Stealing Air (18 page)

“I got 'em locked down! The door stopper things are just burning up!” Alex said.

One block to go. They were still moving too fast. “Dude, these brakes are useless!” Alex's whole body jerked as he tried to push them down harder, then he jumped back as sparks shot out. “The rubber's all burned off. We're grinding metal!”

“Flintstones brakes!” Brian shouted.

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on! Do it!” He leaned back in his seat and pressed the soles of his shoes to the street.

“Do you know how much these shoes cost?” Alex said.

“Do it now!” Brian's legs shook as his shoes skidded along the pavement. He heard another scraping noise and saw Alex was dragging his feet as well.

“First my pants. Now my shoes. Want to ruin my shirt next?” said Alex.

Blackbird
rolled across Lincoln Street and up a slightly sloped driveway. They were eight feet from smashing right through the Iowa Hawkeyes mascot painted on the white garage door. They rolled closer and closer. Brian cringed and instinctively held his hands up in front of him. “Stop, stop, stop, stop!”

Blackbird
scraped to a halt about two feet from the garage door.

Brian finally let out a breath. His heart pounded in his chest. He looked back at Alex. “Touchdown.”

Alex was shaking. He slowly nodded as he fumbled for the radio handset. When he picked it up, he took a deep breath. “Ground —” He swallowed and licked his lips. “Ground Control, this is
Blackbird
.
Blackbird
has landed. I say again,
Blackbird
has landed. We're at First and Lincoln. How copy? Over.” Brian could hear the faint sound of Max's voice on the radio. Alex frowned. “Negative, Ground Control. I just said ‘
Blackbird
has landed.' I didn't say it was a safe landing.
Blackbird
out.” He switched off the radio and clipped the handset to the wire basket. Then he looked at Brian and pointed at Herky the Hawk on the door right in front of them. “Whoa.”

Brian nodded. “As Max would say, ‘precisely.'”

Brian and Alex stepped down off of
Blackbird
and onto solid ground. They picked the flyer up, each carrying a wing. They intended to hide it in the north woods until dark, when they could safely sneak it back to the Eagle's Nest, but before they could carry it very far, Max rode up on his two-seat bike. Wendy was pedaling in the back.

They put the flyer down as Max ran up to them. “I believe the mission was a resounding success! I'm a little concerned by the trails the brakes seem to have made in the street, but the flying was impressive.”

“Yeah, Max, about those brakes …” Alex said as he checked the worn bottoms of his shoes.

Brian left the two of them and went over to talk to Wendy. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” said Wendy.

Was she angry? Did she hate him for what he'd done? Maybe she'd come here to say she never wanted to talk to him or to slap him or something. “I um … sort of poop-bombed your brother.”

“I saw that.” Wendy shook her head. “I suppose you had to do something. Frankie needed to be taught a lesson.”

“It was the only one we could think of,” Brian said.

She laughed quietly. “Really? Poop? That's all you could think of?”

“Sorry.”

Wendy reached out and squeezed his hand. His heart beat heavier than it had when they'd nearly crashed into the garage. She smiled at him. “I'm just happy you didn't fight him.”

“I thought I'd try something new.”

“You … kept your promise … I guess.” She moved closer. He looked into her amazing green eyes, and she looked back at him.

“Hey, you two,” Alex said. Brian and Wendy jumped apart. “We need help carrying
Blackbird
. We have to hide it before everyone finds us or we'll never get it put away tonight.”

“I gotta go,” Brian said to Wendy. He hoped she'd understand.

Wendy stepped away from him and picked up Max's bike. “I'll take this to Max's house. Then I'll call you tonight,” she said. “And you don't have to worry about my brother. If Frankie ever manages to get the stink washed off, he'll think twice before bothering you again.”

Brian ran to take hold of
Blackbird
. They carried it around the back of the house they'd almost hit, across a grassy field, and deep into the north woods.

“Dude, do you have my dad's camera?” Alex asked once they'd hid the flyer under some thick bushes. Max unslung his backpack and pulled out the device. Alex took it from him and checked it over. “Whew. It looks okay. If it was messed up, I'd be a dead man.” He hit a couple buttons. After a minute or two, video came up on the little flip-out screen. “Beautiful.” He showed the screen to Brian. “Check it out. In high def too.”

The zoom on the camera was impressive. Close-ups showed
Blackbird
in flight with her Plastisteel wings and tail shining in the afternoon sun, and long-distance shots caught the flyer swooping over buildings or dodging around trees. Max had even filmed their crazy banking maneuver between the grain elevators. With a little editing, the video was sure to razzle-dazzle Mrs. Douglas. Max had also scored perfect footage of Frankie getting nailed by the wet manure bomb.

“Awesome,” Brian said. “We can send a copy to Frankie, and if he tries to be a tough guy again, we'll just threaten to put the video online.”

“Guys, seriously, this was probably the coolest thing I've ever done. This was something real.” Alex rubbed his knuckles under his chin. “Magazines, television … They're going to pay so much for our story.” He laughed a little. “I'm going to start tracking down people who owe me money. B.A. has some winnings coming too.”

Knowing they'd be back for
Blackbird
soon, they walked out of the woods and headed home.

At one o'clock the next day, Alex, Brian, and Max were up in Brian's room. “Gentlemen, ties.” Alex tossed pre-knotted neckties to the other two. “Brian, you said your shirt was stained.” He looked at Brian's dingy dress shirt and handed him a jacket. “I brought this from home. See if it fits.”

The jacket's sleeves came up several inches too short when Brian finally wiggled into the thing. He sighed and put his hands on his hips.

“Better than letting everyone see those mud stains,” said Alex.

“It
is
an improvement.” Max did not sound very convincing.

The sound of a car outside drew Brian to his window for the hundredth time. Earlier, he had watched Max and his parents arrive in their Prius and Grandpa in his pickup. A few minutes after that, Alex and his mom, dad, and sister had pulled up in their Lexus. The latest car rolled right by — not the vehicle he was hoping for.

“Brian,” said Max, “no doubt everyone downstairs is wondering why we called this meeting. It was not easy to get my parents to come.”

“Yeah,” said Alex. “My dad was supposed to drop Mom and Katie off at the mall when he went in to the office. It took some time to convince them this was important.”

“We wouldn't even be having this meeting if you hadn't uploaded the video to the Internet,” Brian said.

Alex held his hands up. “Dude, what could I do? Someone put up a crappy video he took with his phone. It was starting to get a lot of views. I had to put up our good video to stay on top of publicity. How was I supposed to know it would go viral so fast?”

“In any case, Brian, we can't change what is already done,” said Max.

They were right, and they couldn't just leave everyone downstairs wondering what was going on either. “We'll just have to start,” Brian said.

“Remember, play it professional.” Alex straightened his tie and picked a piece of lint off his blue jacket. He looked like one of those guys at expensive boarding schools that Brian had seen in movies. “They're going to find out about
Blackbird
soon anyway. We might as well tell them ourselves.”

“It's the most logical approach,” said Max.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Spock.”

Max frowned. “I consider it a compliment to be compared to the greatest Vulcan who —”

“Oh, come on,” Brian said, leading the way out of the room before Max and Alex could get into a
Star Trek
debate. This meeting would be like skating, flying, or almost anything else. It was best to just go for it.

Downstairs in the living room, Brian's and Max's parents sat on chairs brought in from the dining room, while Grandpa sat in the old leather recliner. Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie occupied either end of the couch, with Alex's little sister Katie pouting in the middle. She perked up when Brian and the guys entered the room, giggling and giving Brian a little wave.

“What's this all about?” Brian's father asked once again. Even with Max and Alex at his side, Brian felt his courage slipping away.

“Yes, I'd like to know too,” said Alex's mom. “Alex, if you wanted us to meet your new friends, you could have —”

“I'll handle this,” said Mr. Mackenzie. “Alex, you said this was important business and —”

“Can I have your attention please?” Brian spoke loudly. If this was going to work out right, they would have to be the ones to lead the discussion. “We have to tell you something that is probably going to surprise you.”

“But it's good!” Alex cut in.

How did Dad know how to run meetings like this? Brian smiled. Dad made it up. “That's right! It is good. So just, please, listen to the whole presentation before you make judgments.”

“Oh no,” Brian's mom said. “What's wrong?”

Brian shot a questioning look at Max, who shrugged. No help there. Alex was fiddling with his iPhone.

Brian took a deep breath. There was no delicate way to put this. “Max built an airplane, and we flew it.”

“You built a toy airplane?” said Alex's dad. “Like radio controlled? There's no way you could have built a real plane.” He rubbed his hand over his bald spot.

“Why doesn't anyone ever believe me?” Max whispered.

“
Blackbird
is totally real,” Alex said. “Brian and I flew it, flew
on
it, yesterday.”

He finished messing with his iPhone and held it up, showing the video of
Blackbird
in action. Everyone went still and quiet as they watched, except for little Katie, who kept smiling at Brian.

As the video ended, the adults all seemed to erupt into conversation at once.

“You could have been hurt flying around on that thing!” Brian's mom said.

Mrs. Mackenzie leaned forward in her seat. “You didn't even wear a helmet?”

“Were you working from a kit or plans you found online?” Dr. Warrender asked.

Max cut in, “Actually, I designed
Blackbird
myself.”

Mr. Warrender raised an eyebrow. “The results are remarkable.”

“Even if the methods are a bit unorthodox,” Dr. Warrender added. Max's parents were the only ones smiling, though his mom looked like she was trying to conceal it. Max made no effort to hide his big grin.

“You were supposed to be grounded, Brian,” Mom said. “Am I going to have to send you to your grandfather's house after school to make sure you don't go running off before I get home?”

Brian risked eye contact with Grandpa. The old man seemed very serious, but there was a little gleam in his eye. He only nodded.

Alex's father stood up, still rubbing his bald spot. “You boys will be in junior high next year. It's time for you to start being serious and thinking about your reputations and your futures. This kind of … cowboy stuff won't help you.”

Brian thought he heard Alex laugh just a little bit. Cowboy stuff? Futures? Fixing the future of Synthtech was what the whole flyer thing was all about. At least, that was how it started. He looked over at Max and Alex. The
Blackbird
project had become a lot more than just a cool experiment or a way to help Dad's company.

Dr. Warrender frowned. “The material of that plane looked rather familiar. What is it made from?”

“Yeah.” Brian kept up that business smile until his cheeks hurt. “It's Plastisteel.” He held up his hand against the outburst from his dad and Dr. Warrender.

“I'm sorry,” said Mrs. Mackenzie. “Plasti-what?”

“It's my invention,” said Dr. Warrender. She explained Plastisteel and Synthtech to Alex's family. Alex's dad raised his eyebrows, and his mom looked similarly impressed. Dad's face was bright red as he glared at Brian. Instead of being angry, Brian's mother turned away and wiped tears from her eyes.

“Just wait a second,” Brian cut in. Alex elbowed him, and he remembered his manners. “Please.” He tried to act casual. “When we borrowed … stole the materials for the flyer, we didn't realize how difficult it would be for you all to make more.”

“Brian, we needed that Plastisteel,” Dr. Warrender said. “Do you have any idea how important it was?”

“As regards the theft,” said Max. “I was the one who actually —”

“Who actually was mad at me for stealing —” Brian started, trying to keep Max from taking all the blame.

“We were all in on that part together,” Alex said. “We are very sorry.”

“Brian, the least you could have done was think about the future of your family's business,” Dad said. “If you hadn't stolen the Plastisteel, we might have had some compelling demonstration for Mrs. Douglas or even —”

“That's what I'm trying to tell you,” Brian said. “We contacted Mrs. Douglas and showed her video footage of our flight. She was so impressed that she agreed to —”

“What!” Brian's dad yelled. “You had no right to contact my business associate!”

“Oh, relax, Jack!” Mrs. Douglas herself stood in the entryway to the living room. “The door was open. Hope you don't mind that I let myself in.”

Brian whispered to Alex, “It's about time she showed up.”

Dad clapped his hands together and grinned. “Not at all, Mrs. Douglas. What an unexpected pleasure.”

“Not unexpected at all! These fine young gentlemen in their sharp ties invited me.”

Brian's dad wiped his forehead. “We were just discussing —”

“I know. I could hear your discussion all the way out in the street.” She noticed Alex's dad. “Hello, Josh. How's business?”

“Helen. Great to see you again. Business is … um … great.”

Mrs. Douglas looked unimpressed. “I'll bet.”

“How's your car running?” Mr. Mackenzie asked.

“Perfectly, of course. If not, you'd be hearing from me.”

“Happy to help!” Mr. Mackenzie said with a big fake grin. “Anything for you.”

Was there no end to the kissing up to Mrs. Douglas? Brian wondered.

“Incredible machine,” Mrs. Douglas said.

“Well, Lexus builds the best, I always say,” said Mr. Mackenzie.

“I'm sure you say that, especially since you sell them,” said Mrs. Douglas. “But I was talking about a different incredible machine.” She reached into her purse and pulled out an iPad. “Craziest thing. I received this video clip in my e-mail last night.” She touched the screen a couple times and showed them the video of
Blackbird
swooping around Riverside. “Ding-dangedest thing I ever saw. Look at her go! Oh, watch this part where she flies right between those towers. Woo!” She smiled. “I love that. Then I laughed and laughed so hard at the part coming up where they poop-bomb some kid in the park. A poop bomb! That's funny!”

She glared at everyone else in the room. Dad laughed first, and then the rest of the adults joined in.

Brian watched Frankie getting splattered on the video. “I thought you were taking that part out,” he whispered to Alex. Alex shrugged.

“I saw the video of this amazing aircraft, and I could almost hear my mama talking to me.” Mrs. Douglas held up her right hand and looked up. “She said, ‘Angel, I know you don't need any more money. You're richer than fling fiddle! But look at that plane fly! Made out of crazy magic plastic. You're over sixty and your fourth husband bores you to tears. Have a little fun. You deserve it!'” She put her hand down and looked at the others. “Don't I deserve it?”

“Absolutely!” Dad said.

“Of course,” said Mr. Mackenzie.

“I think so,” said Mom.

“That's what I thought,” said Mrs. Douglas. “So I decided I'd come down here today and see if there was anything my money and I could do to help you whoop up this magic plastic faster.” She tapped her iPad screen a few times and then handed the device to Brian's father. “And we'll have to hurry, because I took the liberty of talking to some friends of mine who work in engineering and manufacturing, and they just might be interested in making some very substantial purchases.”

Dad's business smile disappeared when he saw whatever was on the screen. His mouth fell open. “Um … Are you serious about these numbers?”

“Sweetheart,” Mrs. Douglas said, “with dollar amounts that large, I'm always serious. So why don't you let the kiddies here go play so we can talk real business?”

“Mrs. Douglas,” Mom said, “they've done something that requires they be disciplined.”

“What?” Mrs. Douglas acted like this was the most outrageous news she'd ever heard. “These perfect little angels in trouble? What? You afraid they're going to get hurt with their little airplane?”

“Where is this airplane now?” Max's dad asked.

“Yes, let's make sure there are no more of these dangerous flights,” said Mom.

“We don't have it anymore,” Brian said almost without thinking. All eyes were on him. Mrs. Douglas smiled at him, tapping her lower lip. “Because …” He risked a quick glance at Max and Alex. “Because we sold it to Mrs. Douglas. For her … you know …”

Mrs. Douglas narrowed her eyes at Brian, but it was clear she was amused. “You've been yelling at these boys so much, you didn't even give them the chance to tell you that I done bought the plane already! It's on display in my little showroom in Iowa City, along with my Jet Ski, my snowmobile, my motorcycles, and my Corvette. So you don't have to worry about any more trouble from that. Besides, I'm sure you're much more interested in discussing how to get your Plastisteel operation up and running.”

Dad showed the iPad to Mom. Her eyebrows went up a little. “Well, that's … um … certainly very generous of you, Mrs. Douglas.” She handed back the iPad, and her eyes found Dad's. They couldn't hide their happiness. Dad even reached out and took Mom's hand.

Mrs. Douglas smiled and waved her comment away. “Oh, baby doll, that's not generous at all. For me, that's cheap! Now.” She secretly winked at Brian, Max, and Alex. “Should we talk a little business?”

A short time later, the boys scrambled through the tunnel into the Eagle's Nest. Alex had stopped by his kitchen at home across the street and brought back sodas and a bag of cheese puffs.

Alex fired up Max's computer to check the
Blackbird
video online. He rubbed his knuckles under his chin. “Over ten thousand views already! If it keeps up like this, the TV and magazine people will be
begging
to tell our story.”

Max frowned. “While I appreciate your single-minded devotion to profit, I still don't understand why Mrs. Douglas lied to get us out of trouble. Clearly we didn't sell
Blackbird
to her or anyone else.” He looked at Alex. “Right?”

“Give me a little credit, Max. If we sold the flyer today, we'd make only a tenth of what it will be worth a few weeks from now.”