The Man Who Built a House That Could Fly

I know a story that I doubt you’ve heard before. It takes place in a town called Glittenrock, which exists on the edge of map and memory. Glittenrock was a quiet, peaceful place, and its townsfolk spent their days fishing— as leisurely a livelihood as ever there can be. But not everyone who lived there was happy.

At the edge of the village lived a peculiar man in a cedarwood shack. His name was Ewar. What was so peculiar about him, you might ask? Nothing we might consider overly odd; he was perhaps a little asocial and disliked being on the water, but whatever his differences were, he was marked as ‘unpopular’ in the minds of the others.

He didn’t want anything to do with fishing and rarely left his house, except to gather materials or to watch the stars at night. Perhaps that’s why they considered him strange, but I suspect it had more to do with his hobby.

You see, Ewar liked to build things. All manner of things, from whatever materials he could find in the wilderness. The objects he created had no apparent purpose, and there were a lot of them. He liked to call them ‘inventions.’ Some of these inventions were large and some were small, while others had wheels or little attachments like limbs. Although he had exceptional skill for creating things, none of his neighbours recognized his talent, and this may have contributed to their contempt of him.

It was the children of Glittenrock who took an active interest in the lonely craftsman. Every now and then a crowd of them would gather at the gated fence outside Ewar’s shack and yell for him to come out. I imagine they wanted to understand the nature of his hobby, but they also liked to ridicule him out of disdain for someone who was different.

If Ewar didn’t answer their calls, which he never did, they threw sticks and globs of mud at his window until he ran outside and chased them away. This routine went on for months, the form of projectile changing with the season. Eventually, the children started to spread rumours about the craftsman and what he might be doing shut away in his house for hours on end.

“I heard it’s a human made of wood,” one of the older boys said, “and when it’s finished he’ll set it loose to murder us all!”

“I think he’s making a little friend,” said a younger girl. “Like an artificial puppy to play with.”

“Why would he do that? A toy pet? Absurd idea!”

So it went on— the children continued to spread rumours and harass the man in the cedarwood shack. Soon enough the adults got in on the rumours as well, making up a few cruel ones of their own.

One spring morning, the routine changed. The children gathered outside the shack as usual and called for Ewar to come out. For whatever reason one of the older kids decided to pick up a stone, and he threw it at the front door. It landed with a satisfying thud. That opened the floodgates. Soon all of them were pelting the house in a barrage of stones and pebbles, and the increased severity of the assault drove Ewar to send out one of his bizarre inventions to scare them off. The object he sent out wasn’t too alarming—it looked like a watering-can with two wings pulled by strings—but nevertheless it succeeded in scaring them away.  

“They are getting worse,” Ewar said as he walked out to retrieve the watering-can. “Something must be done.”

He knew the children of Glittenrock would be back the next day with a renewed interest after seeing one of his inventions in the light of day, so he sat for a long time and contemplated what to do. There was one idea he could pursue, an idea he’d had in mind ever since he’d built his shack next to the lake fifteen years ago, but it would be a formidable undertaking.

“Ah, why not,” he thought. “Might as well do it.”

All through the night and over the next three days the sound of banging and hammering filled the town. The noise disrupted the village and scared away the fish. In response to the disturbance a group of bold adults went up to the shack to tell the craftsman to quiet down. Ewar received them at the door and pleasantly said, “Do not fret, I am nearly finished,” and this helped to quell their ire, though it stirred up their confusion.

From that hour forth, no sound came from the hut.

The next morning, some of the early risers in town noticed that the trees behind the craftsman’s house were swaying like grass in the wind. They weren’t brave enough to investigate, however, and chose to put it out of their thoughts.

It wasn’t until a week later that something truly remarkable happened. It was a gloomy day, overcast and chilly, and everyone went about their usual business. Then, out of the blue, they saw something huge rising up from the dense woodland behind the cedarwood shack and stopped what they were doing to look.

It was a house painted a bright shade of blue, complete with four walls and a roof, and it was flying. It floated steadily upward, climbing higher like a hot air balloon, except there was no balloon attached to its roof.

And so Ewar’s greatest invention was clear to behold: he’d built himself a floating house that would allow him to live among the clouds.

“You’ve seen the last of me!” he shouted from an open window. “You will insult me no more! Goodbye forever!”

The villagers’ forms quickly disappeared and the strong winds carried him far away over the forest.

Ewar felt freer and happier than he’d ever been, flying in the sky. There was nobody to disturb him and he could spend the long hours in peace and quiet. The stars winked at him as he passed and the sun felt warmer and kinder from this height. The birds he encountered squawked in puzzlement at this strange intruder in their world, but they soon discovered the house was harmless and began to perch in colonies on the roof. Ewar didn’t mind them; he’d always been fond of birds.  

But his bliss didn’t last forever. In fact, it was relatively short-lived.

He woke up one morning to a beautiful sunrise and immediately knew something was off. The feeling persisted as the day went on, and by nightfall he realized what it was. He was lonely. He missed human interaction, even though the people of Glittenrock had been nothing but terrible to him and didn’t deserve to see his magnificent inventions.

He struggled with the idea of going back all night and barely got any sleep.

Even before his eyes opened to another magnificent sunrise the next day, his mind was made up. After breakfast he veered his floating abode back the way he’d come, intending to continue on a straight course for Glittenrock without delay. He did not belong in this world among the migrating birds, glittering stars, and puffy clouds— it was time to go back.

“After all, terrible company is better than no company at all,” he said to himself.

The return trip seemed to take less time than leaving. The lakeside town was bathed in fog when he returned, and at first, it seemed abandoned. But then the cries of many voices below alerted him that the townsfolk had noticed the flying house.

After landing gently, he went out the front door and was met by a crowd of children intermingled with adults. He expected a volley of insults or scathing words, but none came.

“Look at his wondrous invention!” a middle-aged woman exclaimed.

“What he’s been doing all this time isn’t evil!” added a brawny man. “It’s genius!”

Ewar was welcomed as one of their own— an official member of the community. The worse he’d been expecting was not true; they didn’t despise him or think him odd anymore.

In order to start off on the right foot, he led the crowd to his cedarwood shack to show them the rest of his inventions. Although it took some convincing that a few of the scarier-looking ones were safe, they learned to appreciate his skills. The children never bothered him again. They regarded him as someone who was different from them in a good way and learned to admire his hobby. (It helped that many of his inventions could be used as toys, too.)

As for the flying house, Ewar used it whenever he wanted to escape the ground and spend some time with the birds. Sometimes he would take the townsfolk along for rides, and they were always thrilled at the incredible feeling of being in the sky.

Life went on peacefully for the village of Glittenrock after that, and Ewar continued to build interesting things for the rest of his days.