The Man Who Could Fly

By Jay A. Heller

"I can pretty much go anywhere, up down, sideways. I guess I could go to the North Pole, but I have gone to Europe, to Asia and South America. I have never really figured out the ceiling or the exact speeds. I know that I have gone about 600 MPH and haven't really pushed beyond that. I can alter my height pretty quickly but I'm used to it and comfortable."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669808275

Book preview

THE FIRST SESSION

Dr. Salta slumped in his oversized chair, a notepad tightly clenched between his sweaty fists, the Chicago skyline prominent behind him. He looked across the small coffee table in front of him and directed his attention to the client seated on a ruffled leather couch, shifting uncomfortably. The steam from the two coffee mugs gave the immediate area an air of familiarity, diffusing the tension of a first encounter.

Mr. Andrews; welcome to my office. How are you today? I hope that my employer hasn’t made you too uncomfortable?

Mr. Jayson Andrews, still squirming in his seat, looked up and suddenly sat erect on the old black leather couch. He brushed aside a bead of sweat that had started to run down his temple.

"You know I am not comfortable. I am away from my family, in a room that has barred windows. I feel like a criminal, and while I know that I voluntarily agreed to these meetings, I am not quite sure why they are necessary. Spending last night in a government building with minimal accommodations, two armed guards at my door, and no windows, away from my home when I did nothing wrong— this does not make for a good start to the day! Anything I can do to expedite the process and get back to my family, let’s just get it done!"

Dr. Salta placed his right hand up to his ample double chin, giving it a few vigorous strokes. The doctor’s balding head completely disheveled, with the remaining hair standing up at attention, made it difficult for Jayson to devote his full attention. Images of Larry Fine from the Three Stooges came to mind; Jayson felt as if he were speaking to the man’s reincarnation.

"I am sorry, Mr. Andrews. I will talk to the powers that be. Can we talk about why you are here?

Jayson nodded. I appreciate anything you can do to get me out of here, and if it has to be through the process, let’s just get it done. But you have to call me Jayson, or Jay. Mr. Andrews is my father.

Fair enough, Jayson. I have to say in working over forty years for my employer, this situation is a first for me; so forgive me, if I don’t necessarily have a game plan. Maybe we should start from the beginning. When did you first become aware of your ‘gift’?

Jayson pursed his lips and hesitated, flinging his head back without disturbing his dark, curly locks. "Gotta be more specific, Doc. I understand why I am here, to an extent; I knew in the back of my mind that this day would come. You must be referring to my ability to fly?

Yes, Jayson, we are here because my employer has a few concerns and questions about your abilities— specifically, your ability to seemingly take flight. When, and how, did you first become aware of your ability to fly?

"You know, Doc, I have thought about that a lot lately; I guess since my marriage five years ago, the birth of my daughter Julie three years ago, and the impending birth of my son. I remember vividly when I first became aware of this unique part of my life. It had to be twenty-five years ago, when I was seven or eight years old. I remember my family was moving to a new home. My older sister, Marcia, and I were sent to my grandparents to stay for a few weeks while my mom and dad packed up and made sure the new home was in move-in condition. My grandparents, Fred and Rose, lived in a two-flat apartment building that they owned with my aunt and uncle. My grandparents were on the second floor, and my aunt and uncle on the first floor.

Between the floors were two set of stairs, with a landing in between. The landing was illuminated by a round window that had to be six to seven feet off of the ground. When I was going to my grandparents’ after visiting my aunt and uncle one day, I heard a commotion emanating from the street in front of their home. I was curious; I remember looking up at the light coming in from the circular window that could not have been more than one foot in diameter, and then the next thing I knew I was looking out of this window.

I remember seeing a bunch of kids— probably high-school-aged kids— wrapping the next-door neighbors’ trees in toilet paper. I continued to watch for probably fifteen or twenty minutes, and then the kids disbursed. It was at that time that it first occurred to me that I was looking out of a window I normally could not reach. It was a strange sensation, not being able to feel the ground beneath me, and yet my toes were flexing as if they were still reaching to tippy-toe on the floor. I looked down and saw my legs dangling in midair, literally three feet from the floor. I remember looking around to see if anyone else could see me hanging in midair. No one was there, and I started to panic. I knew at that age that this was something that should not happen— unless, of course, you were Superman!" Jayson erupted with laughter.

I remember focusing on the ground as my body, of its own accord, slowly lowered itself back to the floor. Then, I raced up to the apartment above.

Dr. Salta’s head bore down towards the papers in front of him, his face displaying no emotion whatsoever. His next question was quick and direct: "Do you recall elevating at all— or else thinking of elevating— before reaching the full height of the window?"

No. I’ve tried many times to go back and remember what, if anything, might have triggered this event. Nothing. No run-ins with strange insects, no bumps on the head, no lightning bolts. Just thought about the window and, poof! I was at the window. As I was staring down below I recall twisting my shoulders and flexing my legs as if I was jumping, but strangely I found myself already in the air.

After a prolonged delay, again Dr. Salto moved his hand from his chin to covering his mouth as he looked skyward. What happened after you ran to your grandparents’ place? Did you tell them what had just transpired?

I went to the apartment, and the door was open. Back then, the front doors that led to the building and to the stairway were always locked; but the doors to my grandparents’ apartment and my aunt and uncle’s apartment were usually unlocked. I let myself in, and my grandmother was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for that evening. My grandfather wasn’t home, and Marcia was on the telephone in one of the bedrooms. At first, I wanted to tell someone what happened; but, when I got to the apartment, I changed my mind. I’m not sure why; maybe it was because I wasn’t sure what had happened and I knew that if I couldn’t repeat it in front of witnesses, people would just laugh at me and my childish fantasy.

I went to the guest room in the back, which they used as a den, and sat by myself. I put the television on and remember watching a Chicago Cubs game. As I sat there, I looked around and saw no one around so I fixated on a corner where the ceiling met one of the walls. I tried so hard to think of nothing else, thinking that this was way I elevated before. Again, the next thing I knew I was at eye level with that portion of the wall; almost nine feet off the ground. A little panic set in but within a moment I was back to my seat on the couch. I decided then and there that this was real, and this scared me! I was afraid that someone would see me. As I sit here today, I’m not sure why, but at that time I wanted it to keep my flying as my secret until I had a better understanding of what I was doing, no one would know; and I meant no one could be told!

Doctor Salta, his focus remaining squarely on the pages in front of him, interjected: Had you taken any medication, prescription or otherwise, that day?

"No, Doctor, I was eight! Unless you count Flintstones Vitamins. I loved those!"

"Were you able to keep this event to yourself?’

Yeah, I made sure I did. It wasn’t that hard as I didn’t try to duplicate the event. I didn’t want to or try to fly for a while after that day even though I thought about nothing else for a good deal of time. While I was scared, I also must admit it did take over my thoughts. A few weeks went by and while I never forgot what happened I kind of put it off for a while. About three weeks later my fourteen-year-old sister was going on her first date. The family had just moved into our new home, and she was going out with a few friends from the old neighborhood. I remember that she came home at a time that I thought was late.... somewhere around eleven p.m. I had been asleep for about two hours and again when I heard the car doors open, I went to the window. I hadn’t climbed up on the furniture but once again there I was looking out of the window down upon my sister and witnessing her first real kiss. Yuch! Talk about haunting memories! again a little chuckle permeated from Jayson as he watched the stoic response from the Doctor. "I remember for the first time actually lowering back to the ground. I could actually feel my feet come back and caress the ground, softly landing on my toes, and then placing my entire foot firmly on the carpeted floor. I was more nervous now then I was the first time. Now I knew this wasn’t a one-time, obscure occurrence and I was nervous. I was certain I was dying and that I had some inexplicable disease unknown to the world. I needed to talk to someone, but I had a hard time deciding who. As I went back to bed, I thought of who I could talk to. Sometime that evening I decided that it had to be my sister, Marcia. My first inclination had been my mom and dad, but after thinking about it occurred to me that; one, they wouldn’t believe me, or two they would seek medical help of which scared me more! Pardon the inference. At that time, I decided that I would try to hone my craft and then tell my sister, and if need be, show her so she doesn’t think I was crazier than she already did or go running to mom and dad. I had my first plan.’

Still no emotion elicited from Doctor Salta, although he dropped the seemingly empty papers, he was holding onto the coffee table in front of him and fell back into his chair, sipping on the coffee from one of the mugs. "Did you follow up on your plan? Did you talk to your sister?

Jayson "Not immediately. For a few weeks, I tried to see if I had any control of this crazy activity, or to see if I had any control of these episodes. I often tried to get myself alone in the yard, the basement or my bedroom. I avoided any place where I thought someone could see me. Slowly I found that I had control of this elevating. I could go up, and I could go down at whatever pace I decided in my mind. _At first it was a few feet, five the most, but by the end of the two to three weeks I was able to elevate myself to rooftop, so it had to be twenty feet off of the ground. I still had no ability to go sideways, but straight up and straight down, varying the speeds, I had no problems! A smile creased his face.

The Doctor took it all in without making any notes and rarely looking directly at Jayson. "So, did you talk to your sister, or anyone?

After a deep sign and a glance around the room Jayson returned to his eye contact with Doctor Salta. About three weeks after her first date, and almost 2 months after my first experience with the elevation, I decided I need to talk to her, but I still needed to formulate a plan as to how to tell her. I remember it was early evening after I finished a little league game I came home. My Mom and Dad and I went out for ice cream, not the yogurt kind but the real live ice cream at a restaurant that specialized in ice cream creations. When we got home my mom wanted to wash my uniform for the game the next night, and my dad retired to watch the Cub game, figuring even their brand of baseball was better than he just saw out on the school yard diamond; remember we were eight years old! After showering I went to my sister’s bedroom where she was laying on the top of her bed reading a book. I went in unnoticed and then to draw her attention I stopped walked back outside of her room and I knocked on the opened door. I popped my head in and noticed that she was looking at me in a very strange way, like I was invading a foreign province. I asked her if I could talk to her, and she sat up and waved me in. I remember the strange look on her face as I closed the door behind me. I sat on the foot of the bed and started to tell her what happened at my grandparents and then followed up with the night of her first date. She looked at me like I was making this up and was bothering her downtime when she liked to cuddle up with a book. I explained to her that I thought that would be her reaction and I had a plan to prove to her what I was saying. I handed her a blank sheet of paper and asked to write something on and hold it up to the window of her second-floor bedroom. Keep the print small I told her so that it could not be read from below. I was going outside and would read it and then tell her what it said. She reluctantly agreed. I left the room and rushed out to the backyard without anybody seeing me in my pajama bottoms and my baseball jacket. I waited a few minutes and then saw the paper rise to the window. I positioned myself and then at will; started to elevate towards her bedroom window. When I arrived there, I saw the paper taped to the window with the written words you are a freak and need help! I then saw the look on Marcia’s face as she peered out of the next windowpane and saw me at eye level. The first person that saw me elevate. I quickly lowered myself and ran into the house and directly to her room to find her waiting with her mouth open and her eyes glaring. She grabbed me and pulled me into her room and closed the door quickly You said I was a freak and need help I told her I was scared and don’t need help, I need someone to share it with and to help me understand what it is, how I can use it and help me keep it a secret. She kept staring at me and didn’t say a word. I remember her first words, when did you start to fly? I didn’t wait too long to answer. I told her I couldn’t fly, at least yet. I was only able to go up and down, but in the short time between our visit of Grandma’s and tonight I progressed a great deal. I developed some control. She told me that at all costs we must keep this to ourselves, including the parents, for the present time and that she would work with me to see the depths of the discovery, what exactly I can do, but wanted to move more slowly. She cautioned me that I could get hurt, that there was a lot we didn’t know and need to find out. This was the first and only person I told for a good long while."

At long last, Doctor Salta was genuinely interested. For the first time Dr. Salta peered up from his papers and made eye-contact with Jayson; actually, letting out a half-smile in the instant Would you like something to eat or drink, or do you need a break? Jayson thought it was strange that the Doctor was looking upward as he spoke, seemingly addressing the ceiling.

No, thanks; I’d like to move along. I really want to go home. Jayson noticed that the Doctor seemed to be concentrating elsewhere for a moment before returning to their conversation.

"Jayson, I don’t think we will go too much longer today. I’d like to pick it up tomorrow morning and move along incrementally. I know this means you’ll have to endure a little more hardship in the sense of governmental hospitality, but I promise you I will try to get the necessary investigation done as quickly as we, as I can. Let’s finish with what happened in the evening, okay?

"Alright, I guess will pick it up tomorrow; but promise you’ll at least try to upgrade the accommodations for me? Do you want to stop right here on should I go on?

With a simple hand gesture Dr. Salta asked Jayson to continue, never making a verbal acknowledgement.

"Okay then! after Marcia and I agreed to keep our secret, she took a much greater interest in me. We had a schedule; she was very organized and went to great lengths to protect the secret. At least twice a week, we would have time to ourselves and ‘develop my skill,’ as she put it. She wanted to test the limits and perfect what I was capable of. It seemed like a great deal of time; but my sister was almost five years older than me and, in the years just prior to this, we had had very little to do with each other. So, I welcomed the chance to spend some more time with her.

I remember pinky-swearing that evening