Ширли Мерфи - The Flight Of The Fox

CHAPTER 16

they returned to the hangar, and while Rory wiped some oil spatters from the belly of the Fox, Charlie sat in the sun holding the lemming in his cupped hands to keep him warm. Crispin did not move. The flicker, having returned with them, waited silently beside Charlie for the little animal to revive. Charlie chafed the lemming's paws and kept his head lower than his feet, which he remembered you should do from reading a first aid book. He could remember nothing else that had to do with shock, only some information about tourniquets and snakebite that didn't apply at all.

Crispin had bled from several wounds, and they washed them. Rory said it was only the skin that was cut. The lemming's skin was very loose, it pulled away easily from his body like a loose coat, and the starlings' beaks had pierced only that loose skin. But even though he had only surface wounds he slept on.

As Charlie held Crispin, he looked at the flicker waiting there so concerned, and he wanted to ask the big bird about his family. But if he had found them, wouldn't they be with him now? And if he had not, such a question would be painful.

But Rory was not one to let things lie. He studied the flicker, and finally he said, "No luck yet?" The flicker shook his head.

They were silent. The sun shone down. The rust and new grass sparkled in the summer brightness, but the three were wrapped in gloom at the loss of the flicker's family and at the thought that the lemming might never wake again.

Life seemed to Charlie without purpose when such things could happen.

Life seemed to Rory diabolical in its twistings, a puzzle. He wished he had somehow protected the lemming from those starlings.

And then suddenly, the lemming stirred. He took hold of Charlie's thumb and pulled himself up. He stared around him vaguely. He looked at Charlie. He stared down at Rory and at the flicker. And his expression was blank. He recognized none of them.

The flicker departed at last, saddened by Crispin's condition, but committed to the search for his family. Rory and Charlie stared at the confused lemming until Rory, able to stand it no longer, went off toward the center of the dump.

The lemming curled up in a tight little ball and closed his eyes, as if there was nothing in the world he cared to look at. Charlie put him on his cot and covered him with his blue blanket, then practiced lobbing rocks at a tin can and wished it were a starling. Pretty soon Rory came back dragging a small transistor radio he had spotted some time before. "If you could get batteries for this thing, sonny, maybe it would cheer the little fellow. And cheer me, too. I've got used to his chatter, I guess. I don't think I can stand this silence."

Charlie took the batteries out of his bike light. They fit, but the radio wouldn't play. "No one would throw it away if it could play," he grumbled irritably. "Besides, how can you think about a radio when—when ..."

"Sonny, with a small sick kangaroo rat or a puppy, you need something talking and comfortable to make them feel secure. Maybe it's the same with a hurt lemming. Now try the connections and see if they're loose!"

Charlie bent the copper connections, slipped the batteries back in, and turned the switch. The radio bleated. He turned it down and set it near the lemming, who seemed only vaguely aware of it.

Rory swept out the hangar, dusted off the plane, and made some minor adjustments to the engine. The radio played rock, and then the news came on. Charlie found a Hershey bar in his pocket, and he and Rory shared it. When they offered a little bit to Crispin, he looked appalled at the smell and turned his head away. Charlie and Rory discussed what to do for him, but could think of nothing helpful. Then they turned to thinking up schemes to get rid of the starlings, but nothing seemed good enough to try. There was not a starling to be seen this afternoon, as if they had satisfied their hunger for making folks miserable, at least for a little while. The radio played softly, and finally the lemming snuggled up to it.

Late in the afternoon Charlie and Rory nailed the plywood over the hangar, left a crack for the door, and went out to the dump to scrounge, just for something to do. The lemming was still sleeping.

Charlie found a toy saucepan that would be useful on the trip, and Rory discovered a bit of fleece that would make a warm coat for the youngster. "Get's cold flying," he muttered, and they both thought the same thing. Would the youngster be flying? Or would he just continue to lie on his bunk and not know them?

"Maybe—maybe a doctor or a veterinarian—" Charlie began.

"There ain't no bones broken, sonny, but maybe . . ."

And at that moment they heard Crispin shout and looked up to see the youngster running toward them. "Rory! Charlie!" The youngster knew their names! But what was he shouting?

"Mary Starr Colver! Mary Starr Colver!"

Charlie and Rory stared at each other, puzzled. Had the youngster slipped a cog? Why would he be shouting the name of the lady who had sent the spark plugs? The lemming scorched to a stop in front of Rory. "Mary Starr Colver, she was on the news," he squeaked, almost too excited to talk.

"Mary Starr Colver?" Charlie said. "Why would she . . ."

"It said," Crispin panted, " 'Our salute for today to—to Mary Starr Colver' and—oh, something about her being the foremost woman in American avi— avi . . ."

"Aviation?" Rory and Charlie both said together.

"Yes. And about how she's won air races in her own plane, and about how courageous she was after it happened."

'After what happened, sonny?"

" I don't know. A commercial for soap flakes came on."

Charlie and Rory stared at the lemming.

Finally Rory said, "We've been writing to a woman pilot! Well how about that!"

"So that's why she's interested in model planes," Charlie said. "But if she's a pilot, for Pete's sake, why does she bother with models?"

" I don't know, Charlie, but she was on the news and she's famous." The little animal looked as bright and eager as he ever had. There were only the scratches now to show for his terrible experience aloft.

CHAPTER 17

when Charlie woke the next morning, he found Skrimville in a frenzy of excitement as it prepared to put into effect yet another plan. Mrs. Critch was all worked up and had already hauled the ladder out of the garage so Charlie could climb up on the roof. He could see ladders being hauled out all down the street.

"The hardware store has already sold out of black paint, Charlie. I got the last of it. Mr. Gross was mixing all the other colors together into five gallon buckets to make more black—or a kind of dirty gray. Eat your breakfast now so you can get up on the roof. Here—here is the picture you have to copy onto the shingles. Only you have to make it bigger, of course, so it looks like real bird shadows." The picture was a Xerox copy of a page from a bird guide, showing the silhouettes of eagles and hawks and other birds of prey. "The mayor made two hundred of these copies, to pass around. He says if we paint silhouettes on all the roofs to look like the shadows of those big birds flying over, it will scare the starlings away."

"It will?"

"Well—well, the mayor said it would. He said we should try it, Charlie."

"Nothing else has worked," Charlie said, buttering his toast. "Those birds aren't even afraid of cannon. What makes him think—"

"Well he said, the mayor said, that even if they're not afraid of cannon, every bird is afraid of a bigger bird that can grab him."

At Mrs. Critch's insistance, Charlie painted six eagle silhouettes across the roof. Then he took himself off to the dump as fast as he could before she decided she wanted more. All over Skrimville people were climbing around on their rooftops painting madly. Charlie had to grin. He wished Rory and Crispin could see the commotion. He bet those shadows painted on the roofs would look really impressive from the sky. Maybe, he thought, if the silhouettes really did frighten the starlings away, Rory and Crispin could fly the Fox right over Skrimville once to get the full effect of the rooftops—just before they took off on their trip.