Chapter 1 – The Fall

"Lewis, you do realise that it is only a five minute walk to the park, correct?"

"Yes, mum, but you said that last year and we nearly missed the first event."

"Fair point," his mother conceded. "Still, there is no reason to leave two hours early. Besides, you know your father won't be able to run very well on no sleep."

"Couldn't we just set back his alarm a bit?"

"No. Why don't you go work on making him a real champion's breakfast instead."

"Very well, but don't blame me if this is the year we come out on the bottom at the family fair."

Three batches of eggs and eight pieces of burnt toast later, the little family was on its way. As they walked the few short blocks to the town park they waved to many of their neighbours, joking that they would see them in few hours when the fair actually began. Lewis heard nothing of this, however, as he was too busy running ahead to make sure that they wouldn't be late, then running back to hurry his parents along.

"Tom, I do believe you are going to have to carry him, or he'll do another five laps before we even get there," Mrs. Moore told her husband.

Laughing, the tall man agreed, and he scooped up his son so that he might ride on his shoulders. Many an eleven-year-old boy, would have minded such an arrangement, but though Lewis put on a show – pulling his father's messy brown hair (which was much like his own) and such – he actually rather enjoyed it. Sitting so high, it felt as if he were flying, as if he had been freed from all of his earthbound clumsiness. Indeed, there were no wastebaskets he could knock over up here (quite unlike the three rubbish bins he had already run into that morning).

At last the family arrived at the much anticipated fair, and Lewis scrambled down from his father's shoulders, his eyes wide open as he tried to take it all in. There were almost twenty colourful booths offering games, fortune telling, crafts, ten different types of food, and, at the very end of the row, the chance to sign up for the competition. It was towards this last table that Lewis half-dragged his parents, making sure that their names were the very first on the form.

Two hours later, old Mr. Donovan's voice rang out across the park, "All competitors please report to the starting line."

Mr. and Mrs. Moore turned to their son, smiling as they half expected him to be at the line already. To their surprise, however, he seemed frozen in place.

"Hurry up now Lewis. It wouldn't do for the boy who arrived two hours early to be late for the start of the race. The sleep your mum and I missed will have all been for naught," Mr. Moore teased.

Lewis hesitated. "It's just that there are so many other things to do today, and I wouldn't want us to miss out on us trying anything."

As Mr. Moore laughed again, his wife knelt down to talk to her son and told him, "Lewis, you have nothing to worry about. Last year's accident is long forgotten – look, Mr. Donovan's hair has all grown back – and nothing is going to happen this year. Besides, you can't hide forever."

"No, but I could move to China."

"Not anytime soon, son," his father interjected, "now, let's go before they actually do begin without us."

With that the pair walked over to the starting line, ignoring the worried look Mr. Donovan was giving them and began stretching and readying themselves for the obstacle course.

Before they knew it, Mr. Donovan had blown his whistle and they were off. After only a small stumble in the first part of the race, the Moore men caught up to the other families. Indeed, as the passed through the tyres, Lewis started to think that they might even place this year.

Yet, as he clambered up the rock wall, Lewis began to feel nervous, his fear of heights overcoming him. Only ten metres off the ground his limbs started to move more slowly and he began to hesitate more and more between each new hold. The higher he climbed, the worse it got, and by the time he was thirty metres in the air there was nothing to be done for it. Lewis was stuck, and all the coaxing in the world could not convince him to climb the last three metres to the top.

Before long, he heard the cheers that meant that the race was over, that some other, less afraid child and his father had claimed this year's trophy. Yet, still, Lewis remained where he was, for the same paralysis that meant he could not finish the climb, prevented him from going down as well. After half an hour, a crowd had gathered, worried mothers whispering amongst themselves and boys sniggering as they mocked Lewis's latest failure. Still Lewis remained where he was.

Eventually, Mr. Wood, who had just won the race, declared to the sizable crowd that he would climb up and rescue the boy. The crowd cheered their twice hero as he fitted his harness and began his ascent, then fell into an anxious silence as he approached the boy.

Lewis, for his part, continued to tremble, so much in fact that he almost didn't notice Mr. Wood's approach and that when he did arrive, he had to ask him to repeat his instructions twice. Eventually though, he understood what the burly man was saying.

"Son, I need you to unhook your harness from the rope and attach it to mine. Don't worry. I'll hold onto you so you don't fall. Just make sure that you don't look down as you do it. It will be much easier that way."

With that, Mr. Wood took a firm hold of Lewis's arms, and as his paralysis faded, he began the process of unhooking his harness. At first, the knots confused him, but after a minute of solid effort he was able to unhook it. Just as he moved to attach it to Mr. Wood's harness, however, a gust of wind blew through the clearing, and Lewis couldn't help it. He sneezed.

The sneeze caught Mr. Wood by surprise, and with a gasp, he let go.

As it often does in moments of great stress or importance, time seemed to freeze. Women screamed and urged their children to cover their eyes. The men in the crowd started and after but the slightest moment's hesitation rushed towards the structure so that they might catch the falling boy. Through it all, Lewis fell. Yet to those watching it seemed as if the fall went on forever, almost as if he were floating to the ground. And then, miracle of miracles, he landed in his father's arms.

The crowd exhaled the breath it hadn't realised it had been holding and a great cheer went up as they saw that Lewis was safe. After several hurrahs and pats on the back, though, they began to disperse and go off to enjoy the remainder of the festival, all the while discussing the incredible sight they had seen.

How fortunate was it that he seemed to fall so slowly. Of course he didn't actually fall more slowly than was natural, they assured themselves. It just seemed that way. Still, it was fortunate indeed that his father was able to run so fast.

For now, at least, Lewis heard none of these whispers. He was too busy being hugged half to death by his parents.

That night, after his mother had kissed him goodnight for the third time, Lewis stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom pondering the face that stared back at him. By all rights, that face was more or less normal. The messy brown hair and the deep brown eyes were nothing if not typical. He certainly wasn't fat and not skinny enough for it to be noticeable. He didn't even have any glasses or scars or anything to set him apart.

What then, he wondered, was it that set him apart? Why couldn't he be normal?

Was it that he was too quiet, that he didn't yell and shout like the other boys his age did? Or was it that he was a coward, something today's events made overwhelmingly clear? Or was it all of the odd things that seemed to happen to him?

For the mysterious disappearance of Mr. Donovan's hair was not the only time something unusual had occurred in his presence. The day before Christmas when he was seven years old, he stole downstairs and ate all of the biscuits, yet when his mother checked the jar that afternoon, it was mysteriously full. And, today, regardless of what the people on the ground may have let themselves believe, he had fallen far more slowly than was normal.

Try as he might, however, Lewis could not explain it, leaving him with no choice but to fall into a fitful sleep.