The Kite | Freewrite: 6/7/24 | Prompt: A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

The day began cloudy, but cleared to produce a stunning, clear blue sky with a slight breeze as I perched on an adopted water stump. Several friends joined me. We enjoyed sightseeing as well as diving for delicacies in the surrounding water on the secluded beach. But our daily activities couldn't end before anxiously waiting for the young boy, Marcus, to provide us much anticipated entertainment.

It was just an old kite. But Marcus loved the logo and web design featuring his favorite comic character, Spiderman. Torn in several spots, he managed to cover the holes. Every day during the summer school break, we watched as he'd approach from the gravel path. We knew he must live close by. Once his feet sank into the warm sand, he'd bend down to reinforce the kite string.

Next, a running start. Still, the kite dove headfirst into the sand. Marcus threw down the kite, his hands flailing. He probably realized it lacked wind speed as our wings did to catch the air effortlessly. But that didn't deter him. Several more times, he attempted to achieve liftoff.

Nearby my friends chuckled. "Nero, you're the largest of us seagulls, show him how it's done." I declined, with a wicked smile erupting into loud squawking as I watched Marcus struggle to keep the kite airborne.

Even though we were friends, and I felt sad, I didn't interfere.

Failing to gain traction, Marcus plopped down on the sand with his kite at his side. From his pockets, he retrieved small pouches of dried fruit and cracker snacks. He carefully opened each pouch and placed them on a small, round tray. Immediately, we gathered, chirping wildly and fluttering tightly around the snacks.

"No need to push and shove, guys. Be kind. There's plenty to share," Marcus spoke softly, then laughed as he opened more pouches and added them to the tray.

This he did daily all summer.

We enjoyed the entertainment as Marcus tried desperately numerous times to fly the kite. We'd cock our heads to the side and watch wide eyed the efforts he expended.

The next day and for many days after, I noticed that Marcus' trips to the beach were only for short periods. He attempted one flight, then gave up. But he never ceased providing us a snack before heading back toward his home.

Two months later, I spotted Marcus as he approached the path to the beach. This time, he neither ran through the grassy section nor planted his feet in the sand.

He wasn't alone. A tall, lean man walked closely behind, pushing a chair down the wooden ramp. Marcus sat still in the chair. His kite lay on his lap.

Puzzled, I stared in silence. The chair resembled one shown on a sign near the ramp. Thoughts raced through my mind. Why didn't Marcus get up and run down the beach? And who is this man accompanying him. As I watched, the man leaned over and tousled his hair.

"I'll be right back with water and snacks." The man said, then walked back down the ramp, returning as promised.

For an entire week, the man wheeled Marcus to his favorite spot, then left. He returned a short time later. Those days, Marcus sat in the chair on wheels and unraveled the kite string and let go, but the kite failed to rise. He leaned on the chair's arm and sobbed.

Something isn't right, I thought as I watched Marcus wipe his face with his sleeve. He raised his head, opened the snacks, and distributed them as he sat silently staring out over the water into the horizon.

Once we finished eating, I chirped several times, issuing a call to action. Several of us descended on the kite, one on each of the points. Marcus reached for the string and held on, loosening it as we flapped our wings, taking the kite higher.

The sound of laughter brought smiles to our faces as we held the kite in place despite no wind aiding our cause. Suddenly, I gazed beyond the ramp. The man was heading our way. we immediately returned the kite to Marcus and flew back to our water perch resting stoically as we overheard the conversation.

"Dad, the seagulls helped me fly my kite!" Marcus waved his arms excitedly to share the amazing news.

"What do you mean, son?" Those are just birds, how can they fly a kite. What fantasies are you concocting now?" We now knew who the man was as he frowned, an exasperated look on his face. He wheeled Marcus around and guided him back across the wooden ramp.

A lump lodged in my throat. An uneasy feeling overcame me as they disappeared between the beach homes.

I dismounted the perch and followed Marcus and his dad. Waiting until they entered the house, I flew toward the window and perched on the sill.

Moments later from the bedroom, I overheard Marcus ask, "Will I be able to return to the beach?" His dad didn't respond.

I flew back and told my friends. We waited, but Marcus didn't return.

About a month later, I visited Marcus' home. There lying on top of the familiar trash container was the kite. We know when humans place items in and on top that they no longer want them. Shocked, my legs shook as I flew back to the water perch. The solemn glances we shared acknowledged that Marcus would not return to the beach again.

I knew we had to act quickly. It must have looked like a strange happening as I led my friends through the row of beach houses, weaving in and out. We flocked to the trash container and retrieved the kite.

Up we headed over the beach houses and toward the shoreline until over open water, rising higher until the kite caught wind. We let go in unison and watched the kite float away on the wind dipping, then rising.

"We'll sure miss those delicious snacks," my friend Isaac said with a playful frown as he flapped his wings.

We feel silent, our wings extended forming a circle as we glanced down toward the beach. The deep impression left by Marcus' chair on wheels smiled up at us.

Tears dropped as I and each of my friends knew that the little boy delighted in seeing the kite catch its wind. In our hearts, we already missed him and felt that in a small way we'd made a dream come true. The kite flew, believing that it was made possible on the wings of a seagull.

We smiled, then flew off into the evening sun toward our water perch.

Welcome back to my freewrite prompt story for this week. The photo that is the subject of the story spoke to me about a person :

Describe what you see.
A white seagull is hovering in mid air as a fish jumps out of the blue waters. The weather is calm as the sky is gray. In the background a sailboat and larger boat is in sight in the distance.

Describe what you feel.
The bird appears to be distracted or startled by someone or something happening out of view.

Write a story or poem about what you think is going on. I leave with you my story for: A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words - 6/7/24.

^{Image used with permission of contest owner}