“Wooshhhhhh!”

“Can you go do that outside, sweetie?”

Charlie jumped down off the chair and the floor bounced. He ran around the kitchen with his arms stretched out in front of him, the bath towel tied around his neck not so much billowing behind him as it was dragging on the back of his legs.

“Charlie. Please go outside and play. Mommy’s on the phone.”

He smacked his hands on the screen door and was gone, out in the yard, wheeling around it like an airplane circling until the tower gives it clearance to land.

“That kid, Mom, he’s something else.” Angela grabbed the telephone before it slipped from between her shoulder and head and tucked it back in its place.

“Hm? Oh yes. Yes, we’re doing alright I guess. Charlie’s doing alright. I really don’t know if he’s noticed much of a change. Jenny? Can you go outside and watch your brother for a minute?” The sound of the television in the other room was the only thing that hinted there was anyone else in the house.

“I don’t know, mom. I just not sure about putting him in that special school. He needs his mother, you know? No, I – I know I need to work, mom, they just don’t know him like I do. I’m kind of scared for him, you know?” She pulled the curtains apart and Charlie was trying to climb the Lilac bush. She rapped on the window. He dropped to the ground and started running in circles again.

“Jenny? Go outside and watch your brother! Sometimes I’m not so sure, Mom. I know what the doctors said. Yes, of course I trust them, but I’m just saying that a mother knows her son better.” She watched Charlie zoom around the yard wearing his football helmet with the green stripe down the middle, his cape trailing behind him. “Like how?”

Jenny scuffed into the room in a daze. She stood on a chair and got a box of cereal down off the shelf., then went back into the other room.

“Like… sometimes… sometimes I feel like the doctors are wrong. That he isn’t different. That he’s just a normal boy. And sometimes they’re right, and he’s not normal. And I guess I kind of like it when he’s not normal, you know? Because if he doesn’t see the world the same way everyone else does, then I can feel hopeful, you know? Because if he doesn’t believe in something, how can it keep him down? It’s like… it’s like gravity. If we really didn’t believe in gravity, I mean really didn’t believe it existed, does that mean it would still pull us down?” She smiled. “Yeah, I know. I’m Dad’s kid, not yours.”

The kitchen was quiet for a moment with only the sound of the TV in the other room and the timer on the stove.

Angela eased herself into a chair.

“No, I’m alright, Mom. Tired I guess – Oh my God!”

She dropped the phone and flew outside, tripping over the toys on the porch. She ran the length of the yard, hands at her mouth in panic.

Charlie had managed to climb a pile of junk and onto the roof of the shed. He had taken off most of his clothes and was standing at the peak in only his socks and underpants, bath towel hanging from his neck, football helmet cocked to one side.

“Charlie! Please come down from there! You’re scaring Mommy! Charlie? Please? Please come down?”

Charlie had the biggest grin on his face. He was watching the birds perched on the roof of the house. At some unseen signal, they all rose and disappeared from view.

“Charlie? Please come down, baby.”

Charlie held up his arms, palms open, face shining.

“Wooshhhhhh.”