Defying Gravity

Defying Gravity

I lay on the ground. My leg felt funny, and my arm was bent backward. George stood on the roof looking down at me.

“Are you alright?” he called to me.

“I think I’m broken.”

“I told you it wouldn’t work.”

The umbrella was still in my hand. We thought the umbrella would be like a parachute. I could jump from the porch roof and float down to the ground.

“It was a good idea, George. It always worked for the Barbies.”

A few days of experiments with dolls we spirited away from our sister’s room led us to believe we could do the same trick.

“But you weigh a lot more than a doll, John.”

“Are you going to stand up there and yell at me or go get help?”

George sat on the roof. “I think I’ll just stay up here for a few more minutes. See if anyone comes looking for you. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

I tried to stand. “I think something broke!”

Mom came out on the porch. “I heard noises. What’s going on?”

“It’s all his idea!” George shouted from the roof.

Mom looked up. “Get off the roof before you fall off!” Then she looked down. “And what’s with you?”

“I fell off. And I think I broke something.”

“Jumping with that umbrella? You boys. Stay here while I get my purse.” Mom stomped off. “Now I have to get a new umbrella.”


W/C 243