The Boy Who Could Fly Without a Motor Read Online Free PDF Page A

that's very dangerous."
    "I won't do it again." Could his levitation get out of control? Ling Wu hadn't mentioned that possibility. And he certainly would have warned him.
    Though maybe not.
    Jon's father nodded, but his frown didn't go away. He shook his head. "That didn't look like a skip to me."
    They went on up, and Jon reminded himself to be more careful in the future. But he hadn't been daydreaming as they climbed. The floating had surprised him as much as it had surprised his father. He was certain he hadn't told himself to float. Maybe his brain was having so much fun with levitation that it was taking control. That was a scary thought. He remembered Ling Wu cautioning him about something. "What was it?
    Perhaps he should try to contact Ling "Wu and ask him what to do. He had no intention of stopping this wonderful, miraculous, sensational, extraordinary, supernatural use of his brain cells. But at the same time, he had to be able to control them.
    THAT NIGHT, AT about ten-thirty, when the Jeffers were sleeping peacefully, Jon pulled on his jeans, a heavy wool shirt, and shoes. Then he put on his warmest jacket and his red wool cap. He said good-bye to Smacks and levitated several feet, straightened out, and passed through the window, crossing over the cove, heading for Persiphone Reef and Three Fathom Shoal.
    Staying about thirty feet above the wave tops, he gazed about him and wondered how fist he was moving. Maybe ten miles an hour, maybe fifteen. The ocean was a mass of dark waves, broken here and there by patches of yellow silver as rollers crested. Now and then Jon could see trails of phosphorus as fish darted beneath the surface.
    Most of his brain, almost all of it, was committed to levitation, but a few million stubborn cells lingered to worry about flight control. Was he his own pilot? His own navigator? But he soon pushed aside those uncomfortable questions and let the excitement of body flying, the pure joy of it, of being an eagle or a hawk, express itself with a shout: "
Wow!
"
    It took just a few minutes to reach Persiphone, which was a long narrow shelf of coral a few thousand yards from Clementine, washed almost constantly by the ocean. He hovered a moment but saw nothing of interest. No ghosts down there.
    Onward to Three Fathom Shoal, a quarter-mile north. Water boiled over the hidden, dangerous ledges capable of slicing a ship's bottom. Then he spotted a bobbing light farther out.
    Positive it was a ship, Jon could not resist the temptation to investigate. It didn't seem too far away. But distances at sea, particularly at night, are often tricky, and the bobbing light was probably another mile west of the shoal.
    Pressing on, watching as fish knifed below him, Jon was not aware that behind him the friendly light of Clementine was growing fainter. Nor was he aware that he was moving with a strong breeze.
    Once, he almost collided with a gull that was beating its way south. Screeching angrily, the gull swerved off, a look of wide surprise in its eyes. Jon reminded himself to be more careful while navigating the night skies.
    Closer, the bobbing light revealed a fishing boat with its nets out. Men were working on the lighted deck. Jon had never had an aerial view of a trawler and found it very interesting. In feet, it was so interesting that before he knew it, the strong breeze had carried him to within a few inches of the mast and, as he passed over the boat, had blown off his red cap.
    "Good lord, what was that?" came a shout from the deck.
    There were more shouts, and Jon knew he'd made a terrible mistake. Suddenly, a spotlight caught him. He saw the feces of a half dozen openmouthed fishermen as he skimmed into the dark on the opposite side of the boat. Ling Wu had said that people weren't accustomed to seeing other people levitate.
    Isn't that the truth,
Jon thought.

ELEVEN
    JON MADE A WIDE CIRCLE AWAY FROM the boat and then headed back for Clementine, having learned that you just don't go about