The Midlife Crisis of Commander Invincible: A Novel (Yellow Shoe Fiction) by Neil Connelly

Author:Neil Connelly [Connelly, Neil]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: LSU Press
Published: 2013-08-07T04:00:00+00:00

EIGHT

Navigating a Descent. A Change in Plans. Everyday Crimes.

Okapi Mystery and the Humor of Skunks.

Threat of the Techno-Horde.

Battle in the Food Court.

“Trust me,” I tell Thomas, as we stand on the helipad atop the western rim of the HALO. Behind my teenage son, a red windsock flaps madly, the tail of a desperate fish. Nate sits snugly on my right forearm, his chubby arms locked in a death grip around my neck, and I beckon Thomas with my free hand. “Come on already,” I say. “It’s not like I’m not going to drop you.” When I hear it out loud, the possibility briefly enters my mind, but I keep the smile plastered on my face. Good fathers have confidence in themselves.

Arms crossed, Thomas peers over the side at the city a half-mile below. “Why can’t Ecklar just fly us down in the hovercar?”

“He’s maneuvering the HALO for us. Besides, the hovercar draws too much attention. Look, this is just easier. You and me, we used to do this all the time.”

“I was, like, fifty pounds lighter then,” he says. “And you were—” Rather than finish the sentence and embarrass me, my son falls silent. I’m sure of it now, by the expression on his face: he’s seen those photos of me in Biloxi.

“Tommy’s right. Let’s just take the hovercar,” Nate whines. “It’s cold. I don’t want to do this.” With his hood up and his face planted in my leather jacket, his voice is muffled.

“Enough,” I say. It’s true that Ecklar could give us a ride, but today’s primary mission objective is family unity—a father and his sons together. Flying down as a group should show Thomas that, despite our troubled history and his perception that I’m the next worst thing to a deadbeat dad, I can, literally, carry the weight. I walk over, loop my free arm around Thomas’s waist, and say, “Hang on.”

When we lift off, it’s true, that shoulder aches, and we even tilt a bit like a boat with too many passengers on one side. I should’ve saved my strong arm for Thomas. But I right us pretty quickly, and it’s just over a thousand feet to our destination. I drift us out over the HALO’s sloping side and begin the descent. Nate squeezes my neck to the point where some air is being cut off. He may be weeping. I glance at Thomas only to find his eyes shut tight.

My target is a bank building’s helipad, one of a dozen landing spots where we’ve made arrangements for situations like this. Ecklar piloted the HALO close so I wouldn’t have far to fly, and as my shoulders begin to burn, I’m glad that all this requires is basically controlled falling. I doubt I could accelerate upward or navigate with both boys in my arms. Thomas is heavier than I expected, the crosswinds are a bit stronger, and we’ve floated off course. I strain to give us some lift, put us back on target. We corkscrew upward maybe fifty feet, and my lower back flares.

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