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

startling fishermen by floating across their mast in blue-black darkness.
    Clementine Light was still strong but much farther away than Jon had thought. Suddenly, he realized the offshore wind that had helped push him to Persiphone and Three Fathom was now strong in his face, holding him back. He kept his nose straight into it and pushed on, knowing he'd be very weary by the time he reached the red cottage.
    After an hour Clementine was still a half mile away, and Jon was nearly exhausted. He told his brain to add another two million cells to the job. As he gradually slipped from thirty feet down to ten, spray from the wave tops peppered his face. His hands felt almost frozen and his feet were numb. Every muscle and bone ached. He was wishing he'd never even
thought
about body flying.
    Why, oh why, had he gone out so far? He thought of his warm, dry bed and his parents. If his brain cells suddenly failed, Jon would splash into the cold ocean and never be seen again. The breeze caught his tears and flung them behind him. With no one to hear, it wouldn't do any good to yell for help.
    Near midnight Jon used his last ounce of energy to lift himself to the top of Clementine and glide down into the grass. He lay still for a moment, panting, but then finally got up and staggered toward the red cottage. He barely had the strength to climb into the window and crawl onto his bed.
    Smacks almost wagged his tail off at the sight of his friend.
    In the morning Jon's mother found him sprawled fully dressed on the yellow pelican spread, sleeping soundly. She left shaking her head.

TWELVE
    JON WAS IN DEEP TROUBLE. OVER THE past three days, he'd levitated several times without calling on a single cell. There was no pattern to it, and he'd had to quickly anchor himself before his parents noticed. The only long-range solution to his problem was to again use telepathy to contact Ling Wu and beg for help.
    The immediate problem was to stop his brain cells from acting on their own. He spent almost an hour thinking about it and then remembered reading an article in
Popular Science
about deep-sea diving. Lead weights were used to pull divers down into the depths. So why not substitute small rocks for weights? Jon decided to try it.
    Just before lunch Jon's father tapped him on the shoulder, and Jon suddenly came off the floor about two inches, the stones in his pants pockets rattling.
    Perplexed once more, Bosun Jeffers asked, "How did you do that?"
    "I just jumped," Jon said nervously, realizing he'd have to add a few more rocks as soon as possible. But people did jump when startled.
    "That was a funny jump. I could swear you just went up into the air. Please do it again."
    Jon's mother was looking on, frowning.
    Hoping he wouldn't go up all the way to the ceiling and bump his head, Jon gave his toes a slight tap and rose six or seven inches.
    "That's amazing!" his father exclaimed. "How did you learn to do that? I've never seen such a thing."
    His mother said, "Jon, do you have gas in your stomach?"
    Jon's face was as red as Ling Wu's gown. "It's easy. I just jump."
    As they all sat down, Jon noticed that his parents were staring suspiciously at him. Worse, every time he moved, the stones rattled. Finally, his father looked all around the room for the source of the noise, and Jon confessed, "I picked up some rocks at the cove."
    "Oh," his father said, clearing his throat and glancing at Jon's mother, a troubled look on his face. His mother's face mirrored the look. Did their nine-year-old son have a sudden physical problem of some kind? Jon was acting like he had a balloon inside him. Was it muscular? Something in his nervous system? Had a spirit invaded his body?
    After lunch Jon got up very carefully. One thing was certain: He needed more anchoring weight. A few steps away from the door, probably because of all the bobbing stress and strain in the kitchen, Jon got the hiccoughs. Every time he went, "Eeglup," he rose several inches into the