Hiccup Can't Fly

8 pages · 5 min · ages 6+

Honk, honk, honk! Mila looked up from the apple tree. High above the farm flew a long line of wild geese, in the shape of a V. “They're flying south for the winter,” said Mila. “Somewhere warm.” Hiccup looked at the geese. He looked at his own two tiny silver wings. Then he looked at the geese again, and his starry eyes went very, very round. Hiccup had never flown. Not once. Not even a little bit. And now he wanted to fly more than he had ever wanted anything, even apples.

“You've got wings,” said Otto, pushing up his glasses. “So you can fly. That's science.” Hiccup flapped his tiny wings as fast as they would go. Bzzzzzzzzz! They buzzed like a bumblebee. Slowly, slowly, Hiccup rose into the air. One inch. He hung there, buzzing, very, very proud. Then: “Hic!” And he dropped back onto the grass. Plop. Otto measured the gap with his fingers. “One inch,” he said. “Geese do about a mile.”

“He needs a runway,” said Otto. “Planes have runways.” They carried Hiccup to the top of the big round hay bale in the field. Hiccup took a deep breath, ran to the edge with his wings buzzing, and jumped. For one wonderful second, he flew. Then he flew straight down, head first, into the hay. Fwump. Only his curly tail stuck out, wiggling. High above them, the geese honked. They were getting further and further away.

“He needs wind,” said Mila. She ran inside and fetched Grandpa's big black umbrella. Hiccup held on to the handle with his little paws. A gust of autumn wind came rushing across the farm, and whoosh! The umbrella flew up, with Hiccup dangling underneath it, over the fence, over the hens, over the goat… and then it turned inside out. Hiccup and the umbrella came down in the duck pond. Splash! Seven ducks quacked at him very crossly.

Mila fished him out and dried him with her red scarf. Hiccup's ears drooped. His wings drooped. Even his curly tail drooped. High in the sky, the geese were only a tiny V now, almost gone. Hiccup would never fly with them. He wouldn't even get to say goodbye. He sat very still on Mila's lap, feeling small and wet and sad, and he didn't make a single sound. Not even a hic.

Otto wanted to cheer him up. He made his funniest face: glasses on the end of his nose, tongue out, ears wiggling, eyes crossed. Hiccup tried not to laugh. He really tried. But he did. And when Hiccup laughed, he always got the hiccups. “Hic!” He bounced off Mila's lap. “Hic!” He bounced higher. “Hic!” Higher still, right over Otto's head. Mila stared. Otto stared. “Hiccup,” Mila whispered. “Do that again.”

Hiccup's starry eyes lit up. He had an idea, all by himself. He laughed on purpose, a big giggle, and on every hic he buzzed his tiny wings as hard as he could. Hic-bzzz! Up he went. Hic-bzzz! Higher than the hay bale. Hic-bzzz! Higher than the barn roof. Otto pulled faces and Mila did her silliest dance to keep him laughing. It wasn't flying like a goose. It was flying like a Hiccup. Hic-bzzz, hic-bzzz, all the way up into the big blue sky.

At the very top of his biggest hop, Hiccup was right next to the last goose at the end of the V. The goose looked at him in great surprise. It had never seen a flying lavender fluffball before. Hiccup waved his little paw. “Hic,” said Hiccup, which meant goodbye, and have a lovely winter. The goose thought about it. “Hic,” said the goose. Then the geese flew south, and Hiccup floated down into Mila's arms. And for the rest of the day, every time Otto looked at him, Hiccup hiccupped with happiness.