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The kite String Broke

Hannah Gilmartin

    The beach was huge, wide but empty. That was why we had come here today, rather than yesterday, or tomorrow, or next week. We didn’t need other people to be here; we didn’t need their noise or their smiles or their muttered greetings as they passed us by. My father had always preferred solitude, and so did I.
    Perhaps that was the reason why we rarely spoke, even though there was so much to say, especially after last night. Today, we had brought a single kite – a striped triangle, with a yellow sun in the middle – and we took turns to fly it. The wind was strong; it always was here. The huge waves helped us break the silence as we unravelled the string and threw the kite into the air. My father ran a few steps until it caught the wind, his raincoat flapping because he had forgotten to do up any of the buttons. I ran beside him.
    Another wave broke behind us, spilling cold water over our feet and pulling back the pebbles and seaweed. It didn’t matter; I’d left my shoes in the car, though the path to the beach was covered in stones. I knew how to avoid the sharpest ones, and I had not faltered once.
    When it was my turn to hold the kite, I ran on until my father’s figure grew small, and then I turned, ready to run back to him. I stopped for a minute to catch my breath, and watched as he continued to walk towards me, slowly and carefully. There was another reason for our silence today. I knew the decision he wanted me to make, and I knew how long it would take to make it. I paused before beginning to run again, just long enough to look out at the sea, and back to the tall sand dunes behind me. Between the sea, dunes, and the cliffs at the end of the beach, obstacles stood on every side, holding back the sand, but I didn’t feel trapped. Instead, the sea, reaching on forever, and the dunes blocking anything else from view, gave me a sense of new things just out of reach. Perhaps that was why my father had brought me here today.
    I ran back, and it took less time than I thought it would. For just a moment, I remembered what it had been like to run as a little boy, when everything around me seemed so much taller. My new height reminded me that, in the eyes of the law, I would be an adult soon, and running would be an action reserved only for emergencies.
    I handed the kite back to him, but he didn’t move. Without much thought, he tilted his hand to one side, raising it a little, until the brightly coloured kite could twirl in the wind behind him.
    “Did you think about the course we were talking about last night?”
    “Yeah.” Actually, we had barely talked about it, and I had tried to think of it as little as possible. There were so many courses available in so many colleges in so many parts of the country. I had no idea what had led him to suggest this one.
    “What did you decide?” He passed the kite back to me, though he hadn’t moved a step. For the first time, I realised he had been doing more thinking about my future than I had today. The need to decide felt like a tight coat, and I couldn’t get rid of it, no matter how much I tried. Yes, I had been thinking about it for months, years even. But not today. Today, my world had been full of sand and yellow suns, and that had taken more effort than I was willing to admit.
    “I don’t know yet. But I’ll think about it. Promise.” I paused, and he didn’t respond. I couldn’t tell if he was angry, tired or had just started thinking about something else. “Really. I’ve been thinking about it. It’s just a big decision.” I turned to run again, but he caught my arm, and the string that trailed from my hand jerked wildly around, throwing the kite in a violent circle.
    “I know.” His voice was gentle, telling me he made the same crucial decision years ago, that it was hard but it could be done. He never did use words to say it.
    “I was thinking maybe we could talk about one of the other courses tonight.” Without meaning to, I leaned forward as I spoke, nodding my head too enthusiastically. It was my offering for the day, my promise that someday I would learn to make decisions bigger than I was. My father nodded, looking straight at me. Soon, I would be taller than him.
    Another strong gust of wind rushed in, and I pulled the string down a little. The kite strained against my control, trying to pull itself out of my grip. And then, suddenly, the tugging stopped.
    The string trailed from my hand now, and the kite was high above us. A gust of wind blew it out to sea, and it swooped down, then up again, like a bird. If the wind here wasn’t so unpredictable, it would have sunk under the waves. My father nodded, and I knew he would end the conversation now. Finally, the kite fell into the water, floating like a piece of lost clothing, a torn shirt ripped from a drowning man.
    “Go and get it back, and we can fly it some more.” He pointed to where the beach curved around before reaching the cliffs. I would be able to catch the kite at the bend, if I ran quickly.
    “But Dad, the string broke. It won’t fly”
    “We’ll fix it.” He barely paused. “Go on, run.”
    I did. The ground disappeared quickly, stretching out behind me, and I felt like I was flying. The wind drove me forwards, and for a minute I felt like this was all that mattered, that I could get away with never deciding what college to go to, or what to study there, or what I wanted to do afterwards. The multi-coloured shape floating in the sea, still just out of reach, drew my eyes towards it, and I didn’t see the rocks until they were under my feet, making me stumble. I couldn’t see anything but my prize, and I could hear nothing but the wind and my father cheering me on from somewhere far behind me.
    I caught it before it moved past the bend. I saw it coming, had just enough time to roll up the ends of my jeans before stepping into the water to catch it. The waves were usually smaller at this end of the beach, and I had never been able to figure out why. A small ripple brought the kite just within reach. I dragged it out, and it felt heavier than it had before, dripping water onto the sand.
    I began to run again, without waiting for my heartbeat to return to normal. With the wind against me, it took a little longer for me to reach my father. I met him walking slowly in my direction, as though pulled by an invisible thread. He looked at me panting, with my feet covered in damp sand, and smiled.
    We returned home less than ten minutes later, when my father realised he wouldn’t be able to fix the kite there. On the way home, I thought about the decisions I hadn’t made. I thought about the feeling when the kite string broke, when all the resistance suddenly fell away and the kite flew higher than it had when I held it. I thought about it sailing on and on through the sky, out of sight.
    If I hadn’t made a decision today, then perhaps I would tomorrow. If I hadn’t by then, I would next month, and if I thought very hard, maybe sooner. We would talk tonight, like I had promised. My father seemed more at ease than he had before; his hands held the steering wheel in a loose grip as we drove home, and we didn’t talk about college. The kite lay on the back seat, the water draining slowly out of it to soak through the cushion beneath. We would fix it tomorrow, and maybe it would fly again.



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