Trent Reedy - Stealing Air

“Brian, we needed that Plastisteel,” Dr. Warrender said. “Do you have any idea how important it was?”

“As regards the theft,” said Max. “I was the one who actually—”

“Who actually was mad at me for stealing —” Brian started, trying to keep Max from taking all the blame.

“We were all in on that part together,” Alex said. “We are very sorry.”

“Brian, the least you could have done was think about the future of your family’s business,” Dad said. “If you hadn’t stolen the Plastisteel, we might have had some compelling demonstration for Mrs. Douglas or even—”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Brian said. “We contacted Mrs. Douglas and showed her video footage of our flight. She was so impressed that she agreed to—”

“What!” Brian’s dad yelled. “You had no right to contact my business associate!”

“Oh, relax, Jack!” Mrs. Douglas herself stood in the entryway to the living room. “The door was open. Hope you don’t mind that I let myself in.”

Brian whispered to Alex, “It’s about time she showed up.”

Dad clapped his hands together and grinned. “Not at all, Mrs. Douglas. What an unexpected pleasure.”

“Not unexpected at all! These fine young gentlemen in their sharp ties invited me.”

Brian’s dad wiped his forehead. “We were just discussing—”

“I know. I could hear your discussion all the way out in the street.” She noticed Alex’s dad. “Hello, Josh. How’s business?”

“Helen. Great to see you again. Business is… um… great.”

Mrs. Douglas looked unimpressed. “I’ll bet.”

“How’s your car running?” Mr. Mackenzie asked.

“Perfectly, of course. If not, you’d be hearing from me.”

“Happy to help!” Mr. Mackenzie said with a big fake grin. “Anything for you.”

Was there no end to the kissing up to Mrs. Douglas? Brian wondered.

“Incredible machine,” Mrs. Douglas said.

“Well, Lexus builds the best, I always say,” said Mr. Mackenzie.

“I’m sure you say that, especially since you sell them,” said Mrs. Douglas. “But I was talking about a different incredible machine.” She reached into her purse and pulled out an iPad. “Craziest thing. I received this video clip in my e-mail last night.” She touched the screen a couple times and showed them the video of Blackbird swooping around Riverside. “Ding-dangedest thing I ever saw. Look at her go! Oh, watch this part where she flies right between those towers. Woo!” She smiled. “I love that. Then I laughed and laughed so hard at the part coming up where they poop-bomb some kid in the park. A poop bomb! That’s funny!”

She glared at everyone else in the room. Dad laughed first, and then the rest of the adults joined in.

Brian watched Frankie getting splattered on the video. “I thought you were taking that part out,” he whispered to Alex. Alex shrugged.

“I saw the video of this amazing aircraft, and I could almost hear my mama talking to me.” Mrs. Douglas held up her right hand and looked up. “She said, ‘Angel, I know you don’t need any more money. You’re richer than fling fiddle! But look at that plane fly! Made out of crazy magic plastic. You’re over sixty and your fourth husband bores you to tears. Have a little fun. You deserve it!’” She put her hand down and looked at the others. “Don’t I deserve it?”

“Absolutely!” Dad said.

“Of course,” said Mr. Mackenzie.

“I think so,” said Mom.

“That’s what I thought,” said Mrs. Douglas. “So I decided I’d come down here today and see if there was anything my money and I could do to help you whoop up this magic plastic faster.” She tapped her iPad screen a few times and then handed the device to Brian’s father. “And we’ll have to hurry, because I took the liberty of talking to some friends of mine who work in engineering and manufacturing, and they just might be interested in making some very substantial purchases.”

Dad’s business smile disappeared when he saw whatever was on the screen. His mouth fell open. “Um… Are you serious about these numbers?”

“Sweetheart,” Mrs. Douglas said, “with dollar amounts that large, I’m always serious. So why don’t you let the kiddies here go play so we can talk real business?”

“Mrs. Douglas,” Mom said, “they’ve done something that requires they be disciplined.”

“What?” Mrs. Douglas acted like this was the most outrageous news she’d ever heard. “These perfect little angels in trouble? What? You afraid they’re going to get hurt with their little airplane?”

“Where is this airplane now?” Max’s dad asked.

“Yes, let’s make sure there are no more of these dangerous flights,” said Mom.

“We don’t have it anymore,” Brian said almost without thinking. All eyes were on him. Mrs. Douglas smiled at him, tapping her lower lip. “Because…” He risked a quick glance at Max and Alex. “Because we sold it to Mrs. Douglas. For her… you know…”

Mrs. Douglas narrowed her eyes at Brian, but it was clear she was amused. “You’ve been yelling at these boys so much, you didn’t even give them the chance to tell you that I done bought the plane already! It’s on display in my little showroom in Iowa City, along with my Jet Ski, my snowmobile, my motorcycles, and my Corvette. So you don’t have to worry about any more trouble from that. Besides, I’m sure you’re much more interested in discussing how to get your Plastisteel operation up and running.”

Dad showed the iPad to Mom. Her eyebrows went up a little. “Well, that’s… um… certainly very generous of you, Mrs. Douglas.” She handed back the iPad, and her eyes found Dad’s. They couldn’t hide their happiness. Dad even reached out and took Mom’s hand.

Mrs. Douglas smiled and waved her comment away. “Oh, baby doll, that’s not generous at all. For me, that’s cheap! Now.” She secretly winked at Brian, Max, and Alex. “Should we talk a little business?”

A short time later, the boys scrambled through the tunnel into the Eagle’s Nest. Alex had stopped by his kitchen at home across the street and brought back sodas and a bag of cheese puffs.

Alex fired up Max’s computer to check the Blackbird video online. He rubbed his knuckles under his chin. “Over ten thousand views already! If it keeps up like this, the TV and magazine people will be begging to tell our story.”

Max frowned. “While I appreciate your single-minded devotion to profit, I still don’t understand why Mrs. Douglas lied to get us out of trouble. Clearly we didn’t sell Blackbird to her or anyone else.” He looked at Alex. “Right?”

“Give me a little credit, Max. If we sold the flyer today, we’d make only a tenth of what it will be worth a few weeks from now.”

“I made all that up,” Brian said. “That stuff about selling Blackbird . I took a chance that Mrs. Douglas was on our side. She’s rich and bored and just wants to have fun with her money. What’s more fun than watching guys like us zip around on an experimental aircraft?”

“So our parents believe we no longer have Blackbird . We’ll have to work on it in secret again,” Max said.

“Yeah, starting with its brakes.” Alex handed sodas to Brian and Max. “I can’t afford to keep buying new shoes if our future landings go like our first one.”

Brian took a drink of Mountain Dew. “I was thinking we should work on her engine. You know, with some more parts, maybe we could rebuild it so Blackbird could take off on her own.”

“But I thought we needed more Plastisteel for all that,” said Alex.

“Yeah, but maybe Mrs. Douglas—”