THE KITE

   The beach. Gulf Shores, Alabama. Hot. The Gulf f Mexico is like a lake. There is no surf, only a breeze-induced wash. The Gulf isn’t like this all the time; the Atlantic is never like this. I tread on the sand barefoot. It is white and very fine. It squeaks when you walk.
    The beach house next to ours, an impossibly horrible structure and much too close for my taste, looms; its blue-gray bulk trimmed with an un-beach-like gingerbread pattern painted white. There’s a family staying there, I think they must own it. They look like they have the money. A man, a woman, and a child, a boy about eight years old. Early in the morning the man walks two enormous Irish wolf hounds up and down the beach. The rest of the day, he, his wife, and his kid sit under a portable cabana, moving only occasionally to get their feet wet. At dinner time they disappear into the house.
    The house is three stories high with many dormers and a steep roof. Above it a lone kite flutters in the breeze. It is one of those store-bought 98 cent jobs with the Rogallo wing, something that was unknown when I was a kid. It has a Star Wars scene printed on it. It flies with ease. It takes no skill to put it aloft, only a breeze. It’s there in the morning and there it remains until dark. You could leave it up day and night if you chose to. Nothing like it when I was a kid.
    We made kites that had to be attended to, they had to be flown. You had to be the pilot and if you weren’t careful they could crash. You had to run with them to get them aloft. They were tethered airplanes. Not these. You just stand there and up it goes. Like a balloon on a string.
    Being at the beach tends to change one’s focus quickly. All the things that demanded your attention at home, everything that seemed important is suddenly unimportant. Being unemployed, changing careers, paying the bills, returning to school; all gone. Other things become important. With me it’s that kid’s kite. I hate it. I hate it because it flies so easily above the smooth white sand. I hate it because it teaches its owner nothing. The kid doesn’t care. It flies too easily and was bought