HOME | DD

Description
GALE HALEY MCCREAN - A.i.r.b.o.r.n.

The first time I was on an airplane wasn't when I came to live here. Nope. It's was much earlier than that. When I was four years old, my dad brought me to a fair. Y'know, the regular petting zoo and crafts tables and all that. It was just me back then, no younger brothers yet.
It was almost around the time where I was dared to jump into the lake and end up realizing that I am a good swimmer, especially in dire life-or-death situations.
My dad went to go and see if there were any more games that I could play to win things, I was pretty good at them. Then again, luck is one of my specialties, in case you haven't noticed yet already.
Anyway, my dad left little me alone; and it's not like you think. Where I came from, the fields were the safest place to be, well, during daylight anyway. Stay out late and the ghouls would get you, y'know?
So, I ran out into the field, loving the wind on my face. And that's when I met the man. He had a string in his hand that was taught and I followed the twine up into the sky. There I saw a kite, it was bright yellow, green and orange in the shape of a seagull. I watched the rare sunlight filter through the colors, my mouth open wide enough for a bird to fly in and make a nest in my mouth.
Yeah, surprisingly I had a big mouth.
The older fellow noticed me, and smiled. He had pale leather-colored skin and smile wrinkles crinkling the featers on his face, around his clear grey-blue eyes. His eyes were animated and vivid with life, and gleaming with a wisdom far beyond my years, maybe he could've still to this day. He had a regular getup most old men wore and still wear in Ireland, and his kite was amazing, as if he just bought it. He had white tufted hair poking out from underneath his hat and a thick white mustache.
"Hey, there, lad." I clearly remember his voice, I kinda hope to this day that my voice will sound like that when I get that old, "You never see a kite a'fore?"
I looked up into his eyes, mine wide with awe and wonder, "A kite? That thing up in the sky?"
The man nodded, "Aye, it can soar as far up as the heavens, sometimes even further."
I remember fixing my gaze on it at that moment, trying to picture that, "Wow...In-cre-di-ble!" I was still trying to learn big words, incredible was one of my first five syllable words. I learned it from a Disney cartoon, I think. That was kinda far ago.
The man's mustache twitched, and under it his lips curled into a smile, he walked over and got down on a knee to get to my level. He held the wooden handle wrapped with more string out to me, and I didn't hesitate at all as my little fingers curled around the wood and took the reigns. It was like a rite of passage, the man was like Aleous, the God of the winds in mythology, and he was passing rites to me. He taught me so much about kites and aerodynamics, I was surprised that not much time passed at all.
"You are very good with the wind, lad." The man's voice reminded me of the winds of a thunderstorm. Strong and somewhat reasurring, but could explode into a powerful storm if he or the ones he loves were threatened. "You carry it in you."
I looked up at him like he was an enigma, like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, "What?"
The old man pointed a skinny finger, thin and pale scars from years of hard work trace up the skin, at my chest where my heart is. "In your heart, you hold the bravery your ancestors passed down to ya. You were born to master the wind, lad. Don't let your ancestors down."
"I won't!" Most of this was too big for my little kid mind to understand, but I understood the importance, the sincerity of his words, "Promise."
"Promise, do ya?"
I crossed my fingers over my heart, "Cross my heart, mister."
The man grinned at me, his teeth yellowed but not as crooked as you'd think. I still can't believe how much of this I actually remember. My father came up at that very moment.
"Terribly sorry, sir." My dad put a hand on my head, his palm covering the top of my hair, "Was Gale here bothering you?"
The man stands to look at my father, one of the first who I've met that was the same height as him, "Not at all! I was just talking to him about kites and the air."
"Oh," My dad smiled at the man, he felt his warmth in his spirit just like I had, even at such a young age. "Then thank you for watching Gale, and teachin' him how to fly a kite? Impressive." He rubbed my head, "What do you say, Gale?"
I grinned up at the man, "Thank ya!"
The man smiled at me, "Your name is Gale, young one?"
"Aye!" I responded, chirping, "Gale Haley McCrean!"
The man grinned again, the spark in his eye brighter, "You were destined for the air, young Gale." He then looked at my dad, "How about we show Gale how we can fly like a kite?"
"You don't say?" My father was just a curious as I was, or maybe I was just as curious as he was...dunno, "And how, good sir?"
"Please, call me Mr. Brady." The man waved a hand dismissively, as if he knew us for forever, "You ever heard of the hot air balloon?"
And that's how I was first in the air myself. Not watching a lost balloon soar to the skies or see the clouds drifting lazily in the breeze, but in the woven basket of a sweet dirt-smelling balloon, along with the smell of the fire in the balloon's hull. That's the smell I always use to remember this, I see Mr. Brady's grin every time I smell it now.
My dad stood in the basket, smiling at my expression as he held me, since standing in the basket I couldn't ever see yet. Mr. Brady, even though being his age, lifted me up to pull the cord to make the balloon go higher. The heat from the flame curled in my air and rubbed my cheeks, but the cold slap of wind made my already freckled skin rosy. A rush tingled from the tips of the hair on my head to the very very tips of my toes in my sneakers. It was a feeling that you should try, I can't ever really explain how alive I felt, how amazing it was to see everything from such a different angle, from so high up, after being the little guy for well really my whole life at that point. I felt like the entire world was mine to see and behold.
That...everything the light touched was mine.
My father took me to see Mr. Brady and be on the balloon as much as he possibly could, and soon he became a close family friend. That last birthday I had in Ireland? He was there, he gave me...what did he give me?
Oh yeah, the compass that I have at the bottom of my desk somewhere...I should go and find it. Along with the pictures from those times. Hang them up where they deserve to be seen.
He came to say goodbye when we were leaving for America. I remember how much my eyes stung from the water pouring out. I ran from my mother's side to hug his legs, and begged him to come with me.
He patted my head and smiled, going down on one knee to be at my level again, although I was already a few inches taller than that level. He grinned at me, "Gale, I am tied to this land, while you are tied to the air. Go wherever the wind takes you, embrace whatever life throws at you. Just never forget who you are."
"..." I sniffled, "My name is Gale Haley McCrean."
He nodded and chuckled, "Right, and do you know what your name means? Gale is a wind, a strong one at that. Haley, is well your middle name, hold onto it. And McCrean, ean is a meaning of air. You were born as part of the air, never let that escape you." He ruffled my hair, "You are destined for greatness, Gale. A leader. Don't ever forget it, and I expect a letter as soon as you get to America."
The plane ride there wasn't anywhere near as thrilling as the hot air balloon, also not as fun, being stuck in the stuffy area for that long wasn't good for an ADHD kid like me. But, I held that promise. I held it with all of my heart. I mailed him every week, every Sunday for over two years, and he would write back. I even got to call him a few times. And in honor of him, I grew to love the air even more. I began to trick, saved up Christmas after Christmas and Birthday after Birthday money for my trampoline, and helped my father build my perch, years after I made my vow I kept at it.
Oh, that's right, my vow.
I think this is the hardest to remember. The last call I got was a month before my final letter from Mr. Brady. I was around six, he sounded so weak on the phone, but happy all the same to hear from me. Then I got his final letter:
"Gale,
I'm glad you've kept your promise to me. I hope you are still loving the air," his scrawl, I still have that letter somewhere, was tight and constricted, I could and can still see his pain through the paper, "and I don't even think I need to hope. I can hear it in your voice and read it in your letters, and your writing is becoming amazing to be honest. I think our first meeting was of fate, to show you the path to your life and to help me find the end of my reason. Thank you for being my friend, and letting me pass the passion of the skies onto you. If you ever need me, you know where to look.
Mr. Brady"
I knew he was gone, but I didn't know what that 'gone' meant for a while. Either way, it hurt like nothing I've ever felt before, well, until what Penny did to me. But, I still kept my love of the air for him, drawn to wherever the wind took me and take whatever it handed me. So far, it's given me challenges and gifts...
Jay and Axelia, the DHi project...meeting Waverly, an enigma of Air all on her own...
Mr. Brady had told me once that I was going to be a leader.
I wonder if this is what he meant, but either way, I hope I do him proud.
I hope I never give up on that vow, either.

Description
GALE HALEY MCCREAN - A.i.r.b.o.r.n.

The first time I was on an airplane wasn't when I came to live here. Nope. It's was much earlier than that. When I was four years old, my dad brought me to a fair. Y'know, the regular petting zoo and crafts tables and all that. It was just me back then, no younger brothers yet.
It was almost around the time where I was dared to jump into the lake and end up realizing that I am a good swimmer, especially in dire life-or-death situations.
My dad went to go and see if there were any more games that I could play to win things, I was pretty good at them. Then again, luck is one of my specialties, in case you haven't noticed yet already.
Anyway, my dad left little me alone; and it's not like you think. Where I came from, the fields were the safest place to be, well, during daylight anyway. Stay out late and the ghouls would get you, y'know?
So, I ran out into the field, loving the wind on my face. And that's when I met the man. He had a string in his hand that was taught and I followed the twine up into the sky. There I saw a kite, it was bright yellow, green and orange in the shape of a seagull. I watched the rare sunlight filter through the colors, my mouth open wide enough for a bird to fly in and make a nest in my mouth.
Yeah, surprisingly I had a big mouth.
The older fellow noticed me, and smiled. He had pale leather-colored skin and smile wrinkles crinkling the featers on his face, around his clear grey-blue eyes. His eyes were animated and vivid with life, and gleaming with a wisdom far beyond my years, maybe he could've still to this day. He had a regular getup most old men wore and still wear in Ireland, and his kite was amazing, as if he just bought it. He had white tufted hair poking out from underneath his hat and a thick white mustache.
"Hey, there, lad." I clearly remember his voice, I kinda hope to this day that my voice will sound like that when I get that old, "You never see a kite a'fore?"
I looked up into his eyes, mine wide with awe and wonder, "A kite? That thing up in the sky?"
The man nodded, "Aye, it can soar as far up as the heavens, sometimes even further."
I remember fixing my gaze on it at that moment, trying to picture that, "Wow...In-cre-di-ble!" I was still trying to learn big words, incredible was one of my first five syllable words. I learned it from a Disney cartoon, I think. That was kinda far ago.
The man's mustache twitched, and under it his lips curled into a smile, he walked over and got down on a knee to get to my level. He held the wooden handle wrapped with more string out to me, and I didn't hesitate at all as my little fingers curled around the wood and took the reigns. It was like a rite of passage, the man was like Aleous, the God of the winds in mythology, and he was passing rites to me. He taught me so much about kites and aerodynamics, I was surprised that not much time passed at all.
"You are very good with the wind, lad." The man's voice reminded me of the winds of a thunderstorm. Strong and somewhat reasurring, but could explode into a powerful storm if he or the ones he loves were threatened. "You carry it in you."
I looked up at him like he was an enigma, like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, "What?"
The old man pointed a skinny finger, thin and pale scars from years of hard work trace up the skin, at my chest where my heart is. "In your heart, you hold the bravery your ancestors passed down to ya. You were born to master the wind, lad. Don't let your ancestors down."
"I won't!" Most of this was too big for my little kid mind to understand, but I understood the importance, the sincerity of his words, "Promise."
"Promise, do ya?"
I crossed my fingers over my heart, "Cross my heart, mister."
The man grinned at me, his teeth yellowed but not as crooked as you'd think. I still can't believe how much of this I actually remember. My father came up at that very moment.
"Terribly sorry, sir." My dad put a hand on my head, his palm covering the top of my hair, "Was Gale here bothering you?"
The man stands to look at my father, one of the first who I've met that was the same height as him, "Not at all! I was just talking to him about kites and the air."
"Oh," My dad smiled at the man, he felt his warmth in his spirit just like I had, even at such a young age. "Then thank you for watching Gale, and teachin' him how to fly a kite? Impressive." He rubbed my head, "What do you say, Gale?"
I grinned up at the man, "Thank ya!"
The man smiled at me, "Your name is Gale, young one?"
"Aye!" I responded, chirping, "Gale Haley McCrean!"
The man grinned again, the spark in his eye brighter, "You were destined for the air, young Gale." He then looked at my dad, "How about we show Gale how we can fly like a kite?"
"You don't say?" My father was just a curious as I was, or maybe I was just as curious as he was...dunno, "And how, good sir?"
"Please, call me Mr. Brady." The man waved a hand dismissively, as if he knew us for forever, "You ever heard of the hot air balloon?"
And that's how I was first in the air myself. Not watching a lost balloon soar to the skies or see the clouds drifting lazily in the breeze, but in the woven basket of a sweet dirt-smelling balloon, along with the smell of the fire in the balloon's hull. That's the smell I always use to remember this, I see Mr. Brady's grin every time I smell it now.
My dad stood in the basket, smiling at my expression as he held me, since standing in the basket I couldn't ever see yet. Mr. Brady, even though being his age, lifted me up to pull the cord to make the balloon go higher. The heat from the flame curled in my air and rubbed my cheeks, but the cold slap of wind made my already freckled skin rosy. A rush tingled from the tips of the hair on my head to the very very tips of my toes in my sneakers. It was a feeling that you should try, I can't ever really explain how alive I felt, how amazing it was to see everything from such a different angle, from so high up, after being the little guy for well really my whole life at that point. I felt like the entire world was mine to see and behold.
That...everything the light touched was mine.
My father took me to see Mr. Brady and be on the balloon as much as he possibly could, and soon he became a close family friend. That last birthday I had in Ireland? He was there, he gave me...what did he give me?
Oh yeah, the compass that I have at the bottom of my desk somewhere...I should go and find it. Along with the pictures from those times. Hang them up where they deserve to be seen.
He came to say goodbye when we were leaving for America. I remember how much my eyes stung from the water pouring out. I ran from my mother's side to hug his legs, and begged him to come with me.
He patted my head and smiled, going down on one knee to be at my level again, although I was already a few inches taller than that level. He grinned at me, "Gale, I am tied to this land, while you are tied to the air. Go wherever the wind takes you, embrace whatever life throws at you. Just never forget who you are."
"..." I sniffled, "My name is Gale Haley McCrean."
He nodded and chuckled, "Right, and do you know what your name means? Gale is a wind, a strong one at that. Haley, is well your middle name, hold onto it. And McCrean, ean is a meaning of air. You were born as part of the air, never let that escape you." He ruffled my hair, "You are destined for greatness, Gale. A leader. Don't ever forget it, and I expect a letter as soon as you get to America."
The plane ride there wasn't anywhere near as thrilling as the hot air balloon, also not as fun, being stuck in the stuffy area for that long wasn't good for an ADHD kid like me. But, I held that promise. I held it with all of my heart. I mailed him every week, every Sunday for over two years, and he would write back. I even got to call him a few times. And in honor of him, I grew to love the air even more. I began to trick, saved up Christmas after Christmas and Birthday after Birthday money for my trampoline, and helped my father build my perch, years after I made my vow I kept at it.
Oh, that's right, my vow.
I think this is the hardest to remember. The last call I got was a month before my final letter from Mr. Brady. I was around six, he sounded so weak on the phone, but happy all the same to hear from me. Then I got his final letter:
"Gale,
I'm glad you've kept your promise to me. I hope you are still loving the air," his scrawl, I still have that letter somewhere, was tight and constricted, I could and can still see his pain through the paper, "and I don't even think I need to hope. I can hear it in your voice and read it in your letters, and your writing is becoming amazing to be honest. I think our first meeting was of fate, to show you the path to your life and to help me find the end of my reason. Thank you for being my friend, and letting me pass the passion of the skies onto you. If you ever need me, you know where to look.
Mr. Brady"
I knew he was gone, but I didn't know what that 'gone' meant for a while. Either way, it hurt like nothing I've ever felt before, well, until what Penny did to me. But, I still kept my love of the air for him, drawn to wherever the wind took me and take whatever it handed me. So far, it's given me challenges and gifts...
Jay and Axelia, the DHi project...meeting Waverly, an enigma of Air all on her own...
Mr. Brady had told me once that I was going to be a leader.
I wonder if this is what he meant, but either way, I hope I do him proud.
I hope I never give up on that vow, either.