It was supposed to be just another fun Saturday. The sun was bright, birds were chirping, and 10-year-old Cutis had the entire day ahead of him to explore the world in his usual curious, energetic way. But as they say, life sometimes throws curveballs—and for Cutis, this Saturday turned out to be more eventful than anyone could’ve imagined.
Cutis was a boy with boundless curiosity. If there was a tree, he would climb it. If there was a creek, he would try to cross it on a stick. His father, Mr. Daniels, often said, “If silence lasts more than five minutes, something is definitely up.” And on this particular day, that saying proved to be more than just a joke.
The trouble started in the backyard.
While his dad was in the garage fixing a leaky faucet and his mom was baking cookies inside, Cutis was playing with his trusty drone. It wasn’t just any drone—it was the latest model he had received for his birthday. He’d named it SkyChaser and was determined to become the best drone pilot in the neighborhood.
But during an ambitious flight mission, Cutis decided to fly SkyChaser way beyond the yard. Past the trees. Over the fence. Toward the construction site two blocks away.
“Don’t go too far,” his dad had warned earlier. “There’s a lot of dangerous stuff near the site.”
But of course, to a ten-year-old, danger sounds more like a dare than a warning.
Eager to see what his drone could do, Cutis maneuvered it around cranes, scaffolding, and large equipment. He giggled with excitement. Everything was going smoothly—until he lost signal.
The screen on his remote blinked: Connection Lost. Attempting to Reconnect…
Panic struck.
“No, no, no!” Cutis shouted, pushing buttons frantically. He could still see the drone, but it hovered shakily above some beams, clearly out of range. Then it tilted, spun, and dropped.
Right into the heart of the construction site.
“Oh no,” Cutis whispered. His heart was pounding. That drone cost over $300. He couldn’t just go home and pretend nothing happened.
Without thinking too much, Cutis climbed over the wooden fence separating the site from the sidewalk and stepped into restricted territory. He told himself he would be quick. In and out. Just grab SkyChaser and run.
But construction zones are not playgrounds.
As he stepped onto a plank between two beams, the board wobbled. He slipped—landing with a thud, not far from where the drone had crashed. His ankle twisted hard.
“Ow!” he cried, tears springing to his eyes.
Worse, he was now trapped. His ankle throbbed with pain, and he couldn’t put weight on it. Panic started rising.
Back at home, Mr. Daniels glanced at the clock. It had been too quiet for too long.
He dropped his tools and headed to the yard. “Cutis?” he called. No answer.
He looked around. The drone was gone. The gate was slightly ajar. His heart skipped.
Running back into the house, he grabbed his keys and phone, told his wife something wasn’t right, and began driving around. He knew his son’s habits, and something told him to check the construction site.
When he pulled up, he saw what he dreaded: the tell-tale signs of small sneakers through the gaps in the fence. He jumped out of the car.
“Cutis!” he yelled.
“Dad!” came a teary voice. “I’m hurt!”
Without hesitation, Mr. Daniels climbed over the fence and rushed to his son.
There Cutis was, sitting on the ground, trying not to cry, his foot turned at an odd angle and dirt smudged on his face. But when he saw his dad, his expression melted with relief.
“I’m so sorry, Dad,” he whimpered. “I just wanted to get the drone.”
His dad’s face was firm but kind. “We’ll talk about the drone later. Let’s get you out of here first.”
Carefully, he lifted Cutis in his arms and carried him out, navigating beams and loose gravel. At the hospital later, they learned it was a minor sprain—not broken, thankfully—but Cutis would need crutches for a week.
That night, lying on the couch with an ice pack on his ankle and a plate of cookies on his lap, Cutis looked at his dad.
“I was really lucky you came when you did.”
Mr. Daniels smiled and ruffled his hair. “Sometimes luck is just having someone who knows you well enough to find you when you’re in trouble.”
Cutis thought about that. He realized he hadn’t just been lucky because his dad showed up. He was lucky because his dad always showed up—whether it was for a scraped knee, a bad dream, or a drone disaster.
The next day, Cutis apologized again. He even wrote a note that said:
“Dear Dad,
I’m sorry for not listening and for putting myself in danger. Thank you for saving me. I promise to be more careful and think before I act. You’re the best dad in the world.
Love,
Cutis”
His dad stuck the note on the fridge with a magnet that said “#1 DAD.”
From then on, Cutis became a bit more cautious. He still flew SkyChaser, but only within safe zones. And he always made sure to ask permission first.
Most importantly, he never forgot how lucky he was that day—not just because his dad found him, but because he had someone who cared enough to always have his back.
