Christmas—which just happened, in case you missed it—reminds me of yet another incident with my father. We’d traveled to Florida to visit his parents over the Christmas break. My grandparents had retired in Tarpon Springs, and my brothers and I loved those trips to Florida, giving us a break from winter.
This one Christmas, one of my older brothers got a model airplane as a gift. This thing was a behemoth as far as models go, with a three foot long fuselage and a three foot wingspan. If launched properly, it would fly. It was awesome.
The day after Christmas, we went to the beach bright and early, before the crowds, which is how my dad liked to go to the beach. On this particular day, it was downright cold. Remember: we had just come from Cleveland in winter and we thought this beach on the Gulf of Mexico was cold.
First thing on our list was to send my brother’s new model plane on its maiden voyage.
The plane was supposed to be pulled along on a string for a nice, gentle flight, but my father, an engineer and former jet pilot, thought it would work better to launch it with a giant rubber band borrowed from a different toy brought by Santa on that Christmas morning.
He moved away from the water and pointed the plane inland. My father used the better part of his strength to stretch the rubber band and sent the plane on its journey.
Oh boy, did that plane go far.
It immediately climbed straight up and executed an Immelmann, stalling a couple of hundred feet above us before banking and turning as it picked up speed, and turning back towards the Gulf of Mexico.
With a strong tail wind, it was out over the water in seconds. Over our shouts of worry and incredulous amazement, we watched it sail majestically for what seemed an eternity before it landed about 400 feet from shore.
Damned if that plane didn’t sink like a rock.
My brother was upset. No one wants to see their present used by someone else and immediately launched into the Gulf of Mexico. Our father ordered our older brother to go swim out there and retrieve the plane.
It took a few minutes to convince him but, eventually, that brother headed for the water. He got just a few feet from shore and suddenly turned back, stunned by the cold.
No amount of shouting by my father could get him to return to the water.
Dad was clearly disappointed in us; his eldest was afraid of the cold; his next son was upset about a toy plane; and I was just a useless lump of jelly. He must have felt like Henry II, convinced no one would be capable of running his kingdom after he was gone.
Muttering to himself about where he’d gone wrong, Dad stripped off his clothes and walked down to the shore in his boxer shorts. He walked out into the cold gulf waters until he was waist deep—unflinching and without complaint—and dove in to swim the rest of the way.
Once close to the splashdown spot, he repeatedly dove under the water, slipping back and forth like a porpoise, searching for the wreckage. At long last, he located several pieces and carried them to shore.
Shivering in the breeze on shore, he tried to calm my brother by showing how the plane could be repaired. He promised to fix it. He was an engineer, after all. He’d spent much of his youth building model airplanes. This wouldn’t be any harder than that.
I think we all knew it was one of those lies we tell loved ones faced with the loss of a beloved possession. Like my mother’s various Hummels, or the lamps, or her anniversary clock—all broken by us boys—there was no hope, really, to ever restore that plane to anything resembling its unbroken state.
Life is like that sometimes, and we must choose between wallowing in the grief of loss, or moving ahead.
Meanwhile, at My Writing Desk…
It’s been a productive few weeks for me, despite the holidays and visiting with my immediate family and whatnot. You may have noticed this is the first Picayune in over a month, but mostly that’s because I’ve been focused on finishing, and refinishing my next novel, Ashley Undone, which I hope you’ll consider reading and reviewing!
Upcoming Book!
I’m actively looking for advance readers for my new novel, Ashley Undone.
Set in modern Ann Arbor, Ashley Undone is about a young woman who is so desperate to save her father from the clutches of greed that she destroys his business with a RansomWare attack; but she unleashes her stepmother’s fury, and Ashley must fight to save her father’s life.
How do you become an advance reader?
- Get an ebook and side-load it using this link
- Get an ebook as an email attachment by contacting me at “mick@mickeyhadick-11cc4d6.ingress-earth.ewp.live”
- I’ll also have a few paperbacks available, so contact me and ask about that
Maybe You’d Like
This week I’m partnering with sci-fi authors to provide some exciting books!
https://storyoriginapp.com/to/XjVdHjQ
Next Picayune
Thanks for reading the Mickey Picayune. I’ll be back next week, right on the heels of this Picayune, with another edition.
All the best,
Mickey Hadick
P.S. Here’s that link one more time: https://story.mickeyhadick.com/ashley-undone