The Amazing Flight of Darius Frobisher (17 page)

Darius’s bike didn’t have a seventh gear. The sixth gear was enough for him. “I don’t care,” he said. “I’m not racing. Let’s go back down.”

“No way,” said Anthony. He seemed to have completely forgotten where he was and what he was doing. “Watch me when I go into seventh gear.”

Darius looked on as Anthony pushed the shifter to the last gear. The larger bike paused and hovered in the air.

“Hey, nothing’s happening with this stupid gear,” Anthony said. He wrenched the gear shifter back and forth.

And then, slowly at first, the bike began to shudder and quiver. It jittered and wobbled more and more in the air, like it was being shaken by a giant pair of hands.

“Hey! What’s going on? Hey!” Anthony pedaled backwards, then forwards, shoving the shifter back and forth as the bike vibrated more and more violently. Darius watched from a short distance away, unsure of what to do.

“Help!” Anthony called out, “Something’s wrong. Somebody help!” The shaking became so wild, so violent, that he began to lose his balance. He clung on to the handlebars as the bike bucked up and down. Then, with one giant vibration, it threw him off the seat, and he was dangling from the handlebars with his legs kicking in the air in front of the bike. The bicycle rocked and twisted as if it were trying to throw him out of the sky.

“I’m gonna fall! I’m gonna fall!” Anthony screamed. “Help. Help meeeee!” He whimpered and sobbed as his hands slipped from the handlebars and down the side of the front forks that held the front wheel. Both hands grabbed hold of the bottom of the wheel as it rocked back and forth. In a moment he would fall.

The end of Anthony.

What do you think? What would you do?

Darius didn’t even think. He pedaled his bike up toward Anthony and positioned his rear fender right under Anthony’s dangling legs.

“I’ve got you, Anthony,” Darius called. “Sit on the fender. Grab my shoulders.”

For once in his life, Anthony listened.

His legs slid down on either side of Darius’s rear wheel, and when he was sitting on the rear fender of the red bike, he let go
of the bucking, twisting bicycle. With Anthony’s weight added, Darius’s bike dropped suddenly in the sky. Darius pedaled hard, and the bike rose again, balancing gently in the air. He looked up at Anthony’s bike, still twisting and shaking above them.

And then, there was a clear, bell-like sound, as if someone had gently tapped a beautiful crystal glass with a fork or a spoon.

Pling!

With that sound, the twisting, turning bike vanished into thin air.

“Wow,” said Darius. “Did you see that?”

But Anthony was too busy sobbing behind him to notice what had happened.

“Get me down from here,” the older boy wailed. “Get me down right now.”

Darius pedaled slowly, and the bike began to descend. It was a long way down, and Darius began to turn the bike in slow, graceful circles. He enjoyed every moment in the air, even with Anthony whimpering behind him. Below, Darius saw Daedalus’s yard and the grown-ups looking up at him.

Miss Hastings was waving her arms. “Yoo-hoo,” she called. “Yoo-hoo! Here! Come back here!”

Darius circled round and round until at last the tires touched down on the pavement on the street near Daedalus’s house. With all the adults watching, he coasted to a stop directly in front of them.

18
Back on Earth

G
ertrude Gritbun waddled up to the bike as Darius came to a stop.

“Anthony. My Anthony! Are you all right?”

Her son practically fell off the rear fender and struggled to his feet. He wiped his face with his hands, hoping to hide his tears. Darius climbed off the bicycle, lay it on the ground, and ran to Miss Hastings.

“Miss Hastings! I thought I’d never see you again!”

“Oh my,” Miss Hastings said, “How terrible that would have been!”

Darius hugged her and she hugged him back. She smelled like lemons and felt like home. As they held each other, Darius felt another pair of arms around both him and his old housekeeper. Daedalus had joined them, and they were all wrapped up together.

But their reunion was quickly disturbed. Anthony had recovered and was back to being his usual self. “You!” he said, pointing at Daedalus. “Your stupid bike almost killed me! I almost fell!”

“Hmm,” said Daedalus with a bemused look on his face, “it seems to me that you owe Darius a thank-you.”

“Thank him?” said Anthony, “Why should I thank him? If it wasn’t for him, I never would have been on that dumb bike.”

“I told you not to get on that bike,” Daedalus said. “You heard me very well, but you didn’t listen.”

“You shouldn’t have bikes like that lying around,” said Gertrude Gritbun. “My son could have been hurt. Maybe we’ll sue.”

“That is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Miss Hastings. “Your son doesn’t listen and you blame someone else. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Daedalus tried to stop him and got pushed over for his trouble. And if it wasn’t for Darius, this boy would have died. Darius saved his life. We all know it.”

Gertrude Gritbun spluttered and Colonel Crimper grimaced. Aunt Inga sniffed. But no one said anything because they knew it was true.

“Whatever,” mumbled Anthony. He looked at the ground and scowled.

You probably want Anthony to apologize and thank Darius.

No chance.

“Miss Hastings,” Darius said, “How did you get here?”

“I took a bus last night. Yesterday I was unpacking a box I took with me from your father’s house. There were things from his desk I should have gone through before. You know how messy that desk was! Even those Figby and Migby people wouldn’t go through everything. I couldn’t bear to look at things right away. When I finally did, I found a letter in an envelope. He hadn’t even bothered to address it—he must have gotten sidetracked. Here it is.”

With trembling hands, Miss Hastings reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out an envelope. Everyone watched as she opened it and read.

Miss Hastings paused to gather herself, then continued. “So this morning I took a bus here. I called Daedalus from the bus station.”

“I picked her up on the tandem bicycle,” Daedalus said.

Miss Hastings sighed. “It was a call I should have made forty years ago.”

“I knew you were here,” said Darius. “I smelled the burnt toast.”

“Your bike was ready,” said Daedalus, “but you didn’t really need it.”

“It sure flew,” said Darius.

“Yes, it did,” Daedalus said with a grin.

Then Darius heard a hissing and spluttering. It was Aunt Inga. She was breathing heavily.

“Fine,” she said. “This is just a fine kettle of fish. Why should I expect anything different? You’ve been nothing but a burden to me, and what do I get from it? Nothing.”

“Aunt Inga—” Darius began.

“Aunt Inga!” she mimicked. “You listen to me, you—”

“No,” said Darius, quite sure of himself now. “You listen to me!”

“Hold on a minute there, soldier,” said Colonel Crimper.

“I am not a soldier, and I never want to be one.” Darius paused, taking a deep breath. Something inside him knew what was right and true, and he had to speak. “I have some things to say.” Darius had never spoken so forcefully before and his whole body was trembling.

“Aunt Inga,” Darius began again. “I’m not coming back. I knew from the beginning you didn’t want me to live with you. From the first time you saw me you have been mean to me. You’re so wrapped up in yourself, you don’t even know how mean you are! I was sad and alone, and you were never nice to me. Not even for a minute. You never even hugged me. Not one hug!”

It was very quiet. No one moved.

“And you hid Miss Hastings’s letters. You lied to me! Why did you do that? Why did you lie?”

Darius glanced around at the other grown-ups. Daedalus and Miss Hastings were nodding their heads. Colonel Crimper was grimacing, as if he’d seen a creature from deep space. Then Darius looked back at his aunt. He was waiting for her to yell. But she didn’t.

Instead, her mouth formed an O like a small donut, and the color drained from her angry red cheeks. She breathed in and out noisily, sounding like an air pump. Her bottom lip began to quiver. It quivered and shook until it was positively flapping up and down like the mouth of a balloon letting out all of its air.

And then Darius saw her hand go toward her eyes. She was wiping away a tear.

Aunt Inga was crying.

In spite of how angry he had been at Aunt Inga and how much he wanted to get away from her, Darius did feel a little sorry for her. Aunt Inga was deflating in front of him like a punctured inner tube. “No one ever understands all the hardships I have to endure,” she blubbered. “Those Migby Figby people took advantage of me. I should never have let them talk me into taking in a needy little boy. I don’t know what to say to children. I never understood them. And I barely have the resources to keep myself going. I knew nothing good would come of it.”

Aunt Inga sniffled and snorted. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then wiped her hand on her dress. “I took those letters for your own good. There was no point in giving them to you so you could cry and go on about your beloved babysitter. I knew you didn’t like me from the beginning. No one likes me.”

Mrs. Gritbun walked over to Aunt Inga and patted her shoulder. “There, there, Ingy. I like you.”

“Oh,” sniffled Aunt Inga, “you just like my cookies.”

“No, no, no,” protested Gertrude. “I like you. I really do. Although I must admit those cookies are tasty.”

“Ahem.” Colonel Crimper cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ma’am. Um … uh, Darius’s aunt—whatever your name is.”

Aunt Inga turned and glared at the colonel.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I no longer consider your nephew a suitable candidate for our academy. Insolence and delinquency we can fix. And we can correct a smart-aleck. But this creative stuff—disobeying direct orders, speaking up for himself, flying off on an unapproved vehicle—it has no place at Crapper. An insubordinate young man like this would disrupt all our discipline. It takes time and effort to take such behavior out of a
young boy. I’m afraid it’s too late for him.”

“You can’t fix me?” asked Darius, “You mean I’m already ruined? For life?”

“I’m afraid so, son. You’re a mess.”

“Hooray,” said Darius. “Hooray, hooray!”

“Hooray!” chorused Daedalus and Miss Hastings.

The colonel turned to Anthony. “As for you, soldier, all I can say is I’m disappointed. This fellow isn’t even a junior cadet, and he had to save you. It was a pathetic display of incompetence up there for everyone to see. Before you’re ever captain of the guard, I think you’ll need some seasoning. A little bathroom duty ought to help.”

Anthony’s shoulders slumped, and he looked as miserable as Darius had ever seen him. In spite of himself, Darius even felt a little sorry for Anthony.

“Yes, Colonel Crimper, sir,” Anthony said.

The colonel grabbed Anthony by the arm and led him to his big black car.

“Anthony, honey,” Gertrude Gritbun said. “Aren’t you going to say good-bye? How about a good-bye kiss?”

Anthony only raised his hand and shook his head as Colonel Crimper stuffed him in the car. A sad look passed over Gertrude Gritbun’s face. Now, Darius even felt a little sorry for her.

Everyone watched the car drive away.

“I’m quite tired,” said Aunt Inga in a small voice. “I’m going home.” She turned to leave.

“Wait for me, Ingy,” said Mrs. Gritbun. “I’ll walk with you.”

Aunt Inga and Anthony’s mother headed home. Darius was left standing with Miss Hastings and Daedalus.

“Welcome back to Earth,” said Daedalus. “I’m glad you came down.”

“It’s so good to see you,” said Miss Hastings.

“I had to come back,” said Darius. “When I was up there pedaling, I kept thinking and seeing all these things in my mind. At least, I think they were in my mind. I thought I saw my dad in a balloon. And then, I thought about the time my dad taught me to ride a bicycle. He let go, and at first I was afraid. Then I was really excited when I saw I could balance on my own. But the thing I remembered most clearly was riding back to my dad. ‘Come home,’ he called. ‘Come home, flyboy.’ Up there in the sky, I knew I could fly away on my own, but I wanted to come back. To both of you.”

“And that’s what we want,” said Miss Hastings. “Don’t you think so, Daedalus?” She looked up shyly at her old friend.

“Yes, indeed.” Daedalus nodded. “Yes, indeed.”

“Let’s go have a snack,” said Miss Hastings. “I think I have some toast in the toaster.”

“Okay,” said Darius, “but you have to tell me about everything. You have to tell me what happened to that bike up there.”

“All in good time,” said Daedalus. “I will as well as I can.”