The Mother/Child Papers: With a new preface by the author

One, to Fly

‹55› One, to Fly The two-year-old flops onto the kitchen floor. He says, I am dead, ma ma and immediately starts to wiggle and giggle. Hiya, hiya he says when he is an Indian. In nursery school what he has is three wishes. One, to fly, and he really wants that a lot. Two, to talk to animals, especially dogs. Three, no more war. When the boys in second-grade recess play Spider Man, kick sand at each other, fight to hurt, he is the littlest. They make him know it. Baby want a bottle, they say when he does not play. The nine-year-old lifts weights with his father. He says Fat Stephen in school punched him but he hit back. He is reading A Wrinkle in Time twice because kids fly in it. ...