She cannot use her levity
To fly a span of brevity
For she’s of mass and not of light
Stuck on the ground much to her spite
Mom and Dad, you can’t tell which
They both consider her a glitch
Captivating all who wonder
How the Smiths made such a blunder
All but he believed it so
Only he would care to know
He cannot use his levity
To help increase longevity
For he feels dull and incomplete
Among a crowded market street
Mom and Dad, they try to give
All to fill the will to live
Saddening all those who pity
Wastes of such a brain so witty
All but she would shed a tear
Only she would dare come near
Part 1-1 year before gravity
“Hey”, said she in a casual voice. Yea, she said hey. Naomi Estelle Smith, dressed in purposely ripped jeans, a pink and black skull print shirt, custom converse, a metal face, permanent prints galore, born in Salem, Massachusetts, raised in San Francisco, California, treated for ADD, OCD, and hyperactivity, acquaintance of 313, friend of 42, sister of 3, daughter of 2, person of 1, treasure of none, approached him under the willow tree.
“Yes?”, said he in a careless tone. Yea, he didn’t really care. Otto Tiberius Harlan, clothed in black, matching his coal black shoulder-length curls, contrasting with his pale, dry, vampire’s skin, having nothing to do with his blue eye color, born in New York, New York, raised in San Francisco, California, treated for ADD, depression, and bi-curiosity, acquaintance of 287, friend of 2, brother of 1, son of 2, stepson of 2, person of 1, cache of none, writing under the willow tree.
“What are you writing?” she asked.
“You know how when you have an itch on the lower portion of your back and there’s no way to reach it, even with a back-scratcher?” he replied. “I’m writing about that”.
“Oh, well that’s stupid” she exclaimed. “Because you could always just use a tree. I mean you’re sitting by one. ”
Otto retaliates, “Yes but will that tree have fingers to efficiently move about the curves in your back? Will that tree pat you on the shoulder and help your with your other petty problems afterwards? Will that tree even bother to wipe the bark and dirt of your clothing? That which comes from its own attempt to assist, results in just another dirty woody splinter.”
Naomi was shocked. He’s so pessimistic! she thought, “OR, I could just scratch your back and you don’t have to act all goth about it”. She giggled and grabbed the culprit: A lone twig that was nestled in the arch of Otto’s scrawny back.
“You see, human help works to”, said she.
“I have yet to find any” Otto replied.
Naomi exclaimed, “Who am I, just another tree? Come on. Befriend me”
Otto smiled. A smile that looked rusty and worn. A smile that, having once been charismatic, looked strained and forced, like a machine that was sabotaged by a jealous neighbor.
Part 2-1 week before gravity
“I just wanna fly!” rang in Naomi’s ears. Sugar Ray was her favorite band. It was her ringtone. It was Otto.
“Otto I’m so happy you called! I was in the middle of building my apple ladder. It’s about three feet high so far but if I work a bit each day, I might be able make it high enough to reach the sole survivor at the very top of the tree, before the worms eat it.
“Naomi, I’ll be gone for a couple weeks. My parents are sending me to a Christian camp for the confused youth. They think I’ve sinned!”
“Well, what did you do? Murder?”
“No, it’s my thoughts. They say I’m ‘bi-curious’”
“Otto… Why would they think that?”
“Because I’m not on the football team and I refuse to join the army. Also, they think my poetry is effeminate because I write about nature. I just feel so trapped. Must I conform to society’s oppressive standards in order to be accepted by my family? Must I fly across the nation just to be reprimanded, spit on, and smudged back down to earth? Must I ask all these ridiculous questions?!”
Naomi’s cell phone slipped out of her palm and fell into the sewer below. It ricocheted off a drain pipe and was swallowed up by the cruel world’s yawning mouth.
Part 3-1 day before gravity
Naomi was lying on the branch of the willow tree in tears when Otto finally found her.
“Otto! I want to jump! Please let me jump, don’t catch me. My back is killing me and I want to jump and end this agony!”
Otto was at first alarmed until the somewhat humorous realization set in. “Naomi…you’re barely two feet up. I wouldn’t be able to catch you because there’s nowhere to fall. This is third time and you still can’t get high enough. I brought you a slurpee from across the street. Just come down and tell me what’s up. It cherry…”
Naomi’s lip quivered, “Cherry…?”
Otto nodded, “Red like your lips and sweet like your kiss”
Well that brightened her melancholy disposition. “I love when you think of romantic cheese to cheer me up” So she jumped down and her story was related to Otto in a manner such as the following:
“Otto, I just feel so stuck you know? I have so many obligations. I’ve wanted to travel and see the world. Mount Everest is my safe haven. It beckons me. It brings me even closer to the heavens than ever imaginable. Mother Sun calls me to her warm embrace while Father Moon provides me with the courage to aspire to such limits. Meanwhile, the cold Cousin Earth strangles me in her grasp, sending her hordes of demon spawn and succubae to control my destiny and mold me into society’s lackluster standards. My mother wants me to learn piano. She says it would improve my image. My father wants me to stop climbing trees. He says I’m always brain-dead when I’m up in the willow. Last night I stormed out because the weight of their expectations broke me. I’ve missed you Otto. You make me feel light as a feather. Gravity is almost obsolete when you are near. But only almost. I still compare to a feather’s infinitesimal burden. But alas, I’ve concocted a solution. My friend Amber’s father is part of a skydiving club. They jump once a month. I’ve already manipulated her father into believing that I have, in fact, reached the age of 18. Tomorrow I shall fly Otto! And everything will be better. I will take Cousin Earth’s conniving gravitational tricks and use them to my advantage. I will win this tug-of-war by letting go and watching my opponent fall backwards into the abyss.”
Otto’s whole world was crumbling beneath him. She was going to jump! He had been her support through everything. When gravity would pull her down, he’d catch her. He tried to change her mind.
“Naomi, don’t! Skydiving is dangerous. It’s not worth it. Don’t jump. Don’t leave me, please!”
Naomi placed her hand on Otto’s shoulder
“I won’t leave you…come with me”
Naomi Estelle Smith drifted off into the sunset.
Otto Tiberius Harlan had not yet the mind to follow.
So well she used her gravity
Ideas and relativity
Escaping through the open door
From smiley condescending lore
Keep falling with intent of joy
Seek safety, love, an easy ploy
Still underneath the hazard suit
Which failed to build a parachute
She flittered down with subtlety
So well she used her gravity
So well he used his gravity
With unified tranquility
Escaping through the tender portal
Suffers such a fate immortal
Keep hanging from the tree of life
Seek paradise from mental strife
“I’m coming girl, you taught me how”
And with his noose he took a bow
He dropped with such tenacity
So well he used his gravity