“The point is for it to fly.”
“But—”
“You don’t need to understand,” said Leonard. “Maggie will.”
He bent over the little aircraft, its multicolored wings and silken parasol as bright as a toy carousel, and tenderly began to fit the doll-size pilot into its seat.
Robbie shivered. He’d seen Leonard’s handiwork before, mannequins so realistic that tourists constantly poked them to see if they were alive.
But those were life-size, and they weren’t designed to resemble someone he knew. The sight of Leonard holding a tiny Maggie Blevin tenderly, as though she were a captive bird, made Robbie feel light-headed and slightly sick. He turned toward the tent opening. “I’ll see if I can help Emery set up.”
Leonard’s gaze remained fixed on the tiny figure. “I’ll be right there,” he said at last.
At the foot of the dune, the boys were trying to talk Emery into letting them use the camera.
“No way.” He waved as Robbie scrambled down. “See, I’m not even letting your dad do it.”
“That’s because Dad would suck,” Zach said as Emery grabbed Robbie and steered him toward the water. “Come on, just for a minute.”
“Trouble with the crew?” asked Robbie.
“Nah. They’re just getting bored.”
“Did you see that doll?”
“The Incredible Shrinking Maggie?” Emery stopped to stare at the dune. “The thing about Leonard is, I can never figure out if he’s brilliant or potentially dangerous. The fact that he’ll be able to retire with a full government pension suggests he’s normal. The Maggie voodoo doll, though…”
He shook his head and began to pace again. Robbie walked beside him, kicking at wet sand and staring curiously at the sky. The air smelled odd, of ozone or hot metal. But it felt too chilly for a thunderstorm, and the dark ridge that hung above the palmettos and live oaks looked more like encroaching fog than cumulus clouds.
“Well, at least the wind’s from the right direction,” said Robbie.
Emery nodded. “Yeah. I was starting to think we’d have to throw it from the roof.”
A few minutes later, Leonard’s voice rang out above the wind. “Okay, everyone over here.”
They gathered at the base of the dune and stared up at him, his tunic an azure rent in the ominous sky. Between Leonard’s feet was a cardboard box. He glanced at it and went on.
“I’m going to wait till the wind seems right, and then I’ll yell, ‘Now!’ Emery, you’ll just have to watch me and see where she goes, then do your best. Zach and Tyler—you guys fan out and be ready to catch her if she starts to fall. Catch her gently,” he added.
“What about me?” called Robbie.
“You stay with Emery in case he needs backup.”
“Backup?” Robbie frowned.
“You know,” said Emery in a low voice. “In case I need help getting Leonard back to the rubber room.”
The boys began to walk toward the water. Tyler had his cell phone out. He looked at Zach, who dug his phone from his pocket.
“Are they texting each other?” asked Emery in disbelief. “They’re ten feet apart.”
“Ready?” Leonard shouted.
“Ready,” the boys yelled back.
Robbie turned to Emery. “What about you, Captain Marvo?”
Emery grinned and held up the camera. “I have never been readier.”
Atop the dune, Leonard stooped to retrieve the Bellerophon from its box. As he straightened, its propellers began turning madly. Candy-striped rotators spun like pinwheels as he cradled it against his chest, his long white braids threatening to tangle with the parasol.
The wind gusted suddenly: Robbie’s throat tightened as he watched the tiny black figure beneath the fuselage swing wildly back and forth, like an accelerated pendulum. Leonard slipped in the sand and fought to regain his balance.
“Uh-oh,” said Emery.
The wind died, and Leonard righted himself. Even from the beach, Robbie could see how his face had gone white.
“Are you okay?” yelled Zach.
“I’m okay,” Leonard yelled back.
He gave them a shaky smile, then stared intently at the horizon. After a minute his head tilted, as though listening to something. Abruptly he straightened and raised the Bellerophon in both hands. Behind him, palmettos thrashed as the wind gusted.
“Now!” he shouted.
Leonard opened his hands. As though it were a butterfly, the Bellerophon lifted into the air. Its feathery parasol billowed. Fan-shaped wings rose and fell; ailerons flapped and gears whirled like pinwheels. There was a sound like a train rushing through a tunnel, and Robbie stared open-mouthed as the Bellerophon skimmed the air above his head, its pilot pedaling furiously as it headed toward the sea.
Robbie gasped. The boys raced after it, yelling. Emery followed, camera clamped to his face and Robbie at his heels.
“This is f**king incredible!” Emery shouted. “Look at that thing go!”
They drew up a few yards from the water. The Bellerophon whirred past, barely an arm’s length above them. Robbie’s eyes blurred as he stared after that brilliant whirl of color and motion, a child’s dream of flight soaring just out of reach. Emery waded into the shallows with his camera. The boys followed, splashing and waving at the little plane. From the dune behind them echoed Leonard’s voice.
“Godspeed.”
Robbie gazed silently at the horizon as the Bellerophon continued on, its pilot silhouetted black against the sky, wings opened like sails. Its sound grew fainter, a soft whirring that might have been a flock of birds. Soon it would be gone. Robbie stepped to the water’s edge and craned his neck to keep it in sight.
Without warning a green flare erupted from the waves and streamed toward the little aircraft. Like a meteor shooting upward, emerald blossomed into a blinding radiance that engulfed the Bellerophon. For an instant Robbie saw the flying machine, a golden wheel spinning within a comet’s heart.
Then the blazing light was gone, and with it the Bellerophon.
Robbie gazed, stunned, at the empty air. After an endless moment he became aware of something—someone—near him. He turned to see Emery stagger from the water, soaking wet, the camera held uselessly at his side.
“I dropped it,” he gasped. “When that—whatever the f**k it was, when it came, I dropped the camera.”
Robbie helped him onto the sand.