Science Fiction for Young Readers, grade 4 up
Story by Terry Gibson ©

     With that smile, the audience was 
caught in a way Tab had not planned.  
Tabitha had Presence.  It was an amazing 
thing, unspoken but felt.  She had become 
an authority, not because she knew her 
facts so well, but because she was a 
charismatic winner, a spell-binder, a 
leader to be followed.
     Spectators and judges, participants 
and teachers, willingly they all followed 
Tab, Mrs. Mallow, Greggy, and several 
members of the media.  Parents who had 
heard wild stories wanted to see it for 
themselves, and outsiders had been enticed
to witness what had been advertised as the 
most startling school event ever.  The ad, 
placed by Mr. Player, had worked to bring 
the world to see history being made.


     Senior administrators attended, 
grimly obliged to refute the insane 
statements of certain teachers at 
Birchdale School.  All were there except 
JP.  She NEEDED him!  How else could she 
justify Mr. P's involvement?  How else 
could she possibly demonstrate it had 
been the great upward force of lift?  
How could he not be there?

     True to his word, Mr. Player had 
delivered the pallet, the sacks of flour,  
and the rope.  They sat near the door.  
She and Greggy would have to do it all by 
themselves and hope the pallet would be 
secure.  They rushed to tie the rope to 
the four corners of the pallet, crossing
it at the centre to hold it level.
     While Greg was completing that task, 
and while the crowd was assembling around 
them, Tabitha put on the leather harness 
that fit over her shoulders.  It held the 
tether cord with the large iron clamp at 
its end, the clamp which would attach 
where the ropes crossed.
     But Mr. P. was not there.  He HAD to 
be there to make the real message come 
through!

                   
     What Greg and Tabitha didn't know 
would have caused them great distress.  
Although there were reporters present from 
three newspapers, the television crew had 
been held up at a railway crossing.  The 
slow-moving train had interminable numbers 
of cars that drifted by, and at the front
of the long line of traffic was Mr. 
Player's little green car, waiting.

                         
     Mrs. Mallow went to her position where 
the church steeple would, by its location, 
show the height to which Tab would rise.  
Flocks of excited little children wanted to 
see Tab's amazing flight again, and 
squeezed into front places.
     The milling and shuffling took a while.
Tab was in no hurry to start, but couldn't 
wait.  She was about to ask someone else to 
collaborate when she spotted him, running.
     Tabitha could have jumped for joy.  
With terrific relief, she clipped her 
tether to the ropes as she saw him easing 
his way through the crowd.
     "This apparatus will be needed for my 
last demonstration," she announced, more 
loudly to carry in the fresh air.  She'd 
been so afraid!  Her smile of relief found 
him and he gave her the high five.  He was 
ready to do what had to be done.


     His presence caused a lot of murmuring 
and turning of heads, as people who had 
spread the scandal expressed their 
disapproval.  He was not welcome, but look, 
was that kid Gregory Gray, running to talk 
with him?  And who was that with him?  
A TEACHER.
     It was Mrs. Gray, Tabitha's MOTHER?  
Protest became a palpable part of the 
audience, and soon there was no one present 
who did not know the story of that man, the 
very one who had made a such a disgusting 
display of his sinful behaviour.
     How could they!  How DARED they 
display him when good people got sick at 
the sight of him?

                         
     Gregory could feel the hate in the 
air, and so he did the only thing he could 
think of.  He took his mother's hand, and 
then on the other side, the hand Mr. Player 
held out to him, and he prayed.  Silently, 
he prayed as the little angel he at times, 
could be...
     He had heard that "God takes care of 
fools and little children," and here they 
all were.  The little children in the front 
rows, and the adults who judged but could 
not see.  He prayed to forgive them all, 
and he prayed that they would even yet come 
to see the goodness of the one they reviled.  
Bit by bit with Greggy's silence, a hush
grew first around him, and then spread into 
the crowd.  In that hush, when more and 
more people saw what they took to be the 
glowing child who would lead them, the 
hate became doubt, and the doubt eased 
them closer to reality.

                         
     The reporters who had fully expected 
the mob to attack the man who probably was 
the notorious Mr. Player, at first did not 
understand what was going on.  Many others 
like Mr. Saxon grew impatient with the 
delay, for there are some who are beyond 
reaching.  Wide smiles among the kids 
should have been a clue, but there were 
many who would not ever recognize what was 
happening as a classic battle of good 
against evil.
     The little kids knew.  "Yea Tabby!" 
one of them called, and others joined in 
asking Tab to show them again how she 
could fly.
     "Soon," Tab promised.  "Soon."
     Reporters noticed and wrote it down.  
Meg Warren was broadly smiling.  Here was 
her "good news" story!  "You can't fool 
little children," she wrote as her lead.

                         
     Tabitha continued as soon as the 
people had settled down.  "This material," 
she said, speaking loudly, and pointing 
to the ropes not yet pulled tight by her 
tether, "will help me show you the next 
step in flight, and in its future 
application in the transport of goods.  
A way to move food, safe water, tents, 
and first-aid materials into impossible 
places after floods, earthquakes, and
storms." She added, "To show you how, 
I hope to lift this load high above your 
heads and place it on the arena roof."
     "Impossible," she heard, and noticed 
the reporters catching it all in tape 
recorders.  Mrs. Mallow was hidden by her 
camcorder, even though the TV cameras had 
set up around her.
     "Naw, can't be done,"
     "How?" someone called out.
     "Well, most of you noticed how I'd 
rise UP" (and she did, among young giggles) 
"during the presentation earlier.  Once I 
was UP--" (now there was no doubt of it, 
for their heads tilted upward and the cords 
were tight,) it caused me all kinds of 
trouble.  I had no idea how to stop 
floating.
    Greggy swung a stick under her feet to 
show it was not a trick.  "Back then 
Greggy and I called them my 'attacks,' 
because I could not control them."
     Here she looked at her teacher and 
said, "Poor Mr. Player found out how 
powerful an attack could be, a nearly 
irresistible FORCE, a force so strong it 
nearly flipped me into outer space."
Silence fell.
     Could she be telling the truth?
     Tab continued, "Except that Mr. Player 
saved my life.  Remember the stories you 
heard?  He saved me by getting me into the 
school before the force carried me away."
     Murmurs of disbelief grew into 
questions and retorts.  "Oh come now!  
Ridiculous!"
     "Since the emergency, I have learned 
how to control it.  As you will soon see."  
Tab looked at Mrs. Mallow, who had been 
taping it all, and then at JP, who stood 
nearby.  To the spectators, she asked, 
"READY?"
     "Yeah!" they called,  "Show me!"
     "Okay,  As you see I have no props 
other than this harness around my 
shoulders, attached to 100 kilograms of 
flour and the pallet.  As my grandma would 
say, that's more than two hundred pounds,
more than the weight of a grown man like--" 
and pointing at JP, "for instance, Mr. 
Player here."
     What could they say?  It was true.
     "When you see that load rise, please 
consider the value of this new way also 
in industrial uses and in air-sea rescues!"  
It had taken her a while to find a good way 
to work Mr. Player into her script but it 
had been so smooth she hoped they would 
not miss the point.
     "My little brother will read my 
prepared statement for you when you can't 
hear me anymore."
     "Oh my," she heard, and heads craned 
forward.  "What does she mean, 'anymore'?"  
Some people laughed; it sounded so wild, 
as if she would disappear or something.
    "You laugh?" Tab said.  "Watch this."
     She stopped for effect, and looked 
at the TV people.  "Come closer so you 
can see there is nothing to push me UP."  
Of course, the word raised Tabitha's 
feet noticeably higher, and there was 
a gasp from the crowd as the pallet 
shifted.  The sudden weight on her 
shoulders hurt a lot but she hid it well.
     News photographers caught the scene 
with flashes of light.  "I want to 
demonstrate the force of this UPward--"  
(She rose some more, and amid flashes, 
dragged the pallet..) "thrust."
     "Naah!  It's just a trick!" Tom-Tom 
called.
     "She can't lift it, weight of a grown 
man!"  Rolph said, but no one walked away.  
     Tabitha almost laughed; Rolph had 
done what alone she could not do for Mr. 
Player, remind... 
     "You don't believe me, do you?  Well 
some of the people in this town seem to 
believe strange things about Mr. Player."  
Then she whispered only for him, "I have 
to say that."
     Loudly she continued, "I'll show you 
that Mr. Player saved my life when he 
carried me into the school.  I couldn't 
control it then, and nearly slipped out 
of his hands and into the sky."
     Tab raised her voice to be heard over 
the murmurs of disbelief.  "I didn't have 
belts to help me, so they said I hugged 
him.  Actually his head was the only place 
I could grab anymore."
     Jeremy Player laughed.  "You little 
brat!"
     "Never mind.  It UPSET us all, but 
I was most UPSET of us all."  The belt 
strained and the load was about to swing 
free of the ground.  The harness had wide 
straps, but on her slender shoulders it 
was a crushing weight even so.  She had 
a moment of doubt, but had to keep going.
The noise had grown so loud that Tab 
shouted, to be heard at all.  "HERE WE 
GO: *UP, UP,* AND--"
     Poor Tabitha!  So sudden and so 
powerful was the shouted pull on the 
weight that she almost blacked out from 
the pain of the straps.  Her breath came 
in short gasps as the belts cut into her 
shoulders, but she called out "AWA-AY!"
to finish the phrase.
     "Oh WOW, look it's UP off the ground!"	
     "I don't believe this."
     Greggy saw the load rise to a 
position well above their heads, and keep 
moving higher still, until Tab said 
"Down-down-down-down-down," and 
it slowed but did not stop, because others 
were using up-words.    As the load swung 
gently side to side Mrs. Mallow caught it 
all on tape.  Tab had already gone higher 
than they had planned.  Much higher.
     "Sorry," she gasped.  "I can't steer 
this thing," but no one could hear her 
among the shouts of "HEY, UP THERE!  HOW'S 
THE WEATHER UP THERE?" and screams of 
"LOOK HOW FAR *UP* SHE IS!" Flashbulbs 
flashed and pandemonium followed as Tabitha 
and her burden rose with ever greater speed 
up past the tops of the utility poles and
she could look down on the shrinking roof 
of the arena.  "Down-down-down-down..." 
did nothing with the crowd's screams of 
"*SHE'S TOO HIGH UP!!*" or to slow the 
accelerating rise.
     Flashes followed her up.

                         
     On the ground, no one could have 
heard Greggy read his script, had he even 
remembered to read it.  He was in shock: 
this was wrong!  Tab had lost control!  
He was scared beyond speaking.  Beside 
him, his mother stood white as a pillar
of salt and as silent, while tears stood 
in Jeremy Player's eyes at Tabitha's 
obvious sacrifice...
     True, no one could possibly 
disbelieve what she had said about hanging 
on to his head, but her cost was too 
horribly high.
     "She's like a sky-hook!" someone said 
into the shocked stillness around him.  
There were no scoffers left.  Grave concern 
was on every face, for no one could FALL 
from such height and hope to live.

                         
     More than fifty metres above them, 
through sets of bright spots in her eyes, 
Tab looked down and saw the crowd pointing 
at her load, and yelling, yelling...  
     The load had swung, but now it was 
also slowly tilting.  With horror, unable
to do anything about it, she joined the 
people below watching it tilt as a rope 
slid loose.  As the tilt increased, the 
slide of the load toward the edge increased 
too.  Now too fast...  It was too late to 
work on flight control.

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