Stealing Air (15 page)

She stopped for a moment. Then she slid her hand toward him. Brian's heart beat heavier as her fingertips brushed his. Somehow their fingers interlocked and fit perfectly. Her hand was soft and warm, and he rubbed her thumb with his.

“The father couldn't keep up with the boy, so the boy got away. He ran down the slope and hid on a sandbar under this railroad bridge. The girl was furious at her father and worried about her boyfriend, so she ran away and met her boyfriend here at the bridge.

“Some say they left town together that day — ran away and never came back. Others believe that she eventually went home, but from that day on, whenever they wanted to be together, they'd run away to this bridge.”

“Which story do you believe?” Brian asked.

She looked serious. “It depends on the day,” she said. “And how I feel.”

She didn't look away. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. Then she moved closer. He wanted to kiss her, but he'd never kissed a girl before. What was he supposed to do? Hoping he'd get this right, he leaned toward her.

“MAD MAX! Get back here!” Frankie's voice echoed through the woods. “Don't think you can get away!”

Max came bursting out of some shrubbery at the top of the ridge, just before the ground sloped down to the river, less than a hundred yards downstream from the bridge. Frankie followed a few paces behind.

“Oh no,” Wendy groaned.

“I have to go help him.” Brian let go of her hand and stood up. Then he ran off toward the slope.

“Wait!” Wendy was right behind him.

He ran as fast as he could along the top of the ridge, cutting through scrub brush and ducking under a few low-lying tree branches. Frankie had caught Max by the shirt, stopping him about six feet down from the top of the ridge. When he saw Brian, he put on his evil grin.

“Just who I was looking for,” Frankie said. He shoved Max hard, sending him sliding and rolling down the hill until he splashed into the English River.

“Knock it off, Frankie!” Wendy shouted behind Brian. “Why do you have to be like this?”

“Oh, and this dork is here in the woods with my sister!” He tapped at his temple and pointed at Brian. “Hmm. I seem to remember telling you not to even talk to Wendy.”

“I can do what I want!” Wendy said.

“You can. Yes,” Frankie said. “But he can't.” He grabbed Brian's arms and twisted him to throw him like he'd done to Max.

“No way, man.” Brian gritted his teeth and gripped Frankie's arms, pushing back.

“Stop it, you two!” Wendy tried to pull them apart. “Just leave each other alone!”

“No problem,” Frankie said. He stepped backward, throwing Brian off balance. Before Brian could figure out what to do, Frankie planted a foot behind his and pushed him back, sending him flailing through the air.

Brian hit the dirt on his back, rolled up and over, scraped through a prickly bush, and then splashed down in the cold river. He took in a mouthful of muddy water and stood up coughing. Before the water was out of his eyes, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He cocked back his fist, ready to fight.

“Brian, it's me!” Max said just in time.

Brian checked his punch and wiped his face. He slipped in the mud and fell down on his belly in the water again.

“Let me go, Frankie!” Wendy's voice echoed down the slope. She struggled to get out of her brother's grip. “Brian, I'll call you!”

“You will not!” Frankie said.

Brian crawled up on the muddy riverbank and rolled over onto his back. Max collapsed next to him. He listened to the sound of Wendy and Frankie's argument fading as they walked farther and farther away.

After a long time, Brian asked, “What is that guy's problem?”

“In general, I believe Frankie's a little overprotective of Wendy due to his feelings of insecurity after the loss of his mother.”

Brian stared at the tree branches above him. “You got that from a book.”

“It's a theory,” Max said. “I was on my way from the Eagle's Nest to buy some soda tonight when Frankie started chasing me. He was convinced I knew where you were. I did know because Alex had told me, but for the record, I did not tell Frankie that you were on a date with Wendy. How did that go, anyway?”

“Great.” Brian smiled, remembering the perfect afternoon with Wendy. Then he spat to try to get the dirty water taste out of his mouth, thinking of how Frankie had ruined it all again. “Just great.”

 

After a soggy walk home, Brian sneaked up the stairs to the back porch, knowing he was probably late for supper. It would have been okay with him to be late because of Wendy, but he hated the idea of getting in trouble thanks to Frankie. And no matter what, Mom and Dad would be furious if they saw him this dirty.

Lights were on in the kitchen. That meant at least one of his parents was home.

“You are being ridiculous about this!” Mom's shout sounded through the porch windows.

“It's only temporary,” Dad said. “We'll pay him back. Your father says he wants to help.”

Brian leaned his head against the outside of the house. They were both home, and they were not happy.

“He's already letting us live here rent-free,” Mom said. “You want to ask for more?”

“This isn't my fault! We wouldn't have to do this if that first batch of Plastisteel hadn't been stolen.” Brian lightly thumped his head against the house. “Anyway, I don't see what the big deal is,” Dad said. “Mary has asked —”

“You know, I am getting just a little bit tired of hearing about
Dr. Warrender
and how great she is.”

“Are you kidding me? You're
still
jealous?”

Now was as good a time as any to sneak in. He could get inside and get up to his bedroom to change before he was noticed. Quiet was the key. He gripped the doorknob and turned it all the way before pulling the door open. It would start to creak if he moved it past the halfway point, so he only cracked it a little bit before squeezing in through the gap.

“What on earth happened to you?” Mom said. Brian jumped. She was right in front of him. “Brian, you're filthy! What were you doing?”

“Mom, it's not my fault. I was just —”

“Is that your new shirt? The nice shirt I bought for you to wear to your father's big dinner with Mrs. Douglas?” She grabbed his sleeve. “It's ruined!”

Dad came into the kitchen. “What's going on?” He saw Brian. “You're late. Didn't you read the note? What have you been doing?”

“Brian, why were you even wearing this shirt?” Mom asked.

“Who were you with?” Dad asked.

It was one of very few nights when both Mom and Dad were home for supper together. Now they were just going to yell at him?

“Brian, answer us,” Mom said.

“Nothing!” Brian said. How could he tell them? They'd never understand about Frankie, and he certainly wasn't going to tell them about Wendy. “I wasn't doing anything!”

“Oh, really?” Dad said. “Good. Well, you'll be doing a lot more nothing in the future. You are grounded! From now on, one of us will be calling the house at three thirty. That will give you half an hour to get home after school. If you're not here to answer the phone, I'll start assigning extra punishments.”

“It's not my fault! You can't just —”

“I have too much going on to deal with crap like this, Brian. This is a critical time for Synthtech. I need you to do your part to help.”

After Brian showered and changed clothes, they ate their hamburgers and fries in silence, and then he went to his room. At first he paced the floor, mad about having been grounded, furious at Frankie for ruining the perfect day. He tried using the PRC-77 radio that he'd brought home days ago to connect with the one Max had. He keyed the handset. “Anyone there?” Nothing. He went back to pacing. Since moving to Iowa, it seemed nothing ever worked for him.

He stopped in front of his desk. It wasn't just his own problems. What was happening to Mom and Dad? They'd had arguments, but Brian had hardly ever heard them scream at each other before. When he first came home and Dad came in to the kitchen, he could have sworn there were tears in his eyes.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. For months before they moved, Dad had told him how cool things would be in Riverside, how Brian would make tons of new friends here in Iowa and Plastisteel would make them so much money. He remembered Dad dreaming about a big house and even a new plane, maybe a twin-engine. Dad used to talk like that for hours, with the same big business smile Alex used when he was suckering someone into a bet.

Just the same as Alex.

Brian sat down at his desk. Alex and Dad were a lot alike. They acted like they had it all figured out, with their cool jokes and answers and advice for everything. But they were just making it up as they went along. Faking it. They were both as clueless as Brian was.

Was that bad? Was that like lying? He closed his eyes and thought about sitting with Wendy on the Runaway Bridge. He could almost feel her hand in his again. And he couldn't be sure, but it really seemed like she wanted to kiss him. He knew he'd wanted to kiss her.

Through the whole wonderful afternoon, Brian hadn't had a clue about what to do. Alex's so-called expert advice had been useless. Everything went well with Wendy when Brian had just stopped worrying so much and guessed what to do, when he took a risk. He too had been making it up as he went along. That had been enough.

Maybe everybody was making it up.

And if that was true, then Brian was just as equipped to handle life as anyone else was, or at least as much as anyone at school.

He opened his eyes and started pacing again. Frankie! He had wanted to pound the guy on the slope. Toss that big dumb jerk into the water and see how he liked it. But when Brian tried, the guy was just too strong. He'd never beat Frankie physically. Worse, fighting him would upset Wendy.

He went back to his desk and picked up his model SR-71 Blackbird. Grandpa wanted Brian to fight. Wendy didn't. Dad needed Mrs. Douglas to invest in his company, and Mrs. Douglas wouldn't do that until she saw the Plastisteel
Blackbird
fly. Brian brought the model plane in for a landing on his desk. There must be something he could do about all these problems.

 

Hours later, Brian was lying on his bed with his hands folded behind his head. He wished he could sleep, but too much about the day bothered him. He closed his eyes and tried to get comfortable, but his sore body wouldn't cooperate. The view of the stars out the window was better than any he could have hoped for back in brightly lit Seattle. He watched the stars now and wished they would say something, wished they would tell him what to do.

There was a short hiss of static. “Blackbird,
this is Ground Control.
Blackbird,
this is Ground Control. Do you copy? Over.”

The radio! Brian grabbed the handset and pressed the little black button on the side. “Uh, I guess … this is
Blackbird
. Max, is that you?”

“Negative, negative. Code names only on this channel. Also, you must say ‘over' when you're done talking. How copy? Over.”

Brian laughed. If Max wanted to do the radio all military-style, that was fine. Whatever worked for him. “Ground Control, this is
Blackbird
. Roger. That's a good copy. Over.”

“Blackbird,
Ground Control. Hey, I wanted to thank you for trying to help me by the river tonight. I'm sorry you got all dirty because of me. Over.”

Brian waited for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer.

“Blackbird,
this is Ground Control. Did you copy that last transmission? Over.”

He pressed the handset to his face and let out a deep breath. “Ground Control, this is
Blackbird
. Roger. That's a good copy. But I'm the guy who should apologize to you. For a lot of stuff. And … starting tomorrow, things are going to be different.” Max didn't answer for a while. Then Brian remembered. He keyed the mic again. “Oh. Sorry. Um … Over.”

“Thanks, Brian. I really appreciate that. I'd say these radios work great. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Ground Control, out.”

Brian switched off his radio and went to the window to stare at the stars again. A lot had gone wrong since he started school here in Iowa. He was tired of it. Tomorrow, he would start to make some changes.

The next morning, Brian met Wendy skating to school. “Brian, I am so sorry about yesterday,” she said.

“Yesterday was great,” he said. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, but I mean about my brother —”

“Wendy, it's fine. Really. Don't worry about it.”

“It's not fine! I want —”

“Wendy, I'm asking you this as a favor. Please, don't worry about it. Let's just have fun skating! I dare you to keep up!” Brian kicked the pavement to speed up as they hit the Lincoln Street hill. Wendy sped after him. Their race to school ended with a tie and laughter.

The rest of the morning passed normally. Brian didn't know if what he was about to do was right, and he certainly didn't know if it would work or not. He'd have to go for it and hope for the best. Like Alex always did. Like Dad.

As everyone filed out for lunch, Brian approached Ms. Gilbert's desk. She kept reading for a while as he stood there. Finally, she put a bookmark in and closed the cover. “Yes, Brian? What is it this time?” She thumped the book down on her desk a little hard.

Brian swallowed. “I'm sorry for taking up so much of your reading time at lunch. And also …” He thought he better continue before he lost his courage. “Thanks for answering all my questions and everything, but I don't think I'll be staying in here at the start of lunchtime anymore.” Ms. Gilbert was still quiet. It was beyond weird. “So, um … thank you again. I'm going to go to lunch now.”

“Brian?” she said just as he reached the door. “I'm glad you've worked this out. Enjoy your lunch. Welcome to Riverside.”

For the first time, Ms. Gilbert actually smiled.

Brian was last in the lunch line again. His mouth watered when the lunch lady put a hot crispito on his tray. Then he went toward the full, loud lunchroom. Alex sat at his table with all the cool guys and Frankie. There wasn't enough room for him. Today, though, that was just what Brian had hoped for.

Max sat by himself two tables away from Alex and the others. He actually unfolded a paper napkin and put it in his lap like he was at some fancy restaurant. Brian made his way to his table and stood waiting while Max had his head bowed in prayer. When he looked up, Brian motioned toward the bench. “Can I sit here?”

He felt awkward, but not due to the people watching and whispering or the giggles from the Wolf Pack. It was awkward to ask to sit with Max because he had been such a jerk to him for so long, while Max had always been a great friend. Brian wanted to start to pay that friendship back.

Max looked surprised, but happy. “Sure. Have a seat. This is a welcome change. I usually eat alone.”

“Me too.” Brian sat down. “I'm done with that now.”

“Hey, Brian!” Frankie shouted. Brian ignored him and took a bite of his delicious crispito. The crunch of the tortilla and the warm meaty goodness in the center tasted like a reward for finally working up the guts to sit with Max in the cafeteria.

“Hey, Roberts. I'm talking to you, new boy.”

“Yep, Frankie. I'm new,” Brian called back. “Is that really the best you can do? Is that the only way you can insult me, by pointing out the fact that I'm new?”

“No … I mean yes. Whatever! Why are you sitting with Mad Max?” Frankie shouted even louder.

“I can sit where I want.” Brian tried the peas. They were disgustingly overcooked, merged together into a green paste on the tray. It tasted terrible, but he was happy, knowing Frankie was getting more and more angry as he ate.

“I'm talking to you! Don't think you can ignore me!”

Frankie was so loud now that other kids in the lunchroom were telling him to keep it down. Finally, Mrs. Valentine walked over to his table. She was young and usually cool, unless someone made her angry. “Frankie, if you can't be quiet you'll be eating in the principal's office for a week!”

Brian caught Max's gaze. They both laughed.

 

Brian stood at his locker at the end of the day, pulling out
Spitfire
and his backpack. The crowd moved all around him, eager to get out of school. Too many times, he had hidden away from all this, stalling in the classroom, sneaking out the back way, or rushing as fast as he could to be the first one out. Today it felt good to be right in the middle of it all, a part of it.

Max approached. “Would you like to go to the Eagle's Nest?”

Brian checked to make sure nobody could hear them. “I thought
Blackbird
needed more engine parts.”

“Yes, but we could research other possible ways to improve engine power.”

“I'm not sure I'd be much help with that, but —”

“We could also finish up our mythology assignment,” Max said. “Plus, I know of your fondness for cheese puffs. I could bring a bag.”

“I'd like to go to the Eagle's Nest,” Brian said. “But I'm grounded. I have to go home.”

Max's shoulders fell. “Oh. Well, that's okay. I shouldn't have —”

“But my parents never said I couldn't have people over. Just come to my house.”

“Really?” Max's face lit up.

“Sure, man.”

“Hey, guys,” Wendy appeared out of the crowd. Brian immediately checked the hall for Frankie. “Don't worry,” she said. “He's outside.”

“I wasn't even thinking about him,” Brian said.

“Liar.” She smiled.

“Hello, Wendy,” said Max.

Wendy nodded kindly to Max, then turned to Brian. “Want to thrash tonight?”

Max raised an eyebrow and grinned at Brian before he quietly slipped away.

“I want to,” Brian said. After yesterday afternoon with Wendy, there was nothing he'd rather do. “But I'm grounded for coming home all muddy last night.”

Wendy looked disappointed. “I'm so sorry. I wish my dad would ground my brother. Frankie needs it.” Then she added so quietly that Brian could hardly hear her, “I wish Dad would just do something. Anything.”

He reached out and patted her arm. It was a stupid thing to do, maybe. The Wolf Pack would be going crazy about it if they were around. But he didn't think about it when he did it, and now he didn't care. “So anyway, I can't skate with you tonight, but could I walk you part of the way home?”

“Sure,” she said.

He slung his backpack over one shoulder and walked out of the school by Wendy's side, switching
Spitfire
to his left just in case she wanted to hold hands again. But before they were even six paces outside the school, he saw a group of guys standing out in the grass. They had formed a circle around Frankie and Max, and Frankie had just knocked Max's books out of his hands.

“Oh, you have to be kidding me,” Brian said quietly.

“Brian, please don't —”

“I can't just let him keep picking on me and my friends.” He sprinted off toward the crowd.

Frankie slammed his hands into Max's chest. “You're such a loser, Mad Max. With your dorky
Star Trek
books and those idiot glasses.” He pushed him again. David, Red, and some of the fourth and fifth grade boys laughed. Alex was watching too. He didn't cheer Frankie on like the other guys did, but he didn't do anything to stop it either.

Brian elbowed his way through the group, knocking David to the side. Alex spotted him and moved to the back of the crowd.

Frankie slapped Max in the head and knocked his glasses off. “Maybe you can have your
Star Trek
ship beam you up, dork.”

“Leave him alone, Frankie.” Brian stepped into the middle of the circle. He clenched his fists.

Frankie moved closer. That scary twitch was back in his eye. “What's it to you?”

“Max is my friend.” He was in it this far. He might as well keep going. “And there's nothing wrong with
Star Trek
! I even have
The Next Generation
Season Four DVD set.”

Max had picked up his glasses and was putting them back on. “That's a good one,” he said quietly. “The episode ‘The Best of Both Worlds' with the Borg and everything. Captain Picard —”

“Max,” Brian said. “Later.”

Wendy pushed through to join them. “Guys, knock it off. This is stupid.”

Frankie held his hands up. “Looks like I'm going to have to beat you both down again.”

Great success through great risk.
Brian's heart pounded, and he was shaking all over. Now was the time. “No, Frankie. You're done. You leave me and my friends alone. This is your last chance.”

Frankie looked at the other guys with an expression that seemed to say,
Can you believe this guy?
Then he stood up straight and flexed his muscles. “What are you gonna do? You want to fight right here? I'll break your face.”

Brian didn't flinch. “You just want to fight here in front of the school so some teacher will run to your rescue.” He took a step forward, hoping he looked tough. “No. When I beat you, I'm going to beat you completely.”

“Nobody is beating anybody, you guys! Just stop it!” Wendy said.

Nobody else said anything. Nobody even seemed to move. They were like vultures, waiting to see who would fall.

“Okay, freak! Right here!” Frankie took a swing but Brian ducked and jumped back. He was so scared that he wanted to throw up, but he also had an idea.

“If you're so sure you can beat me up,” he said, “then you can do it just as easily tomorrow down at the skate park.” He forced himself to keep his glare fixed on Frankie. “That way no teachers can stop me from finishing you.”

Frankie's shoulders heaved up and down as he made a big show of loud breathing through his nose. His eye twitched.

“What's it going to be, tough guy?” Brian said. Then he spoke loudly so everyone could hear. “I tell you what. I'll be at the skate park tomorrow at four thirty, waiting to humiliate you. If you don't show up, everyone will know you're a pathetic coward. It's your choice.”

Brian turned away. He paused for a moment when he saw the tears in Wendy's eyes. “I'm sorry,” he said. Then he grabbed Max by the arm and pulled him over to Alex. “Eagle's Nest. Right away,” he said before leaving the silent crowd, trying not to think about the hurt look on Wendy's face.

The phone was ringing when he made it home. “Hello?” he said, trying to control his breathing so he didn't seem like he had just run into the house.

“Brian, are you okay? You sound out of breath,” Mom said.

So much for sounding normal. “I was just … um … upstairs doing my homework, and I couldn't find the phone.”

“Oh,” Mom paused for a long time. Did she think he was lying? “Well, just stay in and work. I should get there about six.”

“Sure,” Brian said. “I have a lot to do anyway. This whole story about Icarus trying to fly.”

Mom wished him luck, said good-bye, and hung up. As soon as he was off the phone, Brian grabbed
Spitfire
and set out for the Eagle's Nest as fast as he could.

When he came up out of the tunnel, he found Max and Alex sitting at the table behind
Blackbird
. They just sipped Mountain Dews and stared at him.

“What?” Brian said.

Alex put his can down with a thud. “Dude, what was that all about?”

Max nodded. “I'm grateful for your help, Brian, but I think it is possible you might have an even bigger problem now.”

“Possible?” Alex said. “Frankie is going to crush you if you show up to the park tomorrow.”

“Whoa, I never said I would fight him,” Brian said.

“You said you were going to finish him. Humiliate him. How are you going to do that? It's not like he's just going to stand there and let you —”

“He's not going to be able to do anything.” Brian reached into the box and pulled out a Mountain Dew. He popped the top and took a drink. “Boys, let's prep
Blackbird
. She flies tomorrow.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex said.

Max frowned. “Brian, I do not believe
Blackbird
is ready. It doesn't have enough power to take off on its own.”

“She may have a little trouble taking off, but I've been thinking about our first flight attempt that night, and I bet moving the seats back a bit might shift the weight to put us at a better angle for takeoff. It's a good design, Max. Once she's airborne, she'll fly great.”

“But what does
Blackbird
have to do with Frankie Heller?” Alex said.

“Relax,” Brian said. “I have a plan.”

“Your Mr. Piggly plan nearly got us killed,” Alex pointed out.

“I suppose it wouldn't be too difficult to install seat belts,” Max said.

Alex ignored Max. “How do you know this idea will work?”

That was a good question. “I don't.” Brian shrugged. “But we're going to take our best shot.”