FLOATING

A cautionary tale

by

Roy Gould

I could have told the Triage Nurse the truth, of course; how I came to break my wrist. I could have, but I feared that after sending me for an X-Ray and a Cast, I would have been carted off to a Psychiatric Ward instead of going home. So I told her that I tripped on a rug at home and put my hand down to stop myself banging my head and my wrist snapped.

The truth? OK the truth, but you won’t believe it.

My wife had gone out for the evening and I was sitting in my favourite armchair in my study, sipping a Scotch, when I started thinking about my childhood. Nothing new here, I am of an age when my distant past pops up in my head frequently; my dreams are full of half remembered adolescent moments, haphazardly spliced together to make some surrealist movie. Savouring my Whisky, I remembered how I used to float about my parents living room, when I was left alone in the house (in those days kids were left alone sometimes).

 Rising from my chair and placing my drink on the mantelpiece, I stood, legs slightly apart on the rug and told myself to relax,  just as I did all those years ago.  As I did this, the memories came flooding back.  This was how it always started; my feet on the rug, in front of the fireplace. I would slowly start to raise my arms up in front of me and fix my eyes ahead, not really focusing on anything; my vision slightly blurred. Slowly, ever so slowly, I would feel my heels lift from the floor, tilting my body forward. On tiptoe with my arms outstretched, I would wait for the moment when weightlessness took over; the pressure on my toes would start to ease and my feet would leave the ground, tucking up underneath me until I was floating in the air. Parting my arms as if performing a breast stroke, I would gracefully propel myself forward, my hands gently pushing my weightless body over the back of the armchair. Curling myself round, my feet pushing off the ceiling towards the other end of the room, I would float, face up, and flap my legs until my head gently touched the wall.  Placing my hands behind my head, I pushed off towards the door and reaching down to the handle, I’d open it and glide into the hallway. Then I would land and gaze up towards the first floor above.  After a moment, I rose up onto my toes and launched myself up the stairs, paddling on the treads with my hands to propel my weightless body upwards until I reached the top. Here I would land and sit on the top step gazing down into the hallway, exhilarated.