Making magical memories

[Stephen Hunter King]

Hunter was glad Sam thought breaking this broom would be worse than dying, which only made him more confident of wanting to let him try it. He didn't think his friend would die if he wore a helmet. But he didn't push further this time as the fear of one of his most priced possessions breaking had now been seeded in his mind, despite of the model's reputation as very durable. Jacob had made sure of it before buying something so expensive for a 9-year old like his. Hunter put on his helmet and snapped its lock close.
"Well, I won't," he declaired, rushed to the door where he'd left his broom, commanded it up and mounted it. In a blink of an eye he was already flying around the garden shed, though only a meter or so above the ground. The boy didn't look quite as silly on a broom now that he had sneakers and a sporty helmet on, though to eyes not used to seeing people flying on brooms without long flowing robes and witch hats it might have still looked odd. He flew gracefully and effortlessly, but the broom went faster than he'd expected so as he rounded back from behind the shed he just barely avoided colliding with the large oak tree next to it, steering to the left just in time to fly between it and the shed.
"Are you sure? This feels amazing!" he said as he made laps around the thick trunk, increasing height a bit everyt time.