Page 12 of Fireworks

The grip her hands had on mine loosened but didn’t let go completely. Her hands still seemed so small as they rested on mine.

“You should see it at like 5,000 feet, its...”

Stopping mid-sentence, I bit my tongue praying she didn’t realize what I just said. She scoffed, finally looking directly at me for the first time since we got up here.

“Yeah, like you would know. How many times have you flown, twice?”

I couldn’t help but correct her know it all attitude.

“More like 1,000 hours.”

Staring blankly back at me, waiting for me to explain myself, I regretted even offering to take her up here. Why did I make such a stupid decision?

The hot-air balloon descended slowly, jostling us as it bumped hard onto the ground. For a moment, I debated hopping out and letting the attendant help her out so I could make an escape. I didn’t owe her an explanation. This was my life and my decision. No one else. Throwing my leg over the side of the basket, I hopped out, landing firmly back on the ground. The attendant, sensing the tension in our last moments, began helping Katie out of the basket at the same time. My stride was longer than hers, but she kept up as I felt her hand grab onto my forearm, pulling me back.

“Nate, what the hell was that? You’re not doing what I think you’re doing, are you? Your mother would kill you if you were.”

Being younger never seemed to stop her from trying to act like my mother.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not your problem.”

My words were full of venom. Breaking free from her grip, I continued to walk away, back into the crowds gathering around, waiting for the pie-eating contest to start. She wouldn’t dare make a scene in front of so many people.

Walking through the crowds, I wanted to make it back to my truck without getting stopped by anyone. My mind was racing about being so careless and saying anything about flying in front of anyone, especially her. I didn’t know if Katie even remembered my father. I remembered how much he loved her like she was his own. When he deployed, both of our families held their breath daily, waiting for his safe return. We never expected the knock on the door that day. The one that you think only happens in movies. My mother, physically collapsed against the man who told her his plane had gone down. The sound of her sobbing and screaming no burned into my ears. The sound woke me from nightmares for months.

For the next few months, I spent most of my time over at Asher’s house. My mother could barely take care of herself while planning his funeral, never mind me. I was thirteen, at the most pivotal moment of my life, when my father passed away. Mr. Hanover stepped in and did the best he could to guide me through my teenage years.

Had his plane not had a mechanical malfunction on its way to his base, our families wouldn’t have been so close. My mother threw herself into her job even more once we buried him, leaving me to my own devices most of the time. I was proud of her for working so hard and not letting his passing break her.

Asher was the only person who I ever discussed my father with. Everyone always gave me that look. The - poor little Nate King lost his father - look. I would hear their mumbles, “what a shame he’s growing up without a father.” Asher at least would start telling me stories of things he remembered about him. He never let me feel sorry for myself over the whole situation.

I knew my mother would never approve of my flying a plane, which was precisely why I had neglected to tell anyone about the lessons I had been taking. The first time I sat in the cockpit I knew exactly what drew my father to flying. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before in my life. It was something I could see myself doing every day.