80 Kites in a Solitary Sky
His touch was light but sure, helping me reg
we guided the kite back to stable heights.
control without taking over. Together,
“You’re doing great,” he encouraged as she managed a small loop.
“It’s too heavy!” she complained.
I stood watching them–Beck steadying Shanice’s hands, both faces tilted upward in shared delight. Something about their easy companionship made my chest ache.
She nodded seriously, gripping the spool with determination.
Years ago, before her condition deteriorated so severely, she’d told me something I clung to: “Even when I don’t seem present, I can feel you’re here. Don’t stop coming.”
“Do you know how to set it up?” Shanice asked, breaking into my thoughts.
“Want to try?” Shanice suddenly called to me. “It’s super fun!”
“No,” I said softly. “She’s with her father today.”
The parking lot was busy with weekend visitors. Families spread picnic blankets on grassy areas. Children chased each other while parents watched indulgently. Kites dotted the sky like colorful birds.
I should go back to my parents‘ house. But the thought of returning to that empty space without Cora seemed unbearable. What would I do there alone? Sit in silence, nursing my wounds?
“How is she today?” I asked, dreading the answer.
I nodded, kneeling to unfold the kite. “I used to fly these with my daughter.”
“Look! It’s flying!” Shanice squealed.
Something about his easy manner, the lack of expectation in his eyes, made the decision easier. “Alright. One kite.”
A tall man approached, expression apologetic. “Shanice, what did I say about talking to
strangers?”
14:51
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80 Kites in a Solitary Sky
On the grassy hill, families dotted the landscape like wildflowers. I felt conspicuously alone until Shanice grabbed my hand.
“The same, I’m afraid. The new medication ha shown significant improvement.”
“I am not terrible,” he protested with mock indignation. “I’m strategically challenged.”
“I’m doing it!” she crowed. “Beck, look! I’m flying it all by myself!”
After ending the call, I sat watching a father help his young daughter launch a butterfly kite. The little girl’s laughter carried across the parking lot. Something twisted inside me as I started the car and headed toward Harmony Nursing Home.
Together they ran, the string paying out behind them. This time, the butterfly caught a current and soared upward, wings gleaming against the blue sky.
“She’s not a stranger anymore,” the child reasoned. “Her name is…” She looked expectantly at me.
I followed, remembering countless kite–flying excursions with Cora. The familiar ache returned. Was she enjoying her ride with Vivienne right now? Would she even notice I wasn’t there waiting when they returned?
A small kiosk near the entrance sold kites of all shapes and sizes. I wandered over, running my fingers along the colorful fabrics. What was I doing here?
The sterile halls of the facility always unsettled me. A nurse greeted me with practiced sympathy.
After moisturizing her hands and combing her hair, I kissed her forehead. “I love you, Mom. I’ll be back in a few days.”
“I don’t have a kite,” I said.
My mother remained still, lost in whatever world her mind now inhabited.
“Hardly,” I demurred, but accepted the string.
“Are you going to buy one?”
“Hi, Mom,” I said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Elara’s POV
14:51
2/6
80 Kites in a Solitary Sky
Her unabashed approach startled a smile from me. “Does it?”
She didn’t turn. Didn’t register my presence at all.
She concentrated fiercely, her small face se us. The kite responded, rising higher.
Shanice tugged at my sleeve. “Will you fly a kite with me? Beck is terrible at it.”
Beck, who had been hanging back, stepped forward. “Need any help?”
The kite wobbled, refusing to gain altitude. I could see Shanice struggling with the strong pull on the line.
Dr. Harrison picked up on the second ring. “Elara, I was just about to call you.”
Once assembled, I handed the spool to Shanice. “Hold this tightly. When I say run, go that way with the wind at your back.”
My hands tightened on the steering wheel. A sign for Willowbrook Wetland Park caught my eye, and on impulse, I turned. I needed to be anywhere but alone with my thoughts.
Shanice took off, her small legs pumping. The kite caught air, rising a few feet before dipping dangerously.
I shook my head, fingers working deftly to secure the cross–struts. “I’ve done this many times.”
She nodded solemnly. “Beck says it’s ‘cause of the aero… aero–dy… something.”
On the drive back, I found myself passing Willowbrook Park again. The kites still soared, families still laughed. Without conscious decision, I pulled into the parking lot and stepped out into the warm afternoon.
The blue butterfly kite was indeed beautiful, its gossamer wings shimmering in the sunlight. The vendor handed it to me with a smile. “Good choice. Perfect day for flying.”
The kite danced and swooped. Gradually, Beck let Shanice take more control, his hands hovering near hers without touching, ready to help if needed.
I closed my eyes briefly. “I’ll stop by this afternoon.”
Their interaction reminded me painfully of Damien with Cora at the equestrian center
14:51
3/6
80 Kites in a Solitary Sky
-the guidance, the shared moment of joy. Except I sensed Beck wasn’t Shanice’s
father. There was an attentiveness in his manner that spoke of chosen care rather than obligation.
Shanice clapped her hands. “Yay!”
Beck caught my eye over her head, his expression warm with appreciation. “You’re a good teacher.”
“Is she here too?” Shanice looked around.
“Keep running!” I called, jogging beside her. “Don’t slow down!”
I found my mother by the window in her room, staring vacantly at the garden outside. Her silver hair, once so like my own, had thinned considerably.
Beck stepped in smoothly, covering her small hands with his. “Let me help. We’ll do it together.”
For a moment, I lost myself in the simple pleasure of controlling the kite, feeling the wind’s moods through the string. Up here, none of my troubles could reach me. I was just a woman with a kite on a sunny day.
Shanice pointed at the kiosk. “You can buy one! The blue butterfly is the prettiest.”
“Cora is learning to ride horses,” I told her, filling the silence. “She’s a natural, apparently.” I arranged her toiletries in the bathroom cabinet. “Work is going well. The new AI interface is finally functioning properly.”
I hesitated, then walked over. Beck offered me the spool with a smile. “Your turn. I hear
you’re an expert.”
I remained in my car, an observer of joy rather than a participant. My phone buzzed–a reminder about my mother’s medication delivery. I’d almost forgotten.
The man–Beck–smiled ruefully. “I’m Beck Lawson. Sorry if she’s bothering you.”
Beck studied my face. “Only if you want to. No pressure.”
“I… I don’t know,” I admitted/
“Hold on!” Beck stepped closer, his hands coming to steady mine.
“Aerodynamics,” a male voice finished.
3
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80 Kites in a Solitary Sky
I held the kite aloft, waiting for a gust. “Ready… run!”
He stepped back with an easy smile. “No problem. These bigger kites can be tricky.”
I hesitated. I’d come here to escape loneliness, not engage with it. Yet something in the girl’s hopeful expression weakened my resolve.
“Thank you,” I said, suddenly aware of how close he stood.
The road stretched endlessly before me as I drove with no particular destination in mind. Just away from the equestrian center. Away from the image of Damien, Vivienne, and Cora–the perfect family portrait that excluded me.
As I watched Shanice navigate her butterfly through the sky, I felt a tiny part of my heart unfurl like a kite catching wind–fragile, hesitant, but reaching upward nonetheless. O
I handed her the spool, helping position her hands. “Remember to feel the wind through the string. The kite talks to you that way.”
Shanice bounced impatiently. “Can I try again?”
“Elara,” I supplied, amused despite myself.
“Wow, you’re good at this,” Shanice observed, watching me execute a gentle figure
eight.
I hoped that was still true.
“She’s having a calm day, Mrs. Thorne.
I sat beside her, unpacking the supplies I’d brought–her favorite lavender lotion, new nightgowns, the soft throw blanket she’d always loved.
“She’s not,” I assured him.
Something inside me softened at his words. When was the last time someone had genuinely appreciated something I’d done? Not as Damien’s wife or Cora’s mother or YodaVision’s co–founder, but just as me?
Outside, I sat in my car, hands gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. The visits always left me feeling hollowed out. Another person I loved, present yet unreachable.
14:51
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30 Kites in a Solitary Sky
“Over here! This spot has the best wind.”
The pull of the kite was stronger than I expected, a living thing tugging toward freedom. I adjusted my grip, feeling the familiar tension through the line.
Then a powerful gust caught the butterfly wings. The spool jerked in my hands, nearly pulling free. The kite dipped alarmingly.
I looked down to find a small girl, perhaps six years old, staring up at me with curious dark eyes.
“You should get the butterfly one. It flies real good.”
No response. There never was anymore.
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