Trent Reedy - Stealing Air

Max took off his glasses and handed them to Brian. He shook his head, took a deep breath, and then ran out to leap off the bales, gliding out into the open space below. Unlike Brian and Alex who kicked their legs at the far reach of the swing, Max wrapped his legs around the rope. He didn’t shout either, but simply swung back and landed on the hay.

He took his glasses back and put them on. “Now, can we please get the hardware the flyer requires and then return to our repair efforts?”

Brian held out a hand to help Alex up. “A deal’s a deal.”

“I just can’t believe we finally got him to try it. Welcome to the club.” Alex lightly slapped Max on the back. “That wasn’t bad for your first try.”

Max led the way down the ladder to the floor of the barn. “I fail to understand why these sorts of initiation rituals always have to involve some sort of risky physical stunt.”

“Risky like flying an experimental aircraft?” Alex asked.

Brian laughed out loud at that.

“I mean, who decided the only way to be cool is to swing on a rope like this or do a skateboard jump?” Max said. “Why doesn’t anyone ever say, ‘Prove you’re one of us by solving this complex mathematical equation,’ or ‘All the cool kids know the atomic weight of plutonium’? Why doesn’t anyone ever say, ‘Wow, that is so awesome that you understand the entire warp propulsion system for the U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-D from Star Trek: The Next Generation ’?”

Brian couldn’t figure out why people thought Star Trek was uncool. It was an awesome show. But he also wasn’t surprised when Alex shot him a look that said, This guy is such a nerd .

“I don’t know,” Brian said. “But that was a good swing.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “That was really cool, man.”

Max didn’t say anything else, but Brian swore he caught just the hint of a smile.

They skipped that night’s football game, spending the whole afternoon and evening opening up more of the wing to get the new pulley and cable in place. The trickiest part was hooking the cable from the aileron to the yoke. Brian couldn’t quite get his hands in the small space to make the connections.

They met again the next day to keep working. Brian squeezed the pliers so tightly his hands shook, trying to attach the cable to the yoke mechanism. Finally, he let go. “That should do it. Pull it,” he said to Alex.

The yoke moved to the left when Alex pulled the cable. “Seems secure.”

Brian wiped the sweat from his brow. “Now we just have to attach the other end to the aileron and then we can start to close it back up.”

“Chips first,” said Alex, reaching for the Doritos.

“Chips first,” Brian said.

Alex and Brian both took a handful. Max watched them from behind the engine, or rather from behind the pile of parts that used to be an engine before he had disassembled it. He had pored over diagrams in a dozen different books and from a bunch of websites, trying to determine how to improve its efficiency and speed, but it looked like he hadn’t gotten anywhere yet.

“Doritos, Max?” Brian asked.

“No, thank you. I’m quite busy and my hands are covered in engine oil.”

Alex climbed up on the table. “Then I’ll just pour some in your mouth. You won’t need to use your hands at all.”

“No, thank you. I’d really rather not.”

“Dude, I’m pouring these out whether or not you eat ’em. They’ll get into your engine if you don’t open wide right…”

Max groaned but put his head under the bag as Alex shook some chips into his mouth. “Shgoo,” he said. Pieces of chips fell out of his mouth. “’Sgood,” he said. Then he burst out with a laugh and bits of chips flew everywhere.

They all laughed. Alex picked out a single chip with just his orange fingertips. “You are a pig, Mr. Warrender.” He chomped down on the lone Dorito. Everyone laughed again.

Brian heard a buzzing sound. Alex wiped his hands on his pants, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and checked the screen before he started typing something back.

“To whom are you sending a text message?” Max asked.

“Hang on.” Alex kept pressing the screen. “There,” he said. “Just had to answer.”

Brian wished he had a phone. Then maybe he would get texts too. “Who texted you?”

“Oh, nobody. Just Red.” Alex checked the cable connection to the rudder. Then he went to the engine and looked over all the pieces, nodding as if confirming they were all still there. “Hey, you know what, guys?” He slapped his forehead. “I totally forgot. My parents… they have this thing… like, a dinner thing, and I have to go.”

“Right now?” Brian said.

Max’s face was completely emotionless. “On a Saturday afternoon?”

Alex checked his phone again. “Yeah…” he said slowly, obviously reading another text. “Well, not right now. But it’s a big dress-up thing with their friends.”

Max checked his calculator watch. “It’s only two forty-five.”

“Yeah, I know.” Alex headed for the tunnel. “I have to start getting ready. This is going to be so lame. Like wearing a tie. My sister Katie will be in some dumb dress.” He crawled down into the tunnel. “Well, awesome work today. Check you later.”

When he was gone, Brian and Max stared at the tunnel for a moment. Max had the same look on his face that he wore whenever Brian made up a pathetic excuse to ditch him at lunch.

“I’m glad I don’t have to go to some lame dinner with my parents’ friends.” Brian forced a little laugh. “He probably feels like a total loser right now, don’t you think?”

Max didn’t answer.

The next Wednesday, Brian came home after working in the Eagle’s Nest. As usual, he went to the fridge to find something to eat. He wondered if either of his parents would be home for dinner tonight. Since their arrival in Riverside, Dad had worked late in Iowa City with Dr. Warrender most evenings, while just Brian and Mom had supper. Those beat the nights Dad worked into the night and Mom had to stay late at the office. Then Brian just had microwaved leftovers or made a sandwich.

“Hey, buddy,” Dad said behind him. Brian jumped and spun around. Dad held his hands up. “Whoa. Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Where were you this afternoon?”

“Nowhere.” He backed up against the fridge. “Hanging out with Alex and Max.”

“Mom is working late, so it’s just you and me for supper.” Dad rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “I’ve been crunching numbers since noon. I need to get out. You heard of this Piggly’s restaurant?”

Brian nodded. “Big” Aaron Pineeda talked about it all the time, since his dad owned the place.

Dad put his arm around Brian’s shoulders and pulled him along. “All right, then. Let’s go.”

A little cyclone of dust spun in the wind as Dad pulled the car into the gravel lot at Piggly’s. The building had been painted a bright shade of pink, and the sign by the road, lit by pink neon lights, read Piggly’s: Home of the Legendary Big Porker Sandwich . An enormous pink pig balloon sat up on the roof, twenty-five feet across with a smile six feet wide. It looked like it was dancing as it jiggled in the breeze. Dad parked and they got out.

Brian opened the front door of the restaurant, and immediately an oink-oink, oink-oink sounded from a speaker on the wall. A bald man with a big belly spun away from the front counter where he had been talking to a bored-looking high school girl. He flashed a huge grin and held out his arms, looking a little like the grinning pig on the front of his apron. “Welcome! Welcome! Welcome to Piggly’s, gentlemen! I’m Ed Pineeda. Who might you be?”