Fletcher Lynd Seagull was still quite young, but already he
knew that no bird had ever been so harshly treated by any
Flock, or with so much injustice.
“I don’t care what they say,” he thought fiercely, and his
vision blurred as he flew out toward the Far Cliffs. “There’s so
much more to flying than just flapping around from place to
place! A ... a ... mosquito does that! One little barrel-roll
around the Elder Gull, just for fun, and I’m Outcast! Are they
blind? Can’t they see? Can’t they think of the glory that it’ll be
when we really learn to fly?”
“I don’t care what they think. I’ll show them what flying is!
I’ll be pure Outlaw, if that’s the way they want it. And I’ll
make them so sorry ...”
The voice came inside his own head, and though it was very
gentle, it startled him so much that he faltered and stumbled
in the air.
“Don’t be harsh on them, Fletcher Seagull. In casting you
out, the other gulls have only hurt themselves, and one day
they will know this, and one day they will see what you see.
Forgive them, and help them to understand.”
An inch from his right wingtip flew the most brilliant white
gull in all the world, gliding effortlessly along, not moving a
feather, at what was very nearly Fletcher’s top speed.
There was a moment of chaos in the young bird.
“What’s going on? Am I mad? Am I dead? What is this?”
Low and calm, the voice went on within his thought, demanding an answer. “Fletcher Lynd Seagull, do you want to fly?”
“YES, I WANT TO FLY!”
“Fletcher Lynd Seagull, do you want to fly so much that you
will forgive the Flock, and learn, and go back to them one day
and work to help them know?”
There was no lying to this magnificent skilful being, no matter how proud or how hurt a bird was Fletcher Seagull.
“I do,” he said softly.
“Then, Fletch,” that bright creature said to him, and the
voice was very kind, “Let’s begin with Level Flight ..