When we got to Ronald’s house we put the tube of Supadupa Glue away and focused on flying. Thanks to the light bulb test, we knew I could float, and so I could probably fly. We just had to figure out how. Ronald had a big back yard that was surrounded by a high brick wall, so we didn’t have to worry about nosy neighbors. Ronald’s parents weren’t home from work yet and his big sister, Wanda, was too busy talking on the phone to pay any attention to us. First, I tried to focus on good thoughts, but that only created the lightning bolts. I popped a few into Ronald’s lawn just for the fun of it, but my feet never left the ground.

“What were you doing when you floated the first time?” Ronald asked.

I thought for a moment, scratching my head, “I was holding a light bulb?”

“In the name of Thomas Edison, that’s it! You were holding a light bulb!” he shouted, then ran into his house and brought back a light bulb. He handed it to me, and I looked at it, confused.

“Go ahead, light it up!” he said.

I held it in my hand and thought of mom’s chocolate chip cookies, and instantly my body felt lighter and then—WOW, I was floating. The better the thought, the higher I got. I got about four feet off the ground when I dropped the bulb. When the bulb fell, so did I.

“How am I doing this?” I asked while rubbing my sore butt.

“I’m not sure but I doubt it’s the glass, it’s most definitely not the filament. Perhaps it’s not the bulb itself but the metal in the base of the bulb. Somehow that metal must help you fly, but we’ll have to do more experiments to confirm.

“Sweet, but I can’t hold a light bulb all the time—that would cramp my style.”

“It’s a safe assumption that as long as you have something metal on, like a belt or watch, you should be able to fly, although it could depend on the type of metal used. It could be nickel, platinum, silver—maybe even something simple like aluminum.”

“Okay, you’re losing me again.”

“I believe the base of a light bulb is made of either steel or aluminum. I’ll be right back!” Ronald ran into the house again and brought out a silver ball.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“A ball of aluminum foil. I got it from the kitchen. Try it.” I took it and ZOOM! I flew about ten feet into the air so fast I thought I was gonna hurl.

“Get me down!” I screamed.

“Holy Wilbur Wright!” Ronald yelled as he ran around the yard with his arms spread wide preparing to catch me.

“Ronald, get me down!”

“Ease up your grip on the foil.” He suggested. When I did I slowly floated to the ground. When I gripped it tighter, I shot back up into the sky.

“Ronald, you’re a genius.” I soared over his head. That’s when Wanda opened up her bedroom window.

“What are you losers doing?” she demanded. Fortunately, I was close enough to a tree so I grabbed onto the branches and pretended I was climbing it.

“Nothing, just hanging around,” I said. She shook her head and went back inside.

“Phew, that was close.”

“It sure was!” Ronald said, gasping for breath. “Come on inside, I’m thirsty. I’ll make us some chocolate milk, but don’t blame me if yours ends up being hot cocoa.”