The Magic Parachute

CHAPTER 1

Once his class was over for the day and everyone was dismissed, the young boy dreaded what was to come. He’d been cuffed around by the older boys on his way to school and now they were waiting outside somewhere... and there was only one way home. As he went through the boulders that started his trek, a foot appeared and down he went. The older fellows kicked him and slapped him across his face. Luckily, he was the fastest kid on the island, so he ran as fast as he could and made it home, where his mother was busy preparing dinner.

His name was Robbie MacKenzie, and he lived on a small sea-bound island known as St. Margaret Island, located west of Scotland at the farthest point of the outer Hebrides. Robbie was small for his twelve years, and quiet. Although some said he was timid, his curly bright red hair and sparkling green eyes said much more about him than anything else, for he was gifted and sensitive, and most of all, kind. He belonged to St. Margaret Island almost as much as all the exiled seabirds. The birds used to live on The Three Sisters—the three large protruding stacs just north of St. Margaret Island. When he would see them flying in the turbulent northern sky, the thought always came to him that he could fly—perhaps not yet, but soon.

The next day, the sky was as beautiful as the day before. Not being able to fly never crossed his mind. It was just that he didn’t know how to yet. One day, he thought as he walked to the one-room schoolhouse in the village. One day, he would learn how to fly, soar above the clouds, swoop down into the water, and watch the world from any stac he chose. Whenever he had those daydreams, he would forget where he was or what he was doing. A small group of Soay sheep were foraging along the rocks as he passed them on his way to school.

A short but distinct 'Bah' by one of the curious sheep didn’t register. He simply continued on in his dream-walking reverie.

Classes were about to start and the frantic high energy of the other children brought Robbie back to reality. However, reality was the last place he wanted to be. He kept his eyes on the ground as he entered the tiny stone building.

As he got to the classroom, four rows of little wooden desks stretched out before him as if they were an endless and awful prison. The students had just entered and were settling down for their lessons. Robbie walked by Charlie Monahan, Billie Adams, and Timothy Tolan. Charlie tried to trip him up, but Robbie had expected it and hopped over the stretched-out leg. The three boys snickered. They called themselves the Punk Pirates.

It seemed inevitable that every school around the world had their bullies. Maybe humans needed bullies early in their lives so they could learn how to deal with them... wasn’t that what education was supposed to do—teach us?

Despite knowing their ways, Robbie attempted to ignore them while still trying to learn about them. He wasn’t afraid, but he was wary that they presented a danger to him.

Robbie had a sixth sense about many things, including bullies. He knew he was much smaller than all of them, so he kept his awareness level high, just in case.

Miss Janice, their teacher, was waiting for everyone to settle in. As soon as Robbie sat down, she tapped her pencil on her desk.

The Punk Pirates kept poking each other and throwing paper balls at everyone. Miss Janice continued to wait—she knew this behavior and let it subside on its own.

Miss Janice was a tall, thin woman whose eyes never missed a thing. After twenty-one years as the island’s only schoolteacher, she learned quickly that her most useful tools were her eyes. Most children had too much energy to sit in class and learn their studies. It was almost impossible, and she knew it. She learned how to balance a little humor, teach surprising facts about St. Margaret Island, and use a firm hand when necessary—although that was always her last resort. She abhorred manhandling children, but she wasn't afraid to do so when pushed.

Miss Janice could sense something stirring. When she looked at Robbie sitting at his desk, she noticed a far-away stare that she’d only seen a few times before. This time, the look was as far away as a young boy could manage. Robbie was a good boy and a bright student but always seemed to be a magnet for trouble. It was never his fault, of course, but trouble always found him.

Class, this morning we’re going to read Chapter One of David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. Each of you will read a page to the rest of the class. For those of you who don’t have a copy of the book, you can use mine.

Moans and groans filled the little classroom as Miss Janice pointed to Betsy Thomas.

Me? asked Betsy, followed by mocking voices.

That will be quite enough, class. Betsy, please start.

Betsy slowly made her way to the front of the class, took Miss Janice’s book, and read.

Chapter One of David Copperfield by Mr. Charles Dickens. I am born whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.

Charlie Monahan’s long legs were stretched out in front of him as Betsy started. He blurted out,

You’re my hero, Betsy. And the rest of the Punk Pirates roared with fake laughter until Miss Janice stopped it in its tracks.

When Betsy handed the book back to Miss Janice and returned to her seat, a pencil came flying from the back of the room, almost hitting the teacher. The class went silent as Miss Janice reached down to pick up the pencil and put it on her desk.

Miss Janice, I saw him throw it, Billie Adams pointed at Robbie accusingly.

The other Punk Pirates chimed in with, I saw him too. It was him. That little dafty.

The rest of the students looked sheepishly at the teacher. Their eyes glanced down and their little hands were on their desks. No one but the Punk Pirates had anything to say. Finally, the class went silent and waited for the teacher to admonish Robbie. She stood up in front of her desk, arms folded, her blue eyes sending anger flashes at the students.

Class, I’m ashamed of all of you. This outrageous behavior will stop immediately or I will talk with all of your parents. We’re here to learn, whether you want to or not. I’m here to teach each of you so that you can make your way into the world and be a success, and I promise you, I will. The entire class will remain here for thirty minutes and be given extra homework because of your abysmal behavior. Now, let’s continue with David Copperfield.

When the lessons for the day were over and the class sat in their seats for the extra thirty minutes of self-reflection, Miss Janice asked Robbie to remain after the other students left. The Punk Pirates snickered loudly at Robbie before leaving.

Miss Janice walked over to Robbie and sat at the desk on his right. It was made for children, but she squeezed into it and stared at him with sympathy.

I think I know you well, Mr. Robbie MacKenzie. And I know your family. I don't believe you threw that pencil, but I want to hear it directly from you. Did you throw it, Robbie?

No, Miss Janice. I would never do something like that, ever.

She observed him. The look on his face spoke loudly of his strength and determination. His hands were clasped in front of him on the top of the desk and he didn’t move.

Before she stood up, she tapped him gently on his back and said, I know, Robbie. I know.

Is that all, Miss Janice?

She smiled proudly at the boy and said, Yes, that’s all, Robbie. Have a good day.

Thank you, Miss Janice. You too.

She stood next to Robbie and hugged him around his shoulders.

Just as he was about to leave, she said, Oh, Robbie, come back for a second. I have something for you.

When he heard Miss Janice calling him, he wanted to pretend that he was too far away and couldn’t hear her. That was his first thought. But then, as usual, his conscience took control. He stopped quickly in his tracks and turned around.

What is it, Miss Janice?

I have a book for you. It’s one I found on my shelves that was given to me by a very dear friend. But, when I heard you talking about flying that day when you were in the school playground and the other children were laughing at you, you didn’t care what they thought. You told them you would fly one day, and I could see that you meant it.

She handed the book to Robbie. Its title was ‘Seabirds of the Hebrides’ by Colin Fornley. Robbie was shocked that she would give him such a beautiful book. He was speechless and held it as if he was saying, ‘Are you sure you want to give this to me?’

The old book was leatherbound and worn from much use. Robbie opened it gently and flicked through it briefly. He peered up at his teacher and knew that she understood him and why he wanted to fly. It was a revelation.

I hope you will read it and learn as much as you can about our birds and our sea. They belong to each other, you know. The seabirds and the sea.

Robbie nodded briefly. He still couldn’t believe his eyes.

One day, Robbie, you will understand our birds and appreciate what they do for us and how much we need them. Now, scoot. Miss Janice turned him around gently and aimed him home. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this happy. He started slowly but ran as fast as he could across the small meadow on the way home.

He wanted to learn how to fly, and he knew the birds could teach him everything he needed to know.

CHAPTER 2

St. Margaret Island was not much over fifteen square miles. Within its perimeter was an amazing variety of mountains, valleys, meadows, soaring stone cliffs and sea caves along its western shoreline, and a small inlet on its eastern flank. The population somehow survived on its meager vegetation and wildlife and weekly supply ships that delivered the bare necessities of life.

Most of the people lived in the small village of Corlin, on the east side of the island next to the small inlet known as Puffin Cove. Many of the inhabitants had homesteaded the old cleits left there by the ancients. Most didn’t remember the great evacuation of 1913, as food and water disappeared after too many years of destroying the seabirds that lived on the island. Some people returned. Those who came back at first took refuge in the small stone storage huts. Some built shacks out of stone and whatever wood was available.

The schoolhouse was three miles from Robbie’s home. He’d stopped running after half a mile or so and couldn’t help but read the beautiful words and paintings in his new book. He was mesmerized and filled with excitement. His hands were shaking with anticipation as the wind turned the pages for him. He liked the random choices and would press his fingers down on those he found most interesting.

Robbie didn’t bother keeping his eyes on the path as he knew it well. No navigation was necessary.

He held the book in front of him and read as he walked. His lips moved as the words made thoughts in his mind. How beautiful the birds were! They were the best flyers in the world, soaring as high as they wanted to go, diving into the sea like feathered spears, and pushing themselves up into the clouds with their catch ready to eat as soon as they landed on the rocky cliffs.

Robbie wanted to be like them more than anything. He dreamed day and night about flying. The feeling was in him. Somehow, he knew just how they felt when they flew high above everything. Now, he would learn everything about them. This book was his treasure. It took him to places he’d never been before. He promised himself he would read it and thank Miss Janice every day.

What Robbie didn’t do was pay attention to the path ahead as he walked because, just to his left, behind a large group of granite boulders, stood the Punk Pirates, waiting for him. They had unfinished business with their favorite target. Charlie Monahan put his hand over Timothy Tolan’s mouth. Tim liked to talk too much, and Charlie wasn’t taking any chances.

They spotted Robbie walking with his new book and nodding his head at every page turned by the swirling winds of the island.

Charlie jumped out first from behind the boulder. Robbie didn’t notice him because he was too engrossed in his book. The larger boy stood directly in front of Robbie until he bumped into him, finally getting his attention.

Well, if it isn’t our little boy who wants to fly, said Charlie. What are you reading, little bird?

Charlie snatched the book out of Robbie’s hands just as Billie and Timothy popped out from behind another boulder, moving in close to block him in.

Charlie held up the book.

"Look, boys, our little bird has a book. Where’d you get it,