I'll Fly Away
Flashing lights. Crash. Sirens.
MO!
PETER. Take her and go!
Grab my hand!
I can’t!
Let go!
PETER!!
I love you baby. I love you so much!
Bang. Crash. Drip. Drip. Drip.
Red.
So much red.
Petey.
I love you.
Stephen, please.
Bye, Morgs.
Find him.
“Please, please, please can I go? I’ll never ask for anything ever again.”
Morgan stuck her lip out like she was five and not the completely grown up eight-year-old she actually was. When her dad threw her an unimpressed look, she decided to go another route. “If you don’t let me get it out of my system now, who knows where I’ll end up for college in a few years…”
Uncle Rhodey chuckled. “She’s got you there, Tones.”
He huffed good naturedly. “You won’t even go to high school for another four years, Morguna. And your first word was MIT. I’m not that worried. Besides, this trip is going to be boring—I’m just doing a favor for an old professor of mine. No one actually goes to Cal-Tech willingly.” Her dad picked up his suitcase and put it by the door for Uncle Happy to take to the car. “We’ll only be gone for a few days. I thought you were excited to—what were your words—‘eat so much ice cream that even the Hulk would have a stomach ache’? Uncle Bruce told me he’s wearing his stretchy pants in anticipation.” Her dad waggled his eyebrows.
Morgan scoffed and rolled her eyes. (She could also feel them watering. Traitors.)
“Hey, hey, hey, bug.” Her father scooped her into his lap. “What’s this about?”
“Nothing.” She sniffed and looked down at her hands.
“No. None of that. We made a pact, you and I, little miss. Remember: Starks stick together. That, and, never tell Uncle Happy about the caramel milkshake I spilled in his backseat.”
“Hey!” Uncle Happy grabbed Tony’s suitcase as he winked at her.
“So, what’s going on?”
Morgan thought for a second. She absolutely could not tell her dad about her dreams. Last time she did, he and Uncle Rhodey took her to some smelly old lady who gave her Legos and clapped when she finished building a model of a peptide. Except the lady called it a “pretty necklace” and then proceeded to show her cartoon pictures of a puppy dog making different faces and asked her to point to which one she felt like. Morgan stayed silent the entire time and by the time the session was over, the lady looked like she was about to cry. She made her Dad get her hot fudge sundaes every day for a week after that disaster.
So, the dreams were out of the question. She felt bad, so she tried for another truth instead.
“I’m scared you’re going to leave me too.”
The air felt like it was sucked out of the room. Uncle Happy and Uncle Rhodey looked at each other and her dad squeezed her tighter. Morgan knew it may not have been playing fair to make him feel bad about leaving, but she really didn’t want to sleep without him in the room. The fact that California had beaches and palm trees and not snow that reminded her of warm hands and red cheeks had nothing to do with it. The fact that her dead mom appeared to her in her sleep and told her to find a boy named Peter really had nothing to do with it.
“Ok, then, Maguna. Let’s get you a bag."