Icarus was a good boy. He really was. Whenever his father told him to clean his room and to set the table for dinner, he did it without whining or complaining. Whenever he was told to do his homework, he immediately cracked open the books. Whenever it was time to help his father in the workshop, he was ready and willing. Icarus did have one problem, though. He didn’t always pay attention.
His father Daedalus was an inventor. He was all the time haring off to build machines or monuments for kings. He built a maze for the king of the island of Crete that was so hard no one could get out of it. Except Daedalus, of course. So the king had Daedalus and Icarus locked up in the maze, which was pretty stupid because Daedalus escaped in no time. The problem was, though, they still couldn’t escape from the island. That’s when Daedalus had his best, worst idea ever: he would figure out how to fly.
Daedalus did his research. The wings had to be heavy enough to hold up in the wind, but light enough to carry. The leather straps that would hold the frame to a man’s chest and arms had to be positioned just so to replicate the strong circular motion of a bird’s wings. Icarus helped his father build the two pairs of wings. He dipped feathers in melted wax and placed them in neat rows along the wood and paper frames his father had carefully constructed. When Icarus dipped the last feather into the wax and placed it on the frame, he said, “Father, the wings are finished!”
Daedalus was rubbing oil into the thick leather straps to make them soft and supple. He looked at his son and smiled. “Today is the day, then,” he said. “Today we fly away!”
Icarus and his father placed the wings on a cart and carried them up to a cliff by the seaside. The bright blue water sparkled in the hot sun. Icarus was so excited he could barely stand still! He ran back and forth from the edge of the cliff to the cart, gabbling the whole time.
Finally, it was time. Daedalus placed the wings on Icarus’ shoulders and fastened the straps to his arm, adjusting them carefully. As he began to put on his own wings, he turned to Icarus, who was hopping excitedly from one foot to the other. Daedalus smiled to see Icarus so happy. “Remember,” he cautioned, “don’t fly to close to the sun, or the wings will begin to melt.”
Icarus, however, was not paying attention. The only word Icarus heard was “Fly!” While Daedalus was still adjusting the straps on his wings, Icarus ran to the edge of the cliff and jumped off.
“Icarus, wait!” shouted Daedalus, as the breeze caught on the paper and feather wings, and Icarus began to glide. Without stopping to buckle the last strap, Daedalus leapt off the cliff after his son.
“Icarus, you’re too high!” he called out. But Icarus soared higher and higher. Daedalus gasped as feathers loosened from Icarus’ wings and wafted down towards the sea. With his own unfastened wing hanging askew, Daedalus was powerless to catch him.
Higher and higher Icarus flew towards the sun, ignoring his father’s cries. And then it happened. Huge globs of wax and feathers began falling off Icarus’ wings, and then a great gust of wind ripped the paper off one of the wings. Icarus screamed as he plummeted into the sea.
Daedalus watched in horror as Icarus hit the water and the wooden frame of the wings took him under. “Icarus!” Daedalus shouted. But there was no sign of the boy on the surface of the ruffled blue water.
Grief-stricken, Daedalus escaped back home to Greece without his son. He destroyed the wings. He never again tried to fly.
