FIRST FLIGHT

Bryan Clark led the way, enveloped in what seemed to be a perfectly natural (to him) blaze, leaving little flame trails in his dust. Adam and Ellis Eve, the twins, were translucent images of their human states, thereby seeming so much lighter; and, either way, it just looked cool to see them flying about as little more than phantoms. Angela Riese (aptly enough, given her beauty and majesty) had sprouted angel wings. A falcon always soaring near her immediate vicinity added to her aura of majesty. Corey Gould seemed to be made of gold and had adopted a golden platform to buzz around on. Vance Artex's lower body had seemed to disappear into a twister that didn't even disturb his stupid cowboy hat to remind us of his place of origins (as if his cringey accent didn't give him away). Then there was me; a homely, portly sixteen-year-old highschool sophomore who's class's highest social castes always did equate to (aptly enough) a blimp.

The others...I...The others and I...WE were...well...flying.

The flight seemed as natural to everyone else as though this pack of twenty-somethings (save Vance; he was 30, and...well...me at 16) were actually in ill-fitting disguises (they could at least have been Gobots or something. My knowledge of cheesy, 80s animation was as limited as my father allowed; but, last we both checked, "flying with the natural grace of a jet+being in disguise=the bad guys.")

...Wow; let me back up here.

In the beginning...

...Too far back.

You see, when a man (Phi Beta Kappa honoree, Tobias Sanders) and a woman (campus beauty queen, Riley Winston-Sanders) REALLY love each other...

...Closer; but not quite.

Hey; I'm Sam (Samson) Sanders. I...I'm a flyer; who just learned about his abilities two weeks ago and...well, met these people.

...If you want historical accuracy, there's a good starting point. Anyway, I digress, when both of my feet were naturally planted on the ground, right where I thought that they'd stay, I had enough trouble fitting in with my classmates. Then, all of a sudden, I...

"...Samuel, this is your inaugural flight and we are ranking you for it. Please try to keep up."

My eyes snapped back to the present; and, at present, my eyes were feasted with the marvelous view of 20-year-old Angela Riese's hind end; and the majestic wings having sprouted from her body. Oops.

"...Samson." I amended, timidly.

Of all of the conversations that I wanted to share with this gorgeous angel among men, my proper first name did not rank among those conversations. However, I had to focus on something present that was not a twenty-year-old coed queen's ample, finely-toned buttocks.

Suddenly, a falcon stuck its beaked face in mine and screamed in my face. I was slightly less amused by Daniel Falcone's "falcon" shape buzzing into my peripheral and scolding me; but I did almost appreciate the distraction for what it was.

"Falcon!" Angel lightly chided our leader (and her boyfriend's) bird-form; then, to me again: "Keep up, Sam."

Falcon gave another squawk, mean-mugged me as best as a majestic falcon could, and planted himself on Angel's shoulder mid-flight. I took it upon myself to gain just enough altitude to fly slightly above the group so as to not stare directly into that beautiful backside any longer; oh, and because flying beneath them might have hurt my score when my place on the team might have been needed one day. Hey, who knew when the flyers could need a stocky, 5'4 individual in his street clothes flying alongside the guy who surrounded himself in flames, the guy who could disguise himself as a natural bird, the oldest of us who whirled around in a hurricane vortex as though it were second nature, the gal who seemed to be made of gold and could project flying golden artifacts for her own use, etc...?

"What makes us flyers, anyway?" I asked.

"Why, our natural inclination of flight, of course!" Adam chortled as he and Ellis flew up alongside my left side (they always had to be side-by-side in flight; or I had the feeling that they would have sandwiched around me).

"No; I mean...where did our power of flight come from?" I persisted. "Why...why do we use it?"

Suddenly, Corey was on my right and at my height. I was forcing my fellow flyers into breaking formation somehow. I hoped that this didn't hurt my image with Falcon; or, specifically, with...well, Angel.

"The explanation for our powers sort of depends on where you stand on such questions as religion or nature vs. nurture." Corey declared. "I suppose that it's not for us to say or understand."

"...and we use our powers to help others as we can." Vance added as he joined the crowd.

"Faster than walking or even driving; and safer on the environment too." added Bryan as he left a flame trail behind him in the sky.

Bryan's very presence served as a reminder that even the seasoned pros in flight still had existential questions. For instance, Bryan was coming to terms with the fact that the name "Human Torch" was taken; and he had argued vehemently against the sophomoric suggestion of "The Human Flamer." (Okay; I, a sophomore, had thrown that one out there. I knew what the response would be; but it was still fun).

===========================

An aircraft flew by as we flew around in broad daylight like that. One window seat housed a little boy of about three. His parents were oblivious to the air outside, preferring instead to pour over a newspaper or liquid nourishment, respectively. Then, the boy gasped in awe as a flaming form sailed passed his window, then a pair of translucent ghosts, and an angel. Then there was me; a guy who was probably dressed as casually as any teen aboard the flight. The boy could only stare at me in awe. I gave a grin, a wave, and a satisfactory salute before I flew passed the plane as Junior tried to get his parents' attention. Vance gave a chuckle as he coasted up alongside me once more on his natural breeze.

"Kid, you'll fit in with us just fine." he informed me.

For the first time in flight, I could sense the same. I...we...were with family here...