The Amazing Flight of Darius Frobisher Page 12

  Daedalus swerved to avoid the door and guided the bicycle up onto the sidewalk. He hopped off the bike and turned to Miss Hastings.

  “Are you all right, Gracie?” he asked.

  “My goodness, yes,” she answered. “How exciting!”

  “Gimme a bike, you old geezer,” growled Anthony.

  “I wouldn’t give anything to anyone as rude as you,” replied Daedalus.

  “Then I’ll just take one,” Anthony shot back. He turned and ran through the yard, looking for a bike. “This is all junk!” he bellowed, rummaging through the dismantled bicycles. “Trash! Worthless!”

  “You are as blind as a bat,” said Daedalus. “These things are priceless.”

  “Don’t say my son is blind! He can see perfectly well,” Mrs. Gritbun squawked.

  Aunt Inga was peering at Miss Hastings as she took off her helmet. “Haven’t I met you somewhere before?” she asked.

  “Yes, I am Miss Hastings. Darius’s housekeeper.”

  “I knew it! I should have known you were behind all this!” Aunt Inga breathed heavily.

  “I am behind nothing. It’s about time that you realized—”

  A loud whoop stopped her in midsentence.

  “Finally!” Anthony roared. “Here’s a bike I can use! It’s pretty weird looking, but it’ll do.” He wheeled out Daedalus’s flying bicycle, loaded down with fins and extra equipment.

  “No!” pleaded Daedalus, running toward Anthony. “Not that one! It’s not safe! You mustn’t ride it!”

  “Back off, you old fart. You just don’t want me to catch the little creep!”

  “Of course I don’t. But this bike’s not safe. And you don’t have a helmet. I must ask that you not ride that bike. It’s for your own good.”

  “Buzz off, old man,” said Anthony as he turned the bike in Darius’s direction and climbed on. “I’m outta here!”

  “Please, no!” Daedalus ran toward Anthony, desperate to stop him.

  Anthony gave Daedalus a shove and sent him sprawling back into a pile of training wheels.

  Daedalus struggled to disentangle himself from the little wheels and frames. “Whatever you do, don’t push it into the last gear,” he shouted frantically, trying to get to his feet. “Don’t use the seventh gear! You’re not ready for it! Listen to me!”

  “Forget you,” said Anthony. He rode off, dodging a heap of handlebars, and followed Darius into the alley.

  Everyone watched the boy pedal off, chasing Darius.

  “If he uses the seventh gear,” said Daedalus, “we may never see him again.”

  “Why?” asked Miss Hastings. “What will happen?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Daedalus. “He’ll go careening off to some other part of the universe, I think.”

  “Stop him! Please stop him,” pleaded Gertrude Gritbun.

  But no one had ever learned how to stop Anthony. Not even Colonel Crimper.

  Darius, heart pounding, stood on the pedals and pumped so hard his legs ached. He veered around the next corner and narrowly missed colliding with a delivery truck. He glanced behind him. Anthony, bigger and stronger and riding Daedalus’s much more powerful bicycle, was gaining on him fast. The boy was now so close that Darius could hear him panting. Anthony drew closer and closer as the two bikes screamed down the street.

  Darius didn’t know how much longer he could keep up this pace. The pain in his legs was almost unbearable, and the wheels on his bike were beginning to wobble a little from the speed. He looked down at the shifter. He was in fifth gear. Darius read the sign again. The warning was clear.

  Darius couldn’t think of a bigger emergency than this. If Anthony caught him, he would be sent away to Crapper Academy where he’d have to live with that bully for twenty-four hours a day, along with five hundred other boys who were probably just like him. He would lose Daedalus—and Miss Hastings, after he had just found her again. A wicked laugh interrupted his thoughts.

  “I’ve got you, you worm!” Anthony called out.

  I know what you are wishing.

  For once, your wish has been granted.

  Darius couldn’t imagine the bike going any faster, but he figured it was his only hope. “Here we go!” he screamed, and he flicked the gear shifter into sixth gear.

  As soon as the sixth gear locked into place, the most amazing thing happened. The pedals seemed to give way under his feet, as if the chain had fallen off the teeth of the sprocket. He could no longer hear the solid hum of the wheels on the pavement, only a high-pitched whir.

  “Oh no!” Darius cried. “Oh no!” He was sure his bike was broken. He looked back at the rear wheel and saw that the chain was still on the sprocket. He kept pedaling, faster and faster. The next time he looked back, he felt a cold thrill and his heart almost stopped. The wheels were no longer on the road. They were spinning freely two feet above the pavement. By the time Darius turned his head back to the front, he was climbing over a car stopped at an intersection. He was flying!

  Twenty feet in the air!

  He gained in altitude, rising to the tops of the trees and over them. The street below him got smaller and smaller.

  “Yeehah!” Darius screamed. “YEEHAH! YEEHAHAH!” He tilted the handlebars to the right, and the bike made a wide banking turn, so he was leaning over, looking down at the entire town.

  When Darius took off into the air, Anthony cursed and yelled. Without a thought, he shoved the gear shifter up to the sixth notch. Anthony’s stomach lurched as his bike left the ground and soared over the rooftops. “Aieeeee!” he shrieked, holding onto the handlebars for dear life. His legs trembled in fear and he stopped pedaling. As soon as he did, the bike started to descend, heading toward a tree.

  “Help!” Anthony screamed. Someone help me! He started to pedal again, more frantically than before. The bike angled upward, lifing just in time to brush the top leaves of the tree. A flock of blackbirds rose out of the branches like a dark cloud and surrounded him, whistling and shrieking.

  “Aughh!” he said. “Get out of here, you creepy birds!” The blackbirds veered away from him and Anthony kept pedaling, heading up into the blue.

  “Whoa, baby!” he shouted. “I’m flying!!”

  Darius looped around and passed Anthony going the other way.

  Anthony made a wide turn and followed him. “Look out, here I come!” he called out. “I’m catching you and I’m not even in seventh gear yet. Faster and higher than you!” He caught up with Darius and soared past him. Anthony seemed to have forgotten about catching Darius—now he was just showing off.

  Darius coasted along, not at all interested in a race with Anthony. Here in the sky, it was strangely quiet; there was only the whir and click of the bicycle wheels. The sun shone between large puffy clouds, and for a brief moment, Darius forgot about everything else.

  “I’ve never seen the sky so blue,” he said out loud.

  He looked down directly beneath him. Daedalus’s yard, filled with bicycles, was a wonderful jumble of color and design, shining in the sun. It was like his father’s maps, but more vibrant, more alive. It was real.

  No wonder my father loved flying so much! he thought. Quite clearly, in his mind’s eye, he could see his father smiling at him. And then he saw a jumble of images—Darius couldn’t tell whether they were in his mind or up ahead through the clouds. First, he saw an enormous balloon, drifting through the air over a great blue ocean, with gigantic crests of waves rising and falling, stretching away to the far horizon.

  Then, just as clearly, he saw and felt his father holding the bicycle for him on the street where he had grown up. His father’s hand was on his shoulder, and Darius heard the ching ching ching of the change in his father’s pocket as he ran along beside the bike. The next instant he felt himself riding down the street alone and free. The bike wobbled as he turned back, and he saw his father standing there in the middle of the street, his arms outstretched. “Come home, flyboy!” his father called. “Come back, all on your o
wn!”

  Then the sun came out from behind a cloud and shone down on Darius’s face. The image he had just seen disappeared.

  “Come back!” A familiar voice drifted up to him from way below. Darius looked down and once again he saw Daedalus’s house. In the front yard, gathered around Colonel Crimper’s car and the tumble of bikes, stood the tiny figures of Daedalus, Miss Hastings, Aunt Inga, Mrs. Gritbun, and the colonel, all looking up into the sky, shielding their eyes from the bright sun. Darius shook his head in disbelief. He must have been imagining the ocean and his father’s balloon. It had seemed so real, but now here he was, on the shiny red bicycle, back over the bike shop again.

  Something in Darius still wanted to go on, go faster.

  To fly away.

  Chasing his father.

  Off into the sky.

  Forever.

  Like Icarus, who flew higher than anyone else had flown.

  “Come back, Darius,” Daedalus called again, waving and flapping his arms. “Come back! We love you!”

  “We love you, Darius!” Miss Hastings cried.

  When Darius heard those words, his heart lifted up in his chest. He remembered the silver wings on the chain Miss Hastings had given him. She’d been right. He could fly.

  He stopped pedaling for a moment, coasting in midair. He looked down at the group of people beneath him.

  And then Darius realized something.

  Flying was exciting and beautiful. It was exactly what he had dreamed of. If he chose to, he could soar away and never have to worry about Aunt Inga or Crapper Academy ever again. But now that he was flying free, Darius realized that he didn’t want to go higher or faster. He wanted to be with Daedalus and Miss Hastings. That was what he had wanted all along.

  In that moment, Darius wasn’t afraid of Aunt Inga or Colonel Crimper anymore.

  Miss Hastings and Daedalus were calling to him, and he would fly to them.

  Darius slowed his pedaling. The bike began to descend toward earth slowly, like a balloon leaking air.

  Suddenly Anthony was beside him.

  “Gotcha!” the older boy said. He turned his handlebars and bumped into Darius’s bike—both boys wobbled in the air.

  “Stop it, Anthony,” said Darius. “I’m going back down.”

  “No you’re not. This is way too much fun. Look at this!” Anthony turned the bike in a hard loop and circled around Darius. He rose in the air, then pulled the bike over in a series of somersaults, turning upside down in wild loops.

  “How do you like that!” he chortled. “And I haven’t even tried seventh gear yet. You won’t stand a chance of beating me then.”

  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

  Gertrude 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.

  To whom it may concern,

  In the event of my demise or disappearance, I would like my housekeeper, Miss Grace Hastings, to become the guardian of my son, Darius Frobisher. While Inga Burnslacker, his great-aunt, is his closest relative, I think it best for everyone if he stays with Miss Hastings. I know she loves him.

  Rudolph Frobisher

  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—”