Irving had isolated himself. He’d been standing off to one side at his self-appointed post, when they brought it in. Parties were not for him. Most gatherings above two people exceeded his social capacity. But today he had a solemn duty, supporting his friend Mike. What he had not been prepared for, was a bouncy castle. Irving watched in tense anticipation as the inflatable monument was erected. Arches, buttresses and parapets of canary yellow plastic took rigid shape from jumbled primordial form. His mind cast back to the summers of his boyhood, of his incessant use of the tiny trampoline his parents got him - a concession for never fulfilling their promise of a bouncy castle for his birthday. But here it was. He could resist the call no longer. He parted the netting and plunged into the shadow cluttered world within. The beginning was tentative, but soon though he found his rhythm, perfect harmony of man and castle. Soon he was in fluid motion, touching the hand of god at each breathless apex, outside of time. The hands spun on the clock, but he had no intention of stopping. The cries of the nanny, the other ‘adults’ with their pleading for him to stop. None of it mattered, the castle had chosen him. The children gawped horrified, one with a broken shoulder. But Mike Jr would always remember the police arresting the strange man who came to his tenth birthday party.
Sue Clayton
10/7/2022 03:15:06 am
I was right there with Irving, bouncing higher and higher. Comments are closed.
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