Stealing Air (10 page)

That was it!

He landed backward, skating for a while, but then waxing out in the flat bottom.

“Are you okay?” Wendy called down to him. “You almost had it!”

Brian's knees and elbow hurt, but he stood up with a smile. “I've got it! Everything is going to be great!”

The flyer couldn't get into the air because the engine didn't have enough power to overcome the drag and reach takeoff speed. But what if it wasn't slowed down by rolling along on the runway? What if there was a way to get rid of that drag force?

They both skated around the park for a while longer before heading off to school. A plan was coming together in Brian's mind. It was totally crazy. The odds were still stacked against them. But it just might work.

Brian spent most of that day waiting for his chance to get back to the Eagle's Nest. He only had to put up with a couple body checks from Frankie — more minutes off his time spent with Wendy. At least the idiot hadn't figured out that he skated with her that morning. When the class was dismissed for lunch, Brian stayed at his desk as he did most days, sketching out his plan, until Ms. Gilbert kicked him out of the room. When he finally made his way to the cafeteria, he didn't even bother with the lunch line, but simply took his pencil and notebook to an empty table and kept working.

That afternoon Brian was the first one out of the school. He stopped on the way to the Eagle's Nest to buy a bag of cheese puffs and three Mountain Dews. Hopefully the soda would help smooth things over a little after his outburst yesterday — that, and the new plan.

At the Eagle's Nest, Brian admired the flyer. Her streamlined wings and tail. The engine that was now mostly back together. She looked good, and she was going to fly. Soon.

Max came up out of the tunnel. “Brian, I didn't expect you to be here.” He wouldn't meet Brian's eyes.

“Alex coming?”

Max nodded. “I talked to him on the street out front. He's going to get his iPod speakers, and then he'll be right over.”

Brian put his bag on the east wall workbench, taking out his notebook. He saw the dent he'd made in cardboard Captain Kirk's chest.

“I'm very sorry for not telling you sooner about the stolen Plastisteel,” Max said. “I should never have stolen it in the first place. I just thought my parents might be impressed if I could show them a working flyer.”

Alex came up into the workshop. “Oh,” he said when he saw Brian. “What did I miss?”

“Max,” said Brian, “you shouldn't have stolen the Plastisteel, but Alex was right yesterday. We're all in this together now. We have to get this flyer airborne so we can impress Mrs. Douglas and get her to, well, basically save Synthtech.”

Brian was about to go on, but Max held up his hand to speak. “I might have improved the engine capacity by a very small amount, but there's only so much I can do without more Plastisteel. I don't believe the engine has enough power to overcome the drag.”

That was exactly what Brian had hoped he would say.

“Bingo,” he said. “What if I told you there's a way to eliminate all ground drag on takeoff?”

“That's impossible, right?” Alex said. “I mean, they're skateboards, not hoverboards. You're going to have some resistance from the wheels on the runway.”

“We're not going to take off from a runway.” He rolled out his drawing. It showed the flyer hanging by three cables from a giant balloon. A close-up sketch in the corner detailed the steel ring-and-pin release system that would attach the cables to the flyer.

“You propose to lift the flyer into the air?” Max said.

“Yeah,” said Brian. “We fill our balloon with helium and hoist the flyer really, really high. Then we start the engine in the air. The flyer won't have any problem building up speed since it'll already be off the ground.”

“We'll never be fast enough,” Alex said. “The balloon will be a giant parachute.”

“Once we top out our speed and we're dragging the balloon, we release the cables.”

“But your lack of forward velocity would then put the flyer into a rapid descent,” Max said.

“Big deal,” Brian said. “We'd be high up, and we'd be level. I just dip the nose forward a little and then level off. She'd come out of the fall and be flying under her own power with hundreds of feet to spare.”

Alex looked from Max to Brian and back again. “You seriously think this could work? Where do we even get a giant balloon?”

“This Saturday night, Mr. Pineeda is having a Pig-Out Contest where the prize is Mr. Piggly himself,” said Brian. “All you have to do is finish a Big Porker sandwich and some Pig Tails. I may not look like a big eater, but I can pack food away. I'm going to win that balloon.” Brian had taken first place in a hot-dog eating contest back in Seattle, devouring eight disgusting school dogs in one lunch period. He was older now, and this was actually good food. He could win this.

“Finding that much helium may pose a problem.” Max leaned over the diagram, looking from the picture to the flyer. “Otherwise, I think this is an excellent plan. It may interest you to know that the first space shuttle, named
Enterprise
after the ship from
Star Trek
, did not first take off under its own power. It was taken up on top of a 747 and launched in atmospheric flight tests from there.”

“Wow, more lame
Star Trek
stuff,” said Alex. He chugged down the rest of his soda and tapped Brian's drawing. “Dude, this is really cool, but if this is the plan, flying under a giant pig, we better finish putting the engine back together.”

The week dragged on. Every day one of them read an article or watched a video online about eating contests. How much to eat. How much to drink. By Saturday, Brian felt as though he knew everything about how to eat a lot of food as quickly as possible.

That evening, Alex and Brian left Max in the Eagle's Nest and went down to Piggly's for the Pig-Out Contest. Brian breathed deeply, taking in the amazing smells of the place. He leaned toward Alex. “I'm ready to win.”

Alex spoke quietly. “Win or lose, so many people are betting on this contest that I'm still going to make a ton of money.”

“Good evening, boys!” Mr. Pineeda greeted them. “Young Mr. Mackenzie, and … Mr. Roberts, right?”

“Right,” Brian answered.

“Ha! I knew it! I knew it! Just you two tonight? Coming for a taste of the truly extraordinary for dinner, or for the frozen dee-light, the treat that that can't be beat, Piggly's ice cream?”

Brian looked over to the tables in the dining area. A whole section of the room had been roped off, with a big pink sign advertising the Pig-Out Contest standing nearby. A couple of high school guys were already sitting at one of the tables, talking, laughing, and drinking sodas. Could he really out-eat high schoolers like that?

Alex elbowed him. Brian nodded and took his hands out of his pockets, his shoulders squared back. “I'm here to win the Pig-Out Contest,” he said. “I want Mr. Piggly.”

“That's the spirit!” Mr. Pineeda clapped his hands. “We need more big eaters like you in this town.” He put his hand behind Brian's back and led him to the dining area. Alex followed. Mr. Pineeda unhooked the thick rope and motioned them through with his other hand. “Right this way, gentlemen. Take any seat you like. The contest begins in about twenty minutes. Miss Kendra Hanson will be around in a bit to take your drink orders.”

Brian and Alex took the table farthest from the high school guys. One of them gave a nod, but the rest just ignored them.

“Remember what Max said about the stuff he looked up online,” Alex said quietly. “Water only. No soda. The carbonation will only make you feel more full. You need to chew quickly, but really chew.”

“I know,” Brian said. “Chew the food up a lot so it's all compacted into a paste in my mouth before swallowing. That way it will take up less stomach space.”

“A Big Porker is over a pound of food,” Alex said. “The winner may be whoever can finish first, but the guys who stuff the food as fast as they can are going to feel too full to keep going.”

Kendra the waitress approached the table. She put her hand on her hip and glanced back at the high school guys. “Want drinks?”

Alex's eyes traced her from her shoes all the way to the pig snout on her nose and the pink bow in her hair. He smiled at Kendra. “What happened to the nice greeting I've come to expect here at —”

“You want a soda or not?” She still didn't look at them. One of the high school guys had noticed her and made a snorting sound like a pig, then they all laughed and acted like they hadn't done anything. Her cheeks reddened.

“Don't pay attention to those guys,” Alex said.

She glared at him. “Last chance. What do you want to drink?”

“Mountain Dew,” said Alex. “Brian will just have water.”

“Fine.” She spun away so fast that her sandy brown hair flew back.

“And no Pig-Out Contest for me. I'll just have the Piglet Dinner.”

She stopped and faced him. “Anything else?”

Alex shook his head. When she started toward the kitchen again, he elbowed Brian. “Check this out,” he whispered. “Oh, and Kendra?” he said in a normal voice.

“What?” Kendra said impatiently.

“You have to be the only girl in the universe who can look pretty while being forced to wear that stupid pig nose.”

She rolled her eyes. “Children,” she said. But before she went away, Brian could see the hint of a smile on her face. Did Alex's line actually work? On a high school girl?

“Did you see that?” Alex said. “She totally likes me.”

Maybe she did and maybe she didn't, but Brian never would have had the guts to do that. “Isn't she a little old for you?”

Alex shrugged. “She'll be a senior when we're freshmen. It could work. The secret to girls is confidence. That may be the secret to eating contests too.”

Brian nodded. Why couldn't he have Alex's confidence? Why couldn't he always know the right thing to do? Instead, he always felt like he was making it up as he went along.

More people were coming in now. The tables in the contest section filled up mostly with kids, but there was also one guy who looked to be in his thirties. David and Red from their class sat down at their table, and so did Big Aaron Pineeda. “Dad said I could be in the contest, but if I win, the balloon will go to the second-place guy,” said B.A. “He wants to get rid of it. It's getting old. A few weeks ago, one of the little metal rings that connects to the tie-down ropes actually broke. Mr. Piggly almost rolled right off the roof.”

Brian thought it was good that B.A. couldn't win the balloon. Judging from his size, he would be tough to beat.

Jason Cooper showed up next. “I took money out of my car fund for this. If I win the pig balloon, I'm going to sell it on eBay. Probably enough to buy a whole set of tires, depending on what kind of car I get.”

“Yeah, right, Cooper!” Frankie stepped over the rope into the contest area. “You'll be riding your sister's bike until you're twenty-five, because I'm going to win this contest tonight!”

Great
, Brian thought. Just when he had a chance to hang out and have fun, here came the meanest tough guy in America to mess it all up.

Frankie caught sight of him. “Ah, the new boy is here. Good. I can beat him in something else.”

Mr. Pineeda joined them. Kendra was right behind him, along with a man wearing a stained apron. They all carried big plastic trays filled with Big Porker Specials. “Okay, gentlemen, here's how the Pig-Out Contest works,” Mr. Pineeda said. “Nobody can touch his plate until I say ‘Go.' After that, the rules are simple. The first contestant to eat the entire one-pound dee-licious Big Porker sandwich” — Red raised his hand. Mr. Pineeda pointed at him — “bun included” — Red put his hand back down — “and finish all of his Pig Tails, will be the next proud owner of Mr. Piggly. He's twenty-five feet from snout to tail. Twenty feet across his midsection. Good for a parade or something, eh, boys?” Mr. Pineeda laughed.

Kendra and the cook began placing a plate in front of each contestant. She also put a plate with a much smaller sandwich in front of Alex. He might have said something flirty to her again, but Brian wasn't paying attention. He saw only the platter in front of him. The Big Porker looked as big around as a basketball and at least five inches high from bun to bun. Just the pile of shredded meat inside was probably as big as Alex's entire little Piglet. Could he even pick the sandwich up? How could he take a bite? The mountain of golden, steaming Pig Tails stood almost as high as the sandwich itself. How would he ever finish all of that?

“All right, boys. The plates are in position.” Mr. Pineeda looked up and down the tables, checking for cheaters. “Nobody touch their food.” Red held his hands inches above his sandwich. Frankie cracked his knuckles. Mr. Pineeda moved to the middle of the group of contest tables. He raised his hand up above his head. “Ready. Set. Go!”

He dropped his arm, and the contest was on. Brian tried to get his hands around the Big Porker and pick it up, but he kept getting SSSBS on them.

“Dude, there's no way you're going to be able to eat that thing and stay clean. Can't be done,” Alex said. “Just go for it. Remember” — he lowered his voice to a whisper — “we
need
this.”

Brian finally got ahold of the sandwich and took a big bite. He closed his eyes as he chewed. Mr. Pineeda was right. Piggly's served the best barbecue pork in the world. He added a bit of salt to the Pig Tails and crammed a curl in his mouth. After every bite he remembered Max's advice to chew a lot.

Across the table, Red's face was almost as red as his hair. He had barbecue sauce all over his mouth and cheeks. He'd taken off the bun and was forking huge clumps of meat into his mouth. “Itsh goo,” he said, his mouth completely stuffed with pork.

“You still have to eat that bun,” Alex said.

When Red could finally swallow, he spoke loudly with sauce still on his face. “I saw this video about a guy in Japan who wins hot-dog eating contests by dipping the bun in water. I figure Mountain Dew should do it too.”

Brian kept eating, focusing on fries, while Red picked up the top bun, rolled and squished it into a sort of cigar shape, and then dipped it halfway down into his soda. Brian shook his head. Red slipped the soggy bun into his mouth and sort of slurped off the wet end, swallowing a second later.

“Easy,” Red said. “Tastes pretty good too.”