Trent Reedy - Stealing Air

The laser left the tracks. “Then we carry it off the rails through the woods to the grain elevators. There’s a new paved driveway there that should be long and smooth enough for a good takeoff. Additionally, it’s secluded, so we should remain unnoticed.”

He looked at Brian. “Once you’re airborne, you’ll need to gain altitude to clear the trees down by the river, then adjust the heading to starboard and fly south to stay out of town. The grain elevators are visible for miles and the American flag is always lighted on top, so you should be able to find your way back to the runway. A streetlight provides illumination on the driveway itself.”

“Starboard?” Alex asked.

Max sighed. “The starboard side is the right side.”

“‘Port’ means ‘left,’” said Brian.

“Well, why not just say ‘right’ or ‘left,’ then?”

Brian shrugged. “‘Starboard’ and ‘port’ sound way cooler.”

“Moreover, the noise of the engine and the wind will be significant, even despite the windshield,” Max said. “The monosyllabic words ‘right’ and ‘left’ might get mixed up, but ‘port’ and ‘starboard’ sound diff—”

“Okay, okay, ‘starboard’ right, ‘port’ left. I got it!” Alex took a long drink of his Mountain Dew. “So that’s the plan? What else do we need?”

“Just some gasoline,” Max said.

“Gas?” Alex asked.

“Yes, Alex,” said Max. “This modern internal combustion engine actually runs on gasoline.”

Alex shot Max a look that seemed to ask if he was serious. Brian couldn’t tell. Finally, Max’s neutral expression cracked and he laughed.

Alex tried to act like Max’s joke had insulted him, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “Well, I don’t know what this thing runs on, Mr. Scientist!” With a bob of his head, he let out a deep, long, vibrating belch, blowing it in Max’s face. Max turned away with his T-shirt pulled up over his mouth.

Brian reached out and high-fived Alex. “That was huge,” he spoke through his own belch. “But we still have to run preflight checks.”

“I checked over the controls last night,” said Max.

“Dad never took his Cardinal up without running his own checks,” Brian said.

“Are you sure you know how to do all that stuff?” Alex stuffed a handful of Doritos in his mouth.

“You’re worried about me doing preflight, but you’re just fine with me piloting the flyer?”

Alex spoke the best he could with his mouth full of chips. “Everybody is on my case today!” A few crumbs fell out of his mouth. Max held up the package of cookies and looked questioningly at Alex. “Dude, go ahead,” said Alex. “I brought them for you guys.”

Brian bent down and saw that Max had wedged pieces of wood in front of and behind the skateboard wheels to keep the flyer from rolling on the table. He climbed up into the pilot’s seat, letting his feet rest on the decks of the skateboards.

The small control panel behind the engine had only two levers. On the left was the throttle. He would push it up to increase speed, and pull it down to reduce power. In the center was the control stick, which looked like it had been salvaged from an old video game. He saw that Alex was watching.

“If I pull the yoke back,” Brian said, “the horizontal stabilizer flap in the tail goes up, so the tail goes down and the nose rises.” He pushed the yoke to the right. The flap at the back of the right-side wing went up, while the flap on the other wing went down. “With the yoke to the right, the starboard aileron goes up while the port side goes down, so the plane rolls to starboard.” He watched again to make sure everything was working right. Max had done a great job rigging all the interior cables and pulleys within the wings. “Yoke to the left, the ailerons go the opposite way and the flyer rolls to port.”

Brian put his feet on the pedals. He pushed the right one. “Right pedal down moves the tail rudder to the right, turning the aircraft to starboard.” It was all working fine. He tested the rudder to port as well. “She checks out, just like a real plane.”

“That’s because it is a real plane,” said Max. He pointed to a Plastisteel bar across the span between the skateboards in the back. Attached to the bar were two levers that operated two small, rubber-tipped pieces of metal. “This is the brake system. Upon landing, Alex will have to lower both levers simultaneously to lock the brakes to the ground.”

“Those look like little door stoppers.”

“That’s because they are door stoppers.”

Alex held his hands up. “Dude. Seriously.”

“If you have a better way of bringing eight skateboard wheels to a stop, please let me know.”

Alex made gun hands and dropped his thumbs to shoot Brian and Max. “Okay, you know your stuff. Both of you, actually.” He blew on the tips of his fingers like they were smoking.

“She’s ready to fly!” Brian stood up on the table, careful not to knock down any of the model planes. “Give me another Mountain Dew!”

Alex tossed him a soda. When Brian opened it, fizz shot out. He put his mouth on it and drank as fast as he could, trying not to laugh like the other two. When the fizz finally stopped, he put his hand to his throat. “Burns from chugging.”

“That is your punishment for standing up on top of the table,” Max said.

“Yeah,” said Alex. “If Gilbert caught you doing that at your desk, she’d revoke your… how did she say it?”

“She’d revoke your privilege of having a seat and force you to remain standing for an undetermined period of time,” Max said.

Even though Ms. Gilbert was nowhere around and the Eagle’s Nest was a total secret, Brian still felt compelled to get down and take a seat at the edge of the table. “What is with that lady anyway?”

Max frowned. “She is rather strict.”

They drank more soda and ate more chips and cookies while they joked and complained about school. After a while they agreed to go home for supper, only to return after dark for their first test flight. They really would fly tonight. Brian could hardly wait.

Brian was hoping that supper would be a sandwich on the go so he could get back to the Eagle’s Nest. But Dad had made spaghetti and meatballs, his favorite. He’d have to eat quickly, but he still planned to eat a lot.

“Slow down, Brian,” Mom said. “What’s your hurry? Your father made this nice meal. Enjoy it.”

Brian swallowed a large bite of meatball. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just so good.” He shoveled another meatball into his mouth.

“I mean it, Brian. Slow. Down. How was your first day of school?”

He didn’t want to tell them the truth, but he was happy not to have to lie. “Well, I made two new friends so far, these guys Alex and Max.” He spun some spaghetti around his fork and ate it quickly. “I was hoping to go hang out with them tonight.”

Dad was making notes on one of his spreadsheets. He didn’t look up when he spoke. “Max a good guy?”

Brian shrugged. “I guess so. Is that okay, if I go after supper?”

Dad didn’t answer. It was quiet. Was he angry? Mom put down her fork and rubbed her eyes, watching Dad writing on his paper.

“Jack? Are you all right?”

Dad shook his head. “What?” He looked up from his figures. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Mom sighed. “Jack, couldn’t you give work a rest, at least for dinner?”

“I know. I know. I just have to get this one thing worked out before I forget. Things are going…” He pressed his lips together tightly and blew out through his nose. “Could have really used that financial help.”

“You promised,” Mom whispered.

Dad put his pen down. “Fine. I’ll just stay up until two in the morning trying to figure out where we’re supposed to get money to improve production methods, but that’s fine.”