More than a Kite

More than a Kite

A Chapter by Kenny Pomaski
"

Hand written yesterday, typed today. No good literature-wise, but I wanted to experiment with multiple themes.

"

            “Wind that kite up and take off kids. Can’t be here.”

            Edward and I stop running then and, I don’t know why, but something about Edward scares me. Not in a horrifying way, but that I didn’t know what he was feeling way.

            “Hey, hold up a sec’,” said Edward, stepping up to the officer, “it’s just my little sis’ and me out here. We’re just flying a kite, having fun. Can’t you let off?”

            “This area isn’t for recreation purposes, and I’m not here to argue. Bring that kite down and get out.”

            Edward stared back at the officer for a moment, his face unchanged but his silence a cacophony of screams and swears. He just stares at the officer, like he’s trying to penetrate through the officer’s brain to make everything O.K. and understood.

            I look up into the sky and see our kite flittering through the air; a rude mixture of rainbow colors in the gray autumn sky. The kite is in full anarchy in the brief, icy winds, shifting from one side to the other in violent arcs.

            “We probably should bring it in before we lose it, Ed,” I manage to say, my words slipping through the silence like crumbs on a rug.

            “No, Elle. We’re going to stay,” said Edward, his hand growing more tense around the kite-line with his legs growing taut, preparing to jump and run.

            “But I thought the officer just said-“

            “You can stay alright; behind bars with two black eyes. You have three seconds, I’m not arguing. Wind it up, now.”

            “How the hell do you live every day being this obedient of a dog?” Edward shouted at the officer, his face even more red now, and not from the cold. “This is a beach, not some corporate complex. We just want to fly a kite!”

            “One.”

            “Edward, Mom said for you not to get in trouble!” I shout though I don’t even know why. I’m just so scared, for Edward, and myself too, I guess. “She’s going to be so mad.”

            “Elle, please. There’s more here than getting in trouble,” says Edward. He breaks eyes with the officer to look at me, and I know he’s right to some off-hand degree. He has a smile when he looks at me, his brown eyes warm and comforting, not crooked or violent. “Besides, if we do get in trouble,” says Edward, shifting back towards the officer, “it was your idea to fly a kite.”

            “That’s not fair!”

            “Two.”

            I almost want to snatch the kite-line, and almost do. But I can’t. My hand shakes as I reach out for the roll locked in Ed’s hands, and I don’t really want to take it, I just don’t want to see Edward in trouble.

            It’s not fair. It really isn’t.

I turn around and look at the water as wave after wave tries to conquer the running stream of the bay, over-shadowing one wave only to be conquered by another. I wonder how the fish feel, trapped in the games of the inconsiderate waves. The wind gets stronger too; I feel sand freckles bouncing on my hands and cheeks as they run from the shore and its mean waters.

“Three.”

“Elle, call mom,” Edward yells as he springs his legs, ready to run the world and back, except the wind cuts him short.

A massive gust rips onto the shore, and I feel the sand and salt cutting into my skin. I can’t shield my eyes; my stupid jacket is too big and I can’t move my arms! I start to yell and kick, but I don’t have anywhere to go, anywhere to hide.

Arms hug around me then, and I can’t help but yelp.

“Relax Elle, I’m here,” says Edward as he pulls my face in toward his chest, his body blocking the wind. “Stay calm, it’ll pass.”

And just like that, it did.

The beach is reclaimed with tension as Edward and the officer lock eyes once more, except, something is different.

“Ed, where’s the kite?” I ask, looking up into the plane of an all gray sky. Edward turns and looks with me, but he doesn’t see it either.

“I guess the line snapped,” says Ed to me, and all I can do is shrug my shoulders. He looks so disappointed, and his eyes look wet from something more than the cold winds.

“Take that as a sign, and leave.”

The officer heads back toward the patrol car and I can see Ed’s whole body turn tense as he watches, shuddering with quick impulses of anger and failure. I grab his hand and yank him down to my level, and, as I go and hug him, I feel his tears as I press my cheek near his.

He hugs me, harder than ever before. We just stand there on the beach, hugging, until eventually Edward mumbles something about leaving.

I start running, not towards the water or parking lot, but the woods.

“Elle, where are you going?” Edward yells.

“I’m finding the kite,” I yell back.

“It’s just a kite, forget about it.”

“No,” I say, “It’s more than a kite. A whole lot more.”

 




© 2009 Kenny Pomaski



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I tend to agree to the previous reviewer's statements about this piece.
I got the feeling that the piece was just a glimpse into something much larger... the opening of a book possibly, like the previous reviewer had said. Maybe the opening of these character's lives. Elle seems innocent and naive, while Edward seems big brotherly and almost parenting in some way. Protective... almost like he wants to give Elle the chance to enjoy some freedom because he didn't get to enjoy it when he was her age. In some respect, it makes me think of how the two characters were raised. What could that situation would be like? Who is Edward? Who is Elle? What is their world like? Why does he act in an outburst toward authority? Possibly because the flying of the kite means much more than just the act of it-->which you can develop even further. I have confidence that you can in some way continue the idea. I don't know when you may accomplish this, but deep down I think, beyond all the "don't think so" and "this is crap, who wants to read this s**t?" you can succeed.


Posted 3 Years Ago


My point of view is that the story takes place somewhere in northern Europe, perhaps Russia.
It seems like a flash back that little sister has about one of her childhood memories.
What I am having trouble understanding is where does all the anger her brother feels come from?
This sounds like a fantastic openning for some book.
A bit editting would do no harm to it either, overall? I really liked it.

Posted 3 Years Ago



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Added on September 23, 2009
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Author

Kenny Pomaski
Kenny Pomaski

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I'm a writer who wants nothing more then to be a writer. Name is Kenny Pomaski. I'm 20, and have been writing seriously for nearly five years (Though I've been writing stories my whole life). The b.. more..

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