coast city, ca ;; childhood recollections [1/x]
        â MARTIN, you canât just -- â
   Itâs the third, maybe fourth, time heâs heard this argument within the past couple of months.  Theyâre in the kitchen when he manages to pass by the doorway unseen.  If his mother knew he was listening -- well, it would be better if she didnât.  As much as he loved his mother, he was his fatherâs son.  But theyâre arguing again and he clutches the model plane in his hand as he heads up the stairs.
   Typical Californian weather meant that any day was nice for spending time outside.  Instead of setting the kit up inside, theyâd opted to complete their project outside.  His father had even pointed out that the glue seemed to dry faster and kept their mess off the dinner table too.  Sheâs afraid, though ( as far as Hal can tell ).  Why?  He isnât entirely sure, but he continues creeping his way back to his room.
   Somehow itâs a relief that Jack and Jim are probably still out.
   When the door finally closes behind him, itâs silence at last.  Though Hal can hear faint murmurs and muffled words, he canât make the words out clearly enough for them to distract him for the task at hand.  Heâs running out of space.  The other planes are now cramped against each other with this new addition on his shelf, but his eyes light up at the memory of each one.  Maybe heâll ask for a bookcase next... as a birthday or Christmas present.
   His eye trails to the third on the right... next to the red one ( his favorite )... that was the one his father had taken him up in that one night.  Snuck him on to Ferris Air for a little flight.  It had felt like he could have touched the sky in that moment.  The closest he had ever felt like a bird.  He felt free, weightless and -- incredible.  As if nothing seemed impossible in that moment.
   He also remembers the look in his fatherâs eyes.  That light and sparkle. Â
   At the sound of knocking, Hal snaps out of his thoughts and watches the door open.  His father looks guilty ( as he always does ) after an argument.  Once again, heâs explaining to him why his mother is so upset.  Between the two of them, they both know heâs not actually listening, but itâs a conversation to be had when his mother is listening in ( to make sure said conversation actually happens ).
   After a few nods, a âyesâ and expression of compliance, his father ruffles his hair and gives a knowing grin.  Halâs caught the bug too; the yearning to fly.  One day heâll be up there too... not that they make any promises between the two of them about it.  Itâs something they both known and understand without thought... after having touched the sky and flown through it. Â
   He knows what itâs like, and itâs a beautiful thing.















