Trent Reedy - Stealing Air

“Not again!” Alex yelled.

No. Not again. Everything was riding on this flight: saving the company, beating Frankie — everything. They had to fly now. Brian shouted to Alex, “We gotta lose some weight! We’re too heavy for takeoff. Drop one of the sacks!”

“I can’t!” Alex yelled back. “ Blackbird is balanced. If I dump one sack, we might tip over.”

“Then drop one bag and center the other!”

“It’s cow poop, dude! These bags are soaked through with it!”

“Alex, drop a bag! Do it now, or we’re not going to make it!”

Alex screamed as he pushed one sack of manure soup onto the street and pulled the other into his lap. “Aw man, you owe me a new pair of pants!”

Brian squinted his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Come on, baby. Come on, baby,” he whispered. He held the yoke in one hand and patted the wing with the other. “Now, girl!” Blackbird rose up two feet. Then three. Four feet. She kept rising, speeding up.

“The tow rope!” Alex shouted.

“Oh crap!” Brian had almost forgot. He yanked the red lever. The rope fell away. Seven feet. Eight. They soared up into the sky. Brian could feel himself pushed down into his seat.

“Warp speed!” he shouted.

Power lines crossed the road ahead. Brian slammed the yoke forward and the flyer dove down under them, but he still ducked. When they were clear of the cables, he pulled up, bringing Blackbird a hundred feet above the trees. He worked the foot pedals to operate the tail rudder and pushed the yoke to the right, banking to starboard. In a moment they flew over Carl Jacobs Park in the middle of the square downtown. He leveled the wings and steered just with the rudder.

They were flying. Really flying. All the hard work had paid off. Blackbird was airborne.

“Woooooo!” Brian shouted. “This is awesome!”

“We’re flying! We are flying!” Alex laughed. “This is so fun, I almost don’t even care that a sack of manure’s in my lap. We’re really, really flying!”

Grandpa’s farm was ahead to the right. The giant barn appeared small from up here. Brian thought back to when he and Alex had first swung from the rope in the hayloft, wondering what it would be like to be higher. Now they knew. He pulled back and right on the yoke and Blackbird soared up and to the north.

“Brian,” Alex shouted. “Max is on the radio. He says something like the NX-03 rocket was a success.”

“That just means the rocket burned out safely,” Brian called back. “His first two rockets exploded after ignition.”

They were flying high now over the north woods. Brian laughed out loud. “This is the greatest! Let’s get crazy!” He pushed the yoke forward and to the right, diving and banking tightly. The trees below seemed to grow as Blackbird dropped closer to them.

“Um, Brian?” Alex said.

“I’ve got it.” He straightened their roll and pulled the yoke to bring Blackbird out of her dive. There was a little bump. “What was that?”

“Dude, the back wheels just clipped the top of that tree!”

“Whoops.” Brian wiped his forehead and brought Blackbird over Riverside, heading south toward the river. He banked out in a wide curve to get a little room and then came in line with the river, about two hundred feet up. The giant white cement towers of the grain elevators were dead ahead.

“What are you doing?” Alex asked.

“She’s not a commercial jet. We built her to fly. Let’s really fly !” They drew closer and closer to the grain elevators. Brian centered Blackbird on the space between two of the towers, a gap of maybe six feet.

“Brian, look out!”

At the last moment he cranked the yoke to port, dipping the left wing down sharply and the right nearly straight up. There was a rush of displaced air as they shot through the small space, and a quick jerk of the yoke righted the wings. He pulled up. The American flag fluttered in the breeze on top of the towers behind them. “Yeah!”

“I’m so glad we put in seat belts,” Alex said.

Brian kept their raised pitch, letting Blackbird gain altitude while steering to the south. Soon they were even higher than they’d been with Mr. Piggly.

“Ground Control, this is Blackbird .” Alex must have been yelling into the radio. “That’s a good copy. Over.”

“What’s up?” Brian said.

“Max says he’s at the park. The target is in position, and we should begin Phase Four.”

“Roger that,” Brian said. He reversed course to fly back north to Riverside. “Let’s see what Blackbird can do! I’m going to drop altitude again, and we’ll do a flyby pass of the park to see where Frankie is. Then we’ll bring her around for our attack run.”

“Yeah!” Alex shouted. “Come on, Blackbird ! You can do it!”

He’d been waiting for this moment. Brian pushed forward on the yoke. He felt his body lighten in his seat a little as the aircraft headed down. There was no way to gauge their speed, but it sure felt like they were flying faster. He worked the foot pedals to adjust the tail rudder and keep them in line with the park. They were up maybe three hundred feet.

In a few minutes, they were close enough for Brian to turn to port. Down below, little dots of people had gathered near the skate ramps in Riverview Park. Brian slammed the yoke forward and Blackbird dove at a steep angle. Alex let out a whoop behind him, but Brian focused on the maneuver. He could feel the aircraft shaking. The park and the kids in it appeared to grow larger. Some of them were shouting and pointing up at Blackbird .

Frankie had his hand up, keeping the sun out of his eyes to get a better look at the approaching aircraft. “There you are,” Brian said quietly to himself. Frankie started moving off toward home.

“He’s trying to get away!” Alex yelled.

“Not a chance!” Brian banked the flyer and shot down again to cut him off. They swooped by only about four feet from the ground, close to a dozen feet in front of Frankie. People, trees, ramps passed by in a blur. Brian pulled up, soaring back into the air. They were past the park already. He used the river as a ground guide to maneuver to port and get lined up with the park again.

“Let’s do it!” Brian yelled.

“Ground Control, this is Blackbird ,” Alex said. “We are in position now. We’re starting our approach for the attack run. Over!” There was a pause. “Roger that, Ground Control. That’s a good copy. Talk to you after it’s over. Blackbird out!”

“You ready, Alex?” Brian asked. Riverview Park was coming into range again. He eased the flyer down to maybe two hundred feet.

“Max says he’s worked out the geometry,” Alex yelled. “We need to pass about three feet above Frankie’s head, then it’s bombs away when we’re eight feet in front of him. Whoa!”

Brian pushed the yoke forward and Blackbird plummeted toward the ground. They picked up speed as they descended, moving so fast that the flyer shook again. All the kids were watching them. Some clapped. Some pointed. Frankie moved a little to the right. Brian adjusted course to keep him centered.

“Brian, are you sure she’ll pull out of this?”

“Get ready, Alex!” They had seconds until they were in range. One poop bomb, one shot. He brought Blackbird out of her dive so they’d just barely pass above Frankie. Thirty feet. Fifteen. Eight. “Now! Now! Now!”

“Bomb away!” Alex shouted.

Brian pulled back on the yoke to bring Blackbird back up, but he didn’t even watch where they were flying. Instead, he looked back to see the blob of thick wet manure expand. The soupy dark brown poop slammed into Frankie so hard that he went flying back off his feet. He flailed his arms, landing on his butt.