I wish to fly

I wish to fly

A Story by Sangria Green

“I wish to fly”

Story 1 A Fresh Start

            The scene begins on a rather hot morning in a powder blue bedroom of a spacious one story home of the Evenings family. The room is eerily dark, the only light and sound coming from the flashing alarm and the sweltering girl in the bed. The short haired African American girl is cursing under her breath not for the first time. Recently expelled from an average private high school because of incident where she used deception to save a friend ,Iris Evenings, has woken up to her last morning at her home in Merit Acres, Common Day. Irritable and upset the normally calm girl shakily gets out of bed to wake her family.

             The morning activities began. An hour later Iris, her younger sister, Clarisse, her mother, and her step-father are eating butter rolls and bacon at the old, satin covered, table in the red dining room. Iris, of course, doesn’t have the bacon because she doesn’t feel all that well this morning. She’d much rather crawl back into her cool freshly washed covers and wait for her friends to call. Her sister finishes and scowls at Iris’s slow pace. “Why are you taking such a long time? Are you not ready to go,” Clarisse questions indulgently. She smiles. “Of course she’s ready! She has been planning to leave us for a while now!” Her mother crows across the table and laughs. Iris continues to eat. There was a ball of heat in her chest that was burning. She could feel the sweat rolling in waves down her front. “Leave the girl alone, Mary. You’re the one who was already moving her.” Her step-father frowns at his wife and daughter. They shouldn’t be acting this way.

            Mr. Evenings is almost insulted with their taunting knowing they jumped at the chance. Just how old were they? Iris finishes and wipes her mouth. Abruptly standing up, Iris smiles at her step-father apologetically. She hadn’t had such a bad relationship with him as she had developed with the rest of her family. Once upon a time she wouldn’t have gone against him. But He had been a part of this decision; there was no reason for hesitance. Iris stands and nods her head back turning it to the side and wrinkling her nose as if she had smelled something awful. She glared down at the occupants of the table and laughed haughtily, “I wanted to get away from you all, Mother, not from my friends and life.” She smirks at her mother’s loud resounding cursing of her birth and shouts as her step-father tries to restrain mother. Her sister sputters at her that she didn’t believe Iris would actually went through with it. It was an audacity that had been the result of a petty bet between them and Iris had used it to its full advantage. She had made it into a show not contrived from her nature. The ongoing petty but skillful rivalry between her and Clarisse was often simply the result of both their troubles. Who would stand up to their mother first? Iris would normally ignore it. Their mother was over bearing but until not uneasily subdued; besides, why rock the boat when, as this was the beginning of her eleventh year in high school, she would soon no longer be dependent on her care. Her sister, Clarisse Evenings, did everything wrong and only got off because their step-father stepped in while she was left to burn. No, there was no reason to be bitter.

             Iris stands in the glaring sun in the backyard. There are no swings in the yard, no childhood memoirs. The grass was as green as her favorite flavor of Jolly Ranger and was drippy and soggy from morning dew. The trees in the yard were strong old things that had been a surprise when they had moved here. They were pale and thin and perfect, the kind or trees she had never managed to animate in her writing. Still and quiet, like in a pastel painting she had always wonder how they would burn. The heat was still beating down on her as it had from her bedroom window, blaring and burning down on her as if an incarnation of fire had decides she was a drum. She’s inconsolable at her mother’s mirth at situation but had expected it. Having found out only a day before that her mother had decided to send her to the charter school they wanted her to go to in the next city. The school she was going to now. Her step-father finally steps out the door. He stands looking at her before shaking his head and walking to the front of the house. She turns and follows him.

            Iris and Her step-father are in a little car driving down a usually busy highway. They’re the only one on the road. It’s raining and as the atmosphere has done nothing to help his stepdaughter’s foul mood the now humbly optimistic Mr. Evenings tries to lighten the mood. He chooses to ignore the morning events and looks forward to having a daughter going to such an esteemed charter school He is a great man, in voice, girth, and business, and as such he knows both the dean of the charter school Iris is to attend and the dean of the college which campus and dorms it shares. He hopes this news with lighten the air somewhat as she won’t have as much trouble on site as she might think.Now listen here, Iris, I know you don’t like the idea being so far away from your friends and but I know the dean here-,” he starts slowly, reasonably. Iris, on the passenger side, deliberately turns her head away and glares out the window. “-Trim Academy is a really good charter school. You shouldn’t have any problems… Honey, are you listening to me,” He waits impatiently for her reply. She remains quiet. “Honey, your mother and I were very happy you received an invitation and we’re hoping that this will help you achieve the best educational success possible. That charter school will get you straight into Trim Archer University. I know you don’t want to but you don’t have a choice. If there are any problems the dean will tell me,” He’s rather stern now, frustrated with Iris’s really obvious disrespect. This was for HER future after all. She turns to him now her expression questioning. “If I wanted to get into that college I would have sent an Inquiry about an application there and not to GW Institute,” She states this calmly, in a matter-of-fact sort of voice. Mr. Evenings cannot hold his anger in any longer. “How far would you go there,” he growls, “with no talent or training?” Iris once again glares out the window.

            They arrive at the college. It is a multitude of seeming gray buildings, seemingly of all sizes, the college and is put in a rather dreary light by thin white street light which flickered in the sleeting rain. As they arrive Mr. Evenings does not leave the car but stares forward spitefully as Iris awkwardly gets out of the car. They are in front of a gray circle building with a dome top. Iris knew that the main office would be in a building behind it but not who she was suppose to meet or where. She turned back to her step-father, who was still coldly staring ahead, his hands griping the wheel obviously itching to move.

Inwardly, Iris is desolate, but finds she must speak or be forced to wander about campus in the rain. “Step-father,She questions even as she once again turns from him and then goes around to the back of the car. “What now,” He growls, knowing he’s acting like a child and becoming more frustrated by the fact. “Who am I suppose to meet and where,” She asked with only a tinge of a hesitant air. She opens the back to get her trunk and books. Mr. Evenings sighs and turns to look out his window. The night was dark and it was still raining. This wasn’t the goodbye he was expecting. “The main office is in the first building behind the Astronomy building, down the stairs, and next to the boiler room. The dean will send a student to meet you,” He answers almost tiredly. He wanted to be gone from here. Iris nods and closes the back. Her father leaves. Iris walks to the building and enters to find the inside dry and hot. She feels as if she’s being watched. She curses and goes toward the stairs. Iris was hesitant to use the cold, black contraptions that look as though they might fail at any moment. Her clothes stick to her from the rain. Iris feels a brief moment of terror as she slips on the first step but before she can fall she feels someone grab her from behind. She spins around. “Are you alright, Madame” The question was asked cockily by a boy who looked to have European ancestry with black hair and tan skin. The boy seems to be about two years older than her and tall. The first thing Iris feels is surprises and she immediately feels the need of interrogation. “Who are you? What were you doing hanging around here? It was 9:30 P.M. when I got here pal,” She demands answers. She was never good at meeting people and she didn’t believe in coincidence. What was he doing behind her, here, now, at all? The boy, who was grinning, widens his eyes in surprise and puts his arms up in mock surrender before answering, “Why, I’m Superman, of course!” Iris gaped. He couldn’t be serious, she thought. The boy laughed and walked passed her to the stairs. Iris spins around still disbelieving. As he starts down the stairs she starts on him. “You cannot be serious! Who the hell would want to be Superman,” She asked almost mockingly though all the inside she was horrified. Did he want to run around in tights and save people? The boy froze; she could see his neck turn red as he griped the metal rail. Then slowly he shook his head and still not facing her shouted out his reply, “Someone who knows what they’re doing.” He shook his head and mumbled about “lost girls” under his breath before starting down the stairs once more. Iris, angry at the implication asks,” Well, sorry Mr. Sun if I bothered you but I didn’t asked to be saved! What am I forever supposed to praise the messenger now?” “And who are you, Jonas McHale?” He asks unconvinced of any reasons to argue with a child. The kid was obviously younger than himself, what was she doing here anyway? “Well, if raging a war against god means going against you, I guess I’m the devil,” She ground out fully aware of the implications and comparisons. This answer surprised Superman; After all, Gateway to Paradise by Katie Weather was a VERY banned book about how a ten year old kid discovers that his community is run by a man believing he is man-eating god and over the next ten years of his life starts a rebellion with his classmates until he is finally apprehended by the police and goes to the electric chair. No one much cared for children reading that sort of thing especially with the parents of the good children believe that eating hookers saves their souls. He stopped again and this time turned to the young lady. “You read Gateway to Paradise,” He asked rising an eyebrow. Iris was freaked out that he would drop the argument so quickly –

“A guy wasn’t against the whole teenage boy shouting men are evil I’ll kill myself before I turn thirty thing,” She asked in awe. The guys at her old school had been really immature when they’d heard about the book. She had wanted to stone them. Superman suddenly grinned. “Why,” He questions the girl because not many knew about that book.

 

            Superman and Iris continue to talk about the book as they both head down the stairs. They have come to the understanding that they both need to see the dean. Iris seems to have forgotten the fact that she’s speaking to ‘Superman’. They enter the office at the bottom of the stairs. Before them is a Bright office room with warm air and soft music. In the middle of the room is a large wooden desk. Behind the desk is a small little man as roll as the ball and seeming bouncing at the sound of music in his seat. ‘Superman’ grins at Iris’s surprise and tries to get his attention...

             “Hey; Hey! Mr. Dean, what cha doing,” He shouts as if the man is deaf. Iris cringes and scowls at him. The round man (if you could call it that, as were Iris could have swore the man had no chin,) pops up at the sound. “Ah! Oh! Superman, I’ve been waiting for you. And I see you found our missing lady too! Hello, Ms. Evenings! How was the drive,” He’s suddenly bubbling with interest and excitement. Iris raises an eyebrow in disdain. “Please don’t call me that,” Iris said not much caring for that name at the moment. “Well yes…,” The Dean sputters as if he can’t find the words, “Well, I’m the Dean and I’ve heard many good things about you. Orientations tomorrow but the first thing you need know is that you will have a mentor and since you’ve already met yours He’ll show you you’re room. Good bye.” He hesitantly gets up and pushes them out the room and then out in the hall…

“Hey! Now wait just-,” Iris starts. He pushes her out, handing her a slip with her room number on it. Superman follows her with his arms up in mock defeat before being pushed out. Iris spins to say something right before the door is shut in her face. “What a stupid jerk! How did he become a dean,” Iris asked angrily. She was seriously thinking about kicking in the door. “What did he mean by Mentor anyway? What, the house coordinator?” Iris questions ‘Superman’ moments later; she is still angry at being kicked out.

 “What house coordinator? I’m your mentor,” Superman replies steadily and raises an eyebrow in question at her confusion. “This place doesn’t allow co-ed dorms and there are plenty of diverse groups coming to school here so as part of the agreement there’s a sort of big brother/ mentoring program going on that lasts until a new student’s 2nd year to be sure to help people out. Only people from the college are allowed to volunteer and I got you. Congratulations,” He says this grinning, giving himself a thumps up.“What? When and why would I want Superman,” She looks him up and down in disbelief. He was joking, right? “You must be joking if you think I choose Superman,” She said angrily turning away from him, “I can find a room myself. Go find your Lois, Superman, I am not playing victim tonight!” She starts up the stairs. “You’re crazy! It’s late and you’ll get lost,” He says storming up behind her, “What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with Superman? Do you have no faith in anything? What is your problem?” He’s yelling now. What was she thinking? What was the problem? He could understand that she didn’t know anything about the mentor program but this…A flash of lightning blooms through a before unnoticed upper window as Iris stops and turns back abruptly. Superman doesn’t see the action at first and finds himself face to face with Iris. Iris glares up at him and starts to speak as thunder crackles in the background. The storm starts to strum. “What are you so worried about? A little girl getting raped on the big bad college! Ha! People see that junk on the news every night, a bunch of brats who don’t know how to take care of themselves and you expect me to follow you? Are you kidding,” Iris asks. Iris is furious he thinks so little of a complete stranger. Even though he knew the campus better she was willing and ready to sleep on the stairs. She wasn’t above defending herself .In fact; it was quickly insulting to think of herself as one those girls who could have been victims. It didn’t help, she thought, that I know my friends always had someone looking out for me. The very thought almost enraged her.

“I’m not saying you can’t defend yourself! I’m just here to show you a room,” Superman said quickly.  He is reeling from confusion and anger. What was with this girl?

“Leave me alone! I’m not here to be babysat,” Iris shakes her head. He just didn’t get it! She didn’t want to be here!“What’s the matter with you? I’m not babysitting you and I’m sure as hell not the chauvinistic pig you’re making me out to be! You were fine before we went to the dean and then your attitude went straight to hell! What’s going on,” He demands. He glares at her. Her actions were just... plain weird! She glares at him again before mentally sighing. “Nothing I just got in to the moment and decided to take stuff out on you. You’re Superman, You can handle it right,” Iris asks tiredly. It was as if she had been filling with a parasitic energy. It had come filling her up with steal and anger till she had forgotten that it wasn’t a part of her. No, it was alive and the second she failed to give it a meal the backlash came back on her. Iris looks down feeling embarrassed and then decides to shake the feeling off. That weights to heavy. “It’s hard to be considerate of the feelings of a total stranger when they go around calling themselves Superman. Why do you do it? It seems like that would get a lot of stupid remarks to me,” She asked after Superman failed to reply.

            He let out a breath of fresh air. Gone was the dragon. “Dreams: I want to be the best and all the best had their super hot shot names but no one’s more unforgettable then Superman. I’m a runner. Being the best is like soaring. I want to fly as hard as Superman,” He said grinning. She shook her head again. It seemed to be a bad habit. “That’s a little impossible, isn’t it? Forget that Superman is the stereotypical version of a perfect male hero, every little boys dream; Forget that he’s been rewritten over centuries and changed to fit the media. Superman is humble and selfless; life won’t let you do that and survive. You can’t be perfect all the time. Every once in a while you have to jump the gun and be the bad guy. Everyone has to,” she said. Superman smiled. She didn’t understand. “I want to be a hero. I’ll deal the consequences later. What about you. Don’t you have a dream,” he asked smirking. Somehow his eyes hold hers. She had a dream, yes. It was a haunting thought holding her mind captive; a tightening pain in her chest. “I have a dream; I don’t know how I’m going to do it though,” iris sighed. “So, what is it,” He quirks an eyebrow in exasperation. Iris shakes her head a little almost laughing but not quite. Superman thinks she sounds a little bitter.  Iris grins up at Superman. This conversation couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be happening so why didn’t she just tell the truth. “Ha. I ...want to...Fly,” She replied as if that was clearer than superman’s explanation. Superman fakes mock stupidity. “You mean like in an airplane? Why,” he asks, laughingly.  Iris’ right eye suddenly quirks. “Stupid. It’s an analogy. I want to be an artist. Heh, I want to soar above the competition and kick a*s,” she said haughtily. They both burst out laughing.

 

© 2008 Sangria Green


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Added on February 8, 2008

Author

Sangria Green
Sangria Green

columbia, SC



About
I love to write, and i want to become an author and an animator. more..

Writing