Kaza ni Hana: Flowers-in-the-Wind. By Violet LaFleur

"ZOYA! ZoyaaaAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

"Vazratye prama sechaz! Dura prosto! Ya tebe golavu atarvu idi kmimo!!!"

"Vapshe kashmar!! gospitie bozhej moi.."

She screamed behind me, screamed loud, miserable things. Things that I've heard so many times before that I'm just accustomed now. I couldn’t wake up, again. Rather, I wouldn't, I guess. Before I knew it the morning hour had gone by, and she had slammed my door in to tell me off for being such a laze. Screams that bounced off the display china, screams that even the rugs on the wall couldn't soften. I'm guessing the architect who built these apartments only made the walls so thick because they knew one day, my mother would come to reside within them. She didn't know how to do much else except scream.

I knew I would have hell to pay upon my return, but I just couldn't stand it a moment longer. I got dressed as fast as I could, and bolted out the door. I didn't even acknowledge her. She knows enough that her shouting and screeching has already done its poison. By ignoring her it only made her angrier. By acknowledging her it would have only made her furious. There’s not a lot of winning in my life, and I think she knew that. What came first, though? Was it the constant screaming, or the constant losing? I'm not sure which was the cause for the other. But both were always there. And both were unpleasant.

Running was the only thing I could do.

I took a few turns, in proper form sprint. I knew she wasn't chasing me, she didn't have it in her. After I had already gone a few hundred meters, I took a cursory look over my shoulder. Satisfied, I took to a light walk. School bound.

Cherkasy was in that savage hinterland of March and April. Spring's thaw was just on the precipice, taunting when the weather was miserable and teasing when it seemed that the frost had passed. She would sometimes bless us with her sunshine, when feeling especially generous. But still and currently, the city shook the frost off its shoulder the best it could, like a soldier marching in the countryside.

The bus would have been quicker. It would have been warmer, too. But...

The shoves and pushes. The rude Hey!!'s. The Excuse Me!'s if you're lucky. The people passing through and between, rubbing against you. The smell of fifteen people in a single place. The stench of five people in a single place. Cigarettes and mildewy coats. Mud spattered boots, the screech of the brakes and the coughing exhaust.

Shudders. more shudders than the river Dnieper's gales could ever hope to cause. What kind of place is that to subject yourself to? Instead I breathed the frost-touched air. Instead I listened to nothing. And had only myself as company. People weren't out much, right now. The time where everyone is rushing to go to school or work has passed. I slept right through it. And thankfully so. The potholed streets and desolate stretches of concrete are a downer as is. But atleast in the now, it was free for me to navigate. Peacefully.

Do you want to know something silly?

One day, I would like to fly.

Truly and Honestly.

Sometimes, I'll have these dreams. Really, really lovely dreams. They are my favorite dreams. I'll be going about my business, normally. Walking somewhere in the city. But then suddenly, it hits me. And I'll start to run.

10 meters, 15 meters, 20 meters. I'll run, and run and run. Then, I begin gliding. Like a single propeller plane taking off.

And before long, I am in the air. Using the wind beneath to guide me, I can launch myself on updrafts. I can coast on a gentle breeze. The city is a dull and grey thing but from a hundred meters up, it becomes an erupteous monument of architecture. Only from high up above and far, far away from the ground. Only up there can I see everything in a single glance. The river, the city, the rolling farmland and decadent valleys of green. It all comes together like a painted picture.

But even all of that is nothing. Compared to the wind on my skin. Every part of my skin. Compared to launching myself a thousand kilometers an hour at a wave of an arm. Compared to being completely. Wholly. Detached.

And I so desperately want to detach from this Earthen ground...

I broke out of my walk.

Maybe, maybe this time it'll finally work.

I took my form.

Just like in my dreams.

Ten meters

Fifteen meters

Twenty meters

I close my eyes. Chill air rushes past my face. I can see it, I can see the blades of grass and the tops of trees. I can see the valleys and I can feel howling kisses the wind plants against my ski-

Twenty Five meters

...

I slow myself down. And gradually open my eyes.

......

It's always sad when it doesn't work...

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I walked through the backdoor to my first class. It was about 9:30. But its not as if anyone cares, anyway. Not even the teacher. Its not a big deal, I don't understand why she makes it such a big deal...

I didn't pay a lot of attention. I never do. Why should I? So I can go work at the chemical factory? Or if I work really super duper hard, I can go to the IT company? Everyone that works there always looks so miserable. So why should I study and stress myself out, just to end up there for all my days?

"All you do is run! Run and jump like a child! Oh my God, how can such an idiot be my daughter! What is running going to get you? Nothing!"

I tried to put her voice out of my head. It's unpleasant. The teacher went on.

Sometimes, out the window, I'll see a few solitary birds. Sometimes diving, sometimes taking charge and piloting, but always in the air. They aren't scared, and why should they be? Even though they are hundreds of meters up in the air, and the barreling winds are not a gentle force to live with. But they don't panic, not even when the gale blows hard against them. Because that's their home. And they won't look anywhere but ahead.

I bet they would be terrified to learn that there are people who spend their entire lives looking down. Down at books, down at their machines, down at the very ground. "Oh my God!!" A pigeon might say. "What a destitute existence! Featherless wings, never once kissed by the gale. Forced to spend its time bound to the Earth, only able to look up and ponder? Oh heavens, how cruel!!!" A nest of chicks cheep cheep cheep, terrified at the Aesop Fable. They're so thankful that one day soon they'll be out of the nest and in the air, the mother magpie sits content knowing she's instilled some good values to her children. A crow puts his wing up to his head and faints at the very notion. Gosh, what a drama queen. It isn't that bad. Although it's still not that good.

Before long, the shuffles between classes end. The bored, unenthused teachers go back to their homes. The schoolday is over.

"Hey hey, Zoya!!"

Coach Yakov came out after me as I was just about ready to go. We all called him Uncle Yasha. His short chub belly was poking over his polyester trackpants, hidden thankfully underneath a dirty white t-shirt. All balancing precariously on a set of well-worn sneakers. A whistle dangled from his neck. I turned to face him, as he stopped in front of me to catch his breath.

"So, *pantpant* have you thought it through?"

"The, aghh, the team, the team could really use someone as fast as youuu~"

"We've all seen how you can run, but, Zoya, c'mon! There's no sport just for running!"

"out... out on the football field? We can make a mighty, MIGHTY striker out of you!"

This was hardly the first time he asked.

"aaa... Sorry Uncle Yasha, I need to think about it more."

It was hardly the first time I had to turn him down either. I always felt a little bad about it. He's one of the only people I know who really, really cares about something, and he wears his heart openly to boot. And it's always nice to see that from a person.

"well how bout coming to a practice, eh? Just once? You don't even gotta play! Just look around and see if you like it!"

"mmmm... Maybe..."

He gave a disapproving smirk.

"Baaaah, tch tch tch..."

"Flowers-in-the-Wind, you are..."

"No one can catch you~"

He gave a soft smile, his eyelids showing the quiet acceptance of yet another defeat.

"Dytyachi Field, 12PM Saturday"

"there's plenty of running there! I swear! eh? eeeh??"

I stiffled a giggle. He was like a cartoon character. We all loved him for his earnestness.

"Maaaybe Yasha, maybe"

But to him~

"Aha! Maybe is maybe!"

"See you there, 12pm sharp!"

"Aahah, you're gonna be great!"

As he walked off with a victorious gait, I could almost see his fevered thoughts in real time. Wild fantasies of dethroning Lionel Messi, putting me on the pillar as the greatest Football player in the world... thus making him the greatest football coach in the world to boot! He seemed like the kind of guy who lived on his dreams. Maybe you have to be, in a place like this. Even if they never come true.

Maybe I'm not so different...

"Heyyyy Zoya!!"

Mattus and Sasha snapped me out of my thoughts, catching up with me as I left the building.

"Its Friday! we're taking the trolleybus downtown! Wanna come with?"

I definitely don't want to be back home any time soon. Going downtown might be nice. Hopefully I can come back after 5, that way she'll be at work. The Trolleybus.... Well, its usually not as bad as the buses. And being with friends will make it a whole lot easier. Plus... downtown.... there’s something else there that I want to visit...

"...?"

"Zoya?"

!!

"ah! aa umm... y-yes! Ya ya!"

They both laughed a little, teasing as we walked down to the line. They were pretty used to me spacing out at this point. They say I look like I'm floating off somewhere, somewhere far far away.

On the ride into town, I kept thinking about the football invitation. I might, honest I might. But then again, I'm not sure. If he keeps to his promise and lets me watch while they do their thing, then maybe I'll come by. Football could be fun. Problem is, I only really like running for myself. If I joined a sport, well, there would always be someone there telling me WHERE to run. HOW to run. Mmm... You wouldn't tell a falcon how to fly, would you?

We went to a new burger place that opened up. I wasn't that hungry, and I didn't have much money either, so I only had some fries. Plus, I don't like to eat too much in general. And burgers are so so big! What's up with that? I still had fun though, we walked around a bit until Mattus said he had to go back home. Sasha wanted to keep walking around, but I said I've got things to do too. He looked kinda sad. I'm pretty sure Sasha has a crush on me, but I don't like boys too much. Maybe the whole thing was a scheme from Mattus, he's a crafty one for sure. I could hear them tomorrow during class, Sasha all dejected:

"aww man... that's it! game over! There’s no chance..."

"pfft, Don't take it personal dude. She's Flowers-in-the-Wind, probably got a million things on her mind!"

Hehe. Sorry Sash~

If it's any consolation though, I wasn't lying.

I really do have something I need to do.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Central Stadium stood right in the middle of Cherkasy. It was a big, modern stadium. With huge sets of bleachers on all sides. The running ring was all decked out in red rubber, with a great big football field in the middle. It was the Afternoon on a Friday, so no one was around. No one except for me.

Although the city was as busy as it ever gets, there was a quiet peace within the walls of the stadium. Everything else became a buzz, background as the cicadas of summer. Spring showed her kindness, and the afternoon was bathed in a warm, warm glow. I didn't even need my jacket right now.

I was already in comfortable enough clothes. And I always wore sneakers anyway.

I put my bag and jacket down by the side of the field, and I began to run.

Slowly, at first, just a jog. Just to get warmed up. Then, a little bit faster. And faster. Until I was in a steady, steady run.

I passed the first corner. Speed ebbed down, and I'll do so again.

Corner #2. Another dent, but nothing that can't be buffed out.

Now on the straight and narrow. Building up speed. Building up speed.

Step by step. Finally, a sprint. A full sprint. Nothing but open track ahead.

And then.

I close my eyes.

And make a wild, wild jump.

Higher. Farther. As far as I can leap. As high as I can go.

The entire world stops.

I don't hear anything, except for the wind rushing past my head.

I don't feel anything, except for the air on my arms. Indulgently refreshing. Endlessly free.

In this tiny, tiny moment, the ground does not exist.

Every millisecond that I'm in the air like this is more bountifully beautiful than the last. Each fraction of a second needs to be loved. Loved and lavished with a love reserved for it and it alone.

Have you ever thought about it? That the person in the air, and the person on the ground. They are two separate, utterly distinct entities. There is a person who has leapt. And the person who has fallen back down. Each one is boundlessly unique in their own way. Each one has knowledge and presumptions that the other does not. Breaking free of this anchored connection, even for just a second, is enough to change anything and everything. To let you see and hear and feel what its like. What its like to be free. Truly free. Can you ever know that, if you were never on the ground to start?

Eventually though, even a flower in the wind, no matter how graceful and how light, must return to Earth.

I want to run. I want to run, and I want to do it faster, and faster, and faster. I want to jump higher, fly farther.

I know one day, I'll take off.