There was a time when Eugene didn't fly for long stretches of time--months, years once. The kick had gone out of it. He couldn't share it with friends. He was tired of having to keep it a secret.

He flew when he had to; if he was running late, if he was super enthused about going somewhere, or if he was super depressed.

He wished he had spent more time with his father. He wished he had told him, really made him believe he could fly.

Then he would have flown him away to a place that could have saved him.