Charlie was Six – well Six years, 8 months 2 weeks and 4 days to be precise – almost six & three quarters. For the last 2 years, 8months 2 weeks and 4 days Charlie had kept a secret, Charlie could fly.
It had started all quite accidentally; he was out in the garden when he was four years, eight months, 2 weeks and 4 days old, his cat Bea had run away from him again and scampered up next doors tree.
Charlie stood on the patio table, stood up on his tiptoes and tried to reach her, he stretched and stretched and stretched and then, just when he almost reached her the startled cat ran back down the tree. Charlie couched down to step off the patio table when he realised that he was no longer on the patio table, but was in fact floating high above it next to the tree.
The trouble with suddenly realising that you’re doing something you didn’t know you could do is that the moment you realise you’re doing it, you tend to stop doing it rather suddenly. This is fine if you’re cycling without your stabilisers for the first time or roller skating without holding on to your mum or dads hand, but, if you’re flying or floating as Charlie was, you tend to, well, fall out of the sky! That is how Charlie broke his arm and boy he was in trouble.
He was in trouble for
A) Being in next doors garden when he knew that Mr Johnson would be extremely cross with him and
B) Climbing trees when he knew very well that he wasn’t supposed to.
He had tried to explain what had happened to his mother as she came dashing outside to a broken table and Charlie all caught up in the debris, he tried to explain to his Dad as he drove them all the hospital, he even tried explaining it to the nurse who took his x-ray, the one who gave him his medicine, the one who put the plaster on his arm and the one who pushed him in his wheelchair back to the A&E ward. He didn’t bother explaining it to the Dr as he was, well quite frankly he was sick of telling people when no-one believed him.
Flying has its complications thought Charlie as he sat on top of the Eiffel Tower. He had decided to fly toParis this morning for a quick trip
Charlie flies extremely fast, if you blink you will miss him, a trip to France that would take us an hour in a plane takes Charlie 5minutes.
The problem was Paris was the furthest he had ever flown and now he was so tired he didn’t have the energy to fly home and, he seemed to be drawing quite a crowd below all of whom were wondering what on earth a Six year old child (well Six years, 8 months 2 weeks and 4 days to be precise) was doing on top of the Eiffel Tower in his Pyjamas with his best friend in the world Big Brown Bear. Yep thought Charlie, flying definitely has its complications.
A man in a blue security guard suit came as close as he could to Charlie, they were very high and Charlie was standing on the railings but the man, who was much bigger than Charlie and couldn’t fly was a little scared about falling off, so he wanted to stay on the visitor walkway.
“Bonjour, que faites-vous ici?” hello what are you doing up here? – asked the man
“Um, I don’t speak French” said Charlie
“Oh” said the man “what are you doing up here, how did you get up here”
“I flew, only now I am too tired to fly and, I am stuck here and don’t know how I am going to get home” sobbed Charlie
“Where are your Mum & Dad” asked the man
“They are at home”
“You flew to Paris on a plane on your own?”
Blimey thought Charlie, you’d think whilst I am balancing on the top of Eiffel Tower someone might actually believe that I can fly! “Yes” he said “I flew here on my own”
“Well we need to get you and your teddy down from here, it’s dangerous, you could fall and really hurt yourself, not to mention it’s very cold and you are only wearing your pyjamas”
The man held out a harness and told Charlie to loop it around himself and Big Brown Bear so that he could climb down into the arms of the security guard to be rescued…
Charlie thought to himself, if only I hadn’t flown all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower or if I had flown somewhere else, somewhere closer to home, I only wanted to be high up, I didn’t think that everyone would see me up here, what am I going to do, how am I going to get out of here?!
The man got Charlie into the lift with him, and they started the journey to the bottom of the Eiffel Tower. When they reached the bottom the lift doors opened and the security guard beamed at the people and the camera men who were waiting with their flash bulbs going crazy.
“Its okay, it’s okay” said the security guard, “I have saved him I have saved him”
But in all the commotion the security guard had let go of Charlie’s hand, and being Six years old (Six years, 8 months 2 weeks and 4 days to be precise) he had been able to crawl under peoples legs and make it through the crowd of people, jumped up in the air and like a flash he had flown back home.
As he flew in through his bedroom window he heard his Mum shouting from downstairs.
“Charlie, will you come down stairs now, I will count to three and if you are not here then you are in big big trouble”
Charlie came bounding down the stairs, “sorry mum” he said, he said down at the kitchen table and then he looked at the television in the corner.
“And now to Paris” said the news man “where it appears a young boy has been rescued from the top of the Eiffel Tower”
“Oh look” said Charlie’s mum “that little boy has the same Pyjamas on as you……
If only you knew mum thought Charlie, if only you knew!
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