Dean

Recent news leaves me thinking of this person I grew up with on good old Death Knolls Road near the corn field. His name was Dean.

Dean was always dressed up like Superman. When we were four, it was no big deal. When we were ten, it seemed a little strange. By the time we were sixteen, well, let’s just say his parents were taking tours of the local mental hospitals.

But Dean said he just felt a special connection to Superman.

Junior year I started spending more time with him because he had entered a Clark Kent phase and looked semi-normal most of the time. He only spoke of krypton every once in awhile. He seemed to be on a good track, and we did a lot together.

Then one day, the hurricane came. Oh, it was windy that day. Cows flying through the air like you wouldn’t believe. Corn literally husked in the air. Dean and I thought it would be fun to take our kite, Kitty Kite, out and watch it REALLY fly.

All I know is that one minute I’m standing there, holding on to Kitty Kite and the next minute I’m flying through the air, holding on to Dean. Dean dressed as Superman. And so, Kitty Kite wasn’t the only thing that flew that day.

I never talked to him again about that day, but news of our trip spread like wildfire through the town. I knew that each of us wondered if it was the hurricane that made us fly, or if maybe Dean really had some powers of his own. Most people called him Hurricane Dean after that, but in my heart he was always Superman.

POST INSPIRED BY:
http://mondaymorningpower.blogspot.com/