maybe even a naughty word or two. The kid had a colorful

Vocabulary and was prone to use it when provoked. But nothing:

A moment’s sadness, perhaps. But now that the kite was away

It was over and done with. There were sand castles to build,

Waves to body surf, and baby crabs in tidal pools to terrorize.

He had flown ‘way out there where no one but he could see.

He had come back to earth, and he was satisfied.

September 15, 2009