Gus and the Great Ocean
10 pages · 9 min · ages 8+
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Gus smoothed a damp patch of white mist with his hands, tucking it firmly over a cold crack in the rock. He wanted to travel past the jagged mountain ridge and see the wide world below. Gus pressed his vapor tighter so the baby robins underneath could stay warm against the morning chill. He felt a jump of excitement in his chest whenever he looked at the distant coastline. "I want to float all the way across the great ocean today," Gus said to Grandpa Cumulus. The huge gray cloud shifted his heavy shoulders. "The sea has strong, tricky drafts, Gus," Grandpa Cumulus said. Gus tapped his fingers against his fluffy belly. "I will be careful," Gus said. The cool scent of pine needles rose from the valley below.
Gus hovered over the sunny meadow and spread his misty arms wide to cast a cool shadow on three wilted yellow flowers. He knew the bright midday sun would scorch their petals if he moved away too soon. The dry soil smelled like warm dust. Barnaby the arctic tern swooped down and landed on a high pine branch nearby. "You are good at shading blossoms, Gus," Barnaby said, clicking his red beak. Gus smiled and pulled his edges in tight so he would not bump the tree. "I am practicing how to hold my shape in the breeze," Gus said. Barnaby tilted his sleek head toward the glittering horizon. "The offshore wind is picking up speed," Barnaby said. Gus felt a sharp tug at his tail wisps.
A brisk current of air caught Gus by the middle and swept him away from the green meadow. Gus looked down and saw nothing but endless, deep blue water rolling below him. If he dissolved into thin ocean fog out here, he would never see his cozy mountain ridge or his family again. Barnaby flapped his gray wings hard to stay alongside Gus's shoulder. "We are far past the sandy shore now," Barnaby called over the rushing air. Gus felt his stomach drop as a wet spray stung his face. "The wind is pushing me faster than I can steer," Gus said. Barnaby pointed with his wing toward the open sea. "You have to fight the draft before you hit the open water," Barnaby said. Gus gripped his misty sides with shaking fingers. "I do not know how to stop," Gus said.
Gus tried to flatten himself into a wide, heavy blanket so the moving air would slide right over his back. Instead, the stiff sea wind scooped under his flat belly like a giant shovel. Gus shot fifty feet straight up into the icy air, losing three fluffy tufts from his tail. Barnaby circled up to meet him, panting against the draft. Gus felt a cold shiver ripple through his damp middle. "That only gave the wind more surface to push," Gus said, rubbing his thinned edges. Barnaby nodded and shook sea spray from his tail feathers. "You acted like a giant sail," Barnaby said. Gus tucked his knees up to keep from scattering. "Now I am higher up, and the air is even rougher," Gus said. He could hear the ocean waves crashing far below like thunder.
Gus squeezed his misty vapor into a tight, dense cannonball so he could sink into the calmer air near the water. For a moment, the plan worked, and he dropped smoothly through the gale. Gus thought he had finally mastered the wild sky. Then a rogue gust hit his round belly, spinning him like a dizzy white top. Gus wobbled wildly, his nose stretching out into a silly bent teapot spout. Barnaby chuckled before snapping his beak shut. "Your snout looks like a kettle, Gus," Barnaby said. Gus untangled his dizzy eyes and felt his ears turn hot with embarrassment. "I spun so fast I lost all my balance," Gus said. Barnaby steadied himself on a warm air pocket. "A ball just rolls wherever the gust blows it," Barnaby said. The salty smell of ocean foam tickled Gus's stretched nose.
Gus hardened his edges into a sharp, rigid wedge to slice directly into the oncoming headwind. He wanted to force his way straight back toward the mountain peaks by pure strength. Gus strained with all his might as the wall of wind slammed against his pointed front. The loud roar of the ocean wind battered his ears. The stubborn air pressure split his misty middle into two trembling halves. Gus gasped and quickly pulled his separated sides back together, breathing heavily. Barnaby swooped in close, his black eyes wide with worry. "You cannot fight the whole sky with brute force," Barnaby said. Gus felt utterly exhausted, his misty fingers weak and frayed. "I thought if I stayed stiff, the wind would break around me," Gus said. Barnaby shook his gray head. "Rigid things snap when the ocean blows this hard," Barnaby said.
Gus slumped in the gray air, watching the dark waves churn without any shore in sight. He wondered if his fluffy white body would simply blow apart into nothing before sunset. Then Gus saw a pod of sleek dolphins leaping through the water below, curving gracefully with the swells rather than fighting the tide. Gus felt a sudden spark of hope in his chest. He remembered how he had shaped soft vapor around the robin's nest without breaking a single wisp. "I am terrified that I will lose my shape completely," Gus whispered. Barnaby hovered near his ear and touched his wing to Gus's side. "You are made of mist, Gus, not stone," Barnaby said. Gus looked down at the dolphins and then at Barnaby's curved wings. He finally knew what to do.
"I will curve my body like a dolphin and let the wind carry me home on its own loop," Gus said. He did not fight the gale this time. Instead, Gus stretched his sides into two smooth, arching wings, just as he had molded the soft shelter mist that morning. When the next big gust struck, Gus tilted his left wing and caught the rushing draft. He swooped in a grand, sweeping arc across the ocean sky. The rush of cool sea air felt exhilarating against his cheeks. Barnaby cheered and flew right under his fluffy wingtip. Gus knew he could steer his own path now. He leaned into the banking turn and rode the great circular sea breeze straight back toward the distant green hills. The warm smell of dry earth greeted them from afar.
Gus glided smoothly over the sandy beach and floated up to his familiar valley peak. The fear that had weighed down his belly was entirely gone, replaced by a light, steady hum of pride. Grandpa Cumulus drifted closer, his broad gray face glowing in the late afternoon sun. Down below, the baby robins chirped happily in their snug, dry nest. "You flew all the way across the salty water and steered yourself home," Grandpa Cumulus said. Gus puffed his chest out and smiled, letting his edges settle into a soft, round cloud again. "I learned how to ride the air instead of fighting it," Gus said. Barnaby landed gently on a warm boulder below them. "Gus is the finest glider in the entire sky," Barnaby said. Gus felt a deep warmth spread through his white mist.
The sun dipped behind the western ridge, painting the quiet sky in soft shades of gold. Gus rested beside Grandpa Cumulus on the high mountain ledge. The evening air felt still and cool against his fluffy cheeks. Below them, the meadow flowers closed their petals for the night. A sleepy chirp came from the robin nest under the rock shelf. Gus knew he was safe at home with the wide world waiting for tomorrow. He curled his misty edges in close and let out a long, quiet breath. Grandpa Cumulus shifted near him, steady and calm in the dusk. Gus smoothed a warm patch of white mist with his hands, resting it quietly over the familiar peak of rock.