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The citizens of Laputa, according to Gulliver\u2019s Travels<\/em>, lived on a flying island with an adamantine bottom.<\/p>\n The citizens of Balnibarbi lived below them, on the ground, and they were the subjects of the King of Laputa. If the citizens of Balnibarbi threatened to revolt, Laputa would throw rocks down on them, or block out the sun and rain by hovering over them, or even fly low enough to crush the rebellious city to death. This didn\u2019t always work.\u00a0If the citizens of Balnibarbi had a petition for the king of Laputa, they would write it down and tie it to the ropes the Laputans used to pull supplies up to the city, just like a child tying a tail to a kite. In other words, if the citizens of Balnibarbi had a petition for the king of Laputa, they could go fly a kite.<\/p>\n If you were an English major, as I was, you\u2019ll remember that Laputa was Jonathan Swift\u2019s parody of England. Balnibarbi, or at least part of it, was Ireland. But Laputa and Balnibarbi are also America. Laputa and Balnibarbi everywhere else where there\u2019s a big gap between the rich who block out the sun and the poor who can go fly a kite.<\/p>\n Personally I live in the\u00a0 Balnibarbi part of America. I\u2019ve lived for ten years in LaBelle, in Steubenville, in Eastern Ohio, a scruffy neighborhood of a notorious economically depressed town in the least beautiful part of ravaged Appalachia, all in the middle of the richest country on Earth. This summer, the sky was temporarily darkened for days by smoke from wildfires out West where people have money, caused by climate change triggered by the captains of industry who have far more money. This year we\u2019ve been trapped in our homes by a plague brought to America by people who can afford to travel. When the president started calling it the China Flu, my husband started to call it the \u201caff-flu\u201d since affluent people on cruise ships caught it. I can\u2019t do anything about the aff-flu. I can\u2019t do anything about the looming climate catastrophe that turned the sky gray for days. I can\u2019t do anything about the playboy who refuses to leave the White House, or the wealthy cardinals in the Vatican, or any of the other dealings of Laputa. But I do like to fly kites.<\/p>\n Rosie and I went out to fly kites just today. We tried it yesterday, but the wind wasn\u2019t good enough. Today it was perfect. We have two large nylon kites: an eagle with a wingspan as wide as I am tall, and a shark who is as long from nose to tail as Rosie is tall. I\u2019m going to pick up a box kite shaped like a whale the next time we have treat money, and after that we\u2019re getting the giant dragon. For now, the shark kite is Rosie\u2019s favorite. She named it Mr. Tuna Fish.<\/p>\n We took Mr. Tuna Fish out to the big vacant lot. This is the place that used to be a joyless brick apartment complex for poor elderly people, but it got bulldozed and seeded with grass. It\u2019s between the little urban market that\u2019s walking distance if you can\u2019t afford bus fare, and the church that was all over the news in February when their pastor pleaded guilty to sex crimes. The rental house that got the copper wiring stolen one night, which led the landlord to put up great big colorful hand-lettered signs cursing the thieves and exclaiming that they QUIT, is at one corner of the lot.\u00a0 The enormous, bone-dry, barkless dead tree that neighbors ominously call \u201cthe Widowmaker,\u201d because it\u2019s going to drop a limb and smash somebody\u2019s car any day now but the property owners won\u2019t cut it down, is across the street. The house of the little boy who tried to climb in our window and steal Rose\u2019s toys is nearby.<\/p>\n It is a joyless neighborhood, and it\u2019s worse during a pandemic.<\/p>\n Rosie and I set Mr. Tuna Fish aloft.<\/p>\n I\u2019ve gotten pretty good at flying kites, but I can\u2019t tell you how to do it. It\u2019s a completely non-verbal practice. First you go like this, then you run into the wind like this. Then, just when you feel the kite tugging a certain way, you go like that<\/em>, and the kite pulls back on you like this<\/em>, and then you have to go like that<\/em>. And you keep doing that to the string until the kite is up in the air and staying there instead of diving for the ground. It would be easier on a beach or a great big field, but what we have is the vacant lot.<\/p>\n Today I did this<\/em> and then I did that<\/em> and I ran back and forth; I braced myself in a wide-legged fighting stance to fight the kite string and probably would have looked dignified if I was capable of dignity. Rosie kept unreeling slack to give Mr. Tuna Fish a longer leash. But Mr. Tuna Fish kept taking to the air, turning a flip, and then crash landing. He never stayed up for more than a few minutes. The mid-November wind was too unpredictable, somehow.<\/p>\n Still, everyone kept stopping to watch.<\/p>\n It\u2019s hard to describe how grim it is here, so I can\u2019t really explain what a miracle it is when people are happy. And I can\u2019t say that everyone who stopped to watch was happy. The people walking back from the grocery store were still masked, so I couldn\u2019t tell if they were smiling or not.<\/p>\n But the children who rode by on their bikes were smiling. Some just cried \u201cWipeout!\u201d when Mr. Tuna Fish hit the ground. Some of them ran over, masks down around their chins, and begged to try the kite. Here I was in trouble because I couldn\u2019t tell them how to fly it. \u201cFirst you do this<\/em>, and then you do that.<\/em>\u00a0No, not like that. Hold the string, not the frame. Now give it slack. Now\u2013 no, his tail is caught on the line, let it go. No, no, do THIS.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n But they didn\u2019t seem to mind that they couldn\u2019t do it. They just liked to try.<\/p>\n A grown-up walking by smiled up at Mr. Tuna Fish and declared we had a \u201cmighty fine kite!\u201d<\/p>\n Mr. Tuna Fish tugged on the line and ignored my doing this and that; he turned barrel rolls and zig-zagged about until my arms were exhausted.<\/p>\n We went back home, to real life here in Balnibarbi where nothing is as it should be and most people are helpless.<\/p>\n But for a few minutes, we\u2019d flown. And we\u2019d made LaBelle a bit more exciting.<\/p>\n I guess that makes it a good day.<\/p>\n \u00a0<\/p>\n Image via Pixabay.<\/em><\/p>\n Mary Pezzulo is the author of\u00a0Meditations on the Way of the Cross<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n