I had found a sunny spot in my yard. I was lying on my side letting the rays heat my hair when I felt a cold nose on mine. I looked up to see one of my oldest friends, Baron nuzzling me.
Baron was one of my first friends to ascend to the Bridge. He has been here, away from Mama Monica, for years. In that time he has investigated every possible means to get back to her. “Foley, wake up, I have figured it out.”
It was not unusual for Baron to say this. He always thought he had if figured out until he tried it. I was ready to ignore him. “Foley, I am serious this time. You know how birds can fly from the Bridge to the mortal world?”
“Yes, and I remember when you tried to fly back to your mom and crashed into the river,” I said with my eyes shut.
“We can use the birds to get back home!”
“You tried riding the birds,” I reminded him. “Same result, we fished you out of the river.”
He laid down next to me. “I have been talking to the eagles. I have recruited hundreds of them. And I have made ropes using the vines in the jungle and had the small animals help me make a basket. We get in the basket; the Eagles grab the string with their claws, they fly back out our mom’s house and drop us off.
I sat up. As foolish plans go, this wasn’t bad.
Baron told me to follow him. I had to run to keep up with his German Shepherd strides. We came to a clearing where hundreds of American eagles glided around a basket with an equal amount of ropes tied to it.
Baron put his head down, gently picked me up with his teeth and placed me in the basket. Then he whistled. The eagles flew down, picked up the ropes, and lifted us off the ground.
We flew over the mountains, and the meadows, over my house, and finally the River itself. I grabbed hold of Baron. “You have done it; we are going home!” I said. My mom would be so happy to see me.
The only thing Baron has miscalculated was how long it would take. By the time we saw our houses, the sun had set. Baron was about to tell the eagles to land the basket in my yard when we began to take incoming fire. Thousands of rockets were shot at us. We ducked down in the basket. “I think we flew into a fireworks show,” Baron shouted.
Curses! I hate fireworks!
The spooked eagles let go of the ropes, and we fell into the rockets. Baron and I clung to one another sure we would be exploded. Then we heard a splash, and the basket began to take on water.
We had ended up in the River again.
We swam out of the water and lay on the bank. “I think we would have made it if it wasn’t for the fireworks,” Baron said.
“I don’t know,” I said as my heartbeat slowed to normal. “I think we would always end up back in the river.”
“Yeah,” Baron said. He stood and shook water off his great coat. “If I can get the eagles back do you want to try again?”
I smiled at him. “Of course. What’s a few fireworks and a dunk in the river when you’re trying to get home to mom.”
Brought to you by your stubborn, persistent angels.