Trent Reedy - Stealing Air

Dad held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Jack Roberts.”

Mr. Pineeda shook Dad’s hand so hard that Dad’s whole body jiggled. “Nice to meet you, Jack! How can I please your palate tonight? Some slow-roasted succulent ribs with Piggly’s SSSBS?”

Dad gave Brian a look like Is this guy for real? Brian had to ask. “What’s that?”

“Piggly’s Super Secret Special Barbecue Sauce!” Mr. Pineeda pinched together his thumb and forefinger, held them to his lips, and kissed them. “It’s so sweet, so tangy. Just a little kick. Mmmm. You’ll think you’re in hog heaven — wait! You are in hog heaven! Ha! It’ll make your mouth sing for joy! I’ll maybe start you with one of my noodle salads what comes with olives shipped in on a special armored truck from a secret supplier out of Des Moines!”

“It all sounds great,” said Dad. “Maybe we could just see a menu?”

“Certainly! Come right this way. I’ll get you a table and a couple menus. Lists of all the heavenly dee-lights that you’ll find here at Piggly’s.” Mr. Pineeda led them to a table and clapped his hands. “I’ll leave you gentlemen to the agony of choosing just a few treats from our broad selection, and the lovely Miss Kendra Hanson will be over in a bit to take care of you.”

They looked over the menus. Eventually, the high school girl came over, wearing a pink plastic pig snout on her nose. Dad put his fist over his mouth, trying to hide his laughter, but if this made the girl mad, she didn’t show it. “Hi welcome to Piggly’s home of the Big Porker I’m Kendra I’ll be your waitress tonight may I take your order?” she said all in one breath, without really looking at either of them. Brian sometimes felt bored when going over fractions in math class, but he’d never been as bored as this girl had just sounded.

They ordered a couple of sodas and their food, then a silence fell over the table. Brian and his father used to talk all the time. Tonight, though, neither seemed to have much to say. He looked around the restaurant. A number of plaques hung on the walls for things like Riverside’s Best Restaurant and Best Barbecue with the years of the awards. There were a few red and white Riverside Roughriders pennants. A shelf on another wall held bowling trophies and some pictures of Little League baseball teams wearing Piggly’s-sponsored uniforms.

A big pink pig on a poster on the wall behind Dad shouted in huge letters, PIGGLY’S PIG-OUT CONTEST . Brian read the details. The first contestant to eat a one-pound barbecue pork sandwich — the Big Porker — plus a side of Pig Tails, otherwise known as curly fries, would win Mr. Piggly, the huge, grinning pink balloon up on the roof. A whole pound of barbecue pork? That sounded awesome.

Dad’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “You know, I don’t really know anything about what you’ve been up to lately,” he said. Kendra brought the sodas over and thumped them down on the table. Dad switched his Pepsi with Brian’s Mountain Dew, which had been placed in front of him. He ran his fingers back through his hair. “I’m sorry I’ve been so… well… distant lately. It’s just… work, you know.”

Brian did know. Lately, when Dad talked, that was all he talked about.

“And I’ve been tense and no fun. I’m sorry. It’s just that we’re having trouble finding the money we need to make more Plastisteel and to make it faster. I thought Mrs. Douglas was going to come through, but she won’t accept just a simple demonstration. No, she’s like a kid playing with her money, and she wants us to build her some toys. She wants us to make her a Plastisteel car or robot or airplane or…”

Brian looked up sharply. “Don’t worry, Dad,” he said. “Things will work out.”

“We’re running out of time. There’s just no way we can synthesize enough Plastisteel for an effective demonstration that fast! If we don’t get a cash infusion soon…” Dad noticed Brian staring at him. “Sorry, buddy. You don’t want to hear about any of this stuff. Remember how I talked about taking a risk in order to achieve something great? Well, the thing about risk is that it can bring great success.” He took a drink of soda, but coughed. “Or it can bring failure.”

Brian couldn’t remember seeing his father like this before. He looked terrible, all shabby and worn down. There were dark circles under his eyes, and was that gray hair above his ears? If Dad needed money so badly, maybe Brian could convince Alex and Max to just hand the flyer over to Synthtech now so Dad and Dr. Warrender would have something to show Mrs. Douglas. He wanted to tell Dad about it, but he’d made a promise to the guys. He couldn’t betray them by ruining the whole secret.

“You’re not going to fail, Dad,” Brian said. “I really think your Plastisteel will impress that lady.” The flyer would make sure of that.

“I never give up, Brian,” Dad said quietly. “We’re exploring all options, but I think you should prepare for some tough times. I’m… I’m sorry I brought you to Iowa. I took you away from everything in Seattle….”

“No, Dad. It’s really great here. I’m having fun,” Brian said. It wasn’t a total lie. “I’ve been hanging out with Alex and Max. I can skateboard right in the street. And there’s the cool skate park.” Plus Wendy, as long as Frankie wasn’t around.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Brian said. “And here there’s a waitress who has to wear a pig snout.”

Dad laughed. Brian had never heard a better sound. “Well, thanks for that. Knowing you’re getting along okay here makes me feel a lot better. Listen, don’t worry about my business problems, all right? You just focus on school and making friends. All that normal stuff sixth grade boys are supposed to do. Okay?”

Brian nodded as the waitress brought their food. Sure, he should focus on the normal stuff — like secret workshops and homemade airplanes. But he couldn’t ignore Dad’s problems with the Plastisteel business, and it was time to do something about it.

That night after supper, Brian called Alex and Max for an emergency meeting in the Eagle’s Nest.

“No way!” Alex said as soon as Brian suggested they give up the flyer. “This is really what you called us here for? We’ve worked too hard on this thing. If the grown-ups get the plane, we’ll never get to fly it, and then we’ve lost all those publicity opportunities and the chance for big money.” He looked around as if worried someone else besides Brian and Max might be listening. When he spoke again, he was quieter. “Plus, our car dealership — it isn’t doing too good. My dad acts like everything’s fine, but our credit won’t hold out forever.”

“So maybe you won’t get the newest iPhone,” said Brian. “For me, this is a bigger deal.” Alex opened his mouth as if to say something, but Brian cut him off. “If Synthtech goes bankrupt, I’ll probably have to move again, and you can bet nobody will be using my grandpa’s shed like this if that happens.”

“I agree with Alex,” Max said. “We cannot give up the flyer. It isn’t ready to fly. It would be humiliating to present my mother and father with a project that does not work. They already have enough doubts about the likelihood of my future success.”

Brian paced to the far end of the workshop. “We have to do something!”

“But not give up the flyer,” said Max.

“Exactly,” said Alex. “There has to be another way to make this rich lady get the picture about how cool Plastisteel is without ruining our plans.”

Brian spun to face Alex. “What did you say?”

“Dude, we’re keeping the—”

“No, you said ‘get the picture’!” Brian hit himself in the forehead. “I’m an idiot!”