Fly to the Rescue Read online

Sir Isaac poked his head out from the toilet-paper curtains. “Pilot of what?” he asked rudely. “No one in their right mind would let a woman set foot on a ship.”

  Miss Earhart pulled off her goggles and narrowed her eyes. “It’s small-minded thinking like that that got us into this fix, where men want to do everything themselves and never give a girl a chance,” she said, waggling her finger. “You ought to know that a woman can do anything a man can do—even fly an airplane.”

  “Fly?” Sir Isaac asked. “Like a bird? Preposterous!”

  “It is not!” Miss Earhart countered, pulling herself up to her full height. “I’ll have you know that I was the very first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic and the first person to fly solo across the Pacific Ocean.”

  “A mortal—man or woman—flying through the air,” Sir Isaac said, laughing like he’d heard a great joke. “The very idea! Dear lady, I realize that you may be given to flights of fancy, but there is a force, you see, that draws objects down to the surface of the earth. I have decided to call it ‘gravity,’ after the Latin word gravitas, meaning ‘weight’—”

  “I know all about gravity,” Miss Earhart said.

  Now Sir Isaac looked even more astonished. “You know about gravity?” he asked. “That’s even more absurd than the thought that you have flown through the air in some sort of nature-defying contraption!”

  Miss Earhart turned to Julia. “Can you believe him?” she asked. “Don’t listen to a word he says. There’s plenty of unenlightened men out there who’d rather stand in our way than get out of it. But we won’t allow them to hold us back, will we?”

  “Unenlightened?” Sir Isaac sputtered as his face turned bright red. “You cause me offense! I have dedicated my life to the pursuit of knowledge!”

  As the two tiny geniuses launched into a full-fledged argument, Jake buried his head in his hands. “This is a disaster!” He groaned.

  “Maybe they would get along better if they had a big project to work on together,” Julia suggested.

  “Yeah—like my science project,” Jake muttered. “But Sir Isaac’s not interested in helping me, and he and Miss Earhart won’t stop arguing long enough for me to even ask her if she’d take a look!”

  Jake gestured at the two geniuses, who were shouting in each other’s faces.

  “And if such a thing as human flight were possible, it would be someone like me who would accomplish it!” Sir Isaac hollered.

  “I’d like to see you try!” Miss Earhart yelled back.

  A strange, wistful look suddenly crossed Sir Isaac’s face. “Yes,” he said in a quiet voice. “I think I should like that as well.”

  Sir Isaac wishes he could fly! Jake realized all of a sudden. Miss Earhart must have realized it, too, because the scowl on her face softened.

  “Why didn’t you say so?” she asked. “I’m certain that can be arranged.”

  Sir Isaac looked skeptical, but there was a new spark of hope in his eyes. “How?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

  “First we’ll find the Canary,” Miss Earhart began, ticking the steps off on her fingers. “After a landing like that, I’m sure the old girl will need some fixing, but that’s nothing I haven’t managed before. Then it’s off we go—next stop, the wild blue yonder!”

  That was all it took for Jake to have the best, brightest, most brilliant idea of his entire life. An airplane, he thought as a tornado of ideas whirled through his mind. A real-life miniature airplane can be my science project!

  “Hang on a second,” he said in a rush. “If you can’t find the Canary, do you think you could make a new plane?”

  Miss Earhart tapped her chin thoughtfully. “With the right tools, just about anything is possible. Yes, young man, if you have the supplies, we can build it.”

  “Yes!” Jake cheered, so loudly that Sir Isaac, Miss Earhart, and even Julia jumped.

  At last, Jake had solved the problem that had been worrying him for days!

  “Jake!”

  Jake bolted upright at once. “What?” he asked sleepily. He tried to jump out of bed, but the blankets were all tangled around his legs. He landed on the floor with a loud thunk.

  “Get down here right now!”

  “Coming!” Jake yelled back.

  What did I do? Jake wondered as he stumbled toward the door. It was first thing in the morning. He hadn’t even had time to get into trouble yet!

  When Jake reached the living room, though, it only took one look to know exactly why Dad was so mad. The floor was covered with a massive mess of broken glass, tangled wires, and itty-bitty LED lights.

  “Whoa,” Jake whispered. “What happened?”

  “That’s what we want to know, young man,” Mom said, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “What happened to the TV?”

  Jake’s heart pulsed with pure panic. He could make a pretty good guess about who, exactly, was responsible for this disaster—and why they had done it. But how could he tell Mom and Dad about Sir Isaac and Miss Earhart?

  Jake swallowed hard. There was only one thing to do.

  “Sorry,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “I didn’t mean to destroy everything.”

  “What could have possibly possessed you to take apart the TV?” Mom asked. She spoke very slowly, as if she were trying to control her temper.

  “I was … um … working on my science project?” Jake guessed. “I needed some supplies … like electronics stuff … and it was the middle of the night …”

  He glanced hopefully from Mom to Dad. Would he be in less trouble if they knew it was for his science project? There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that Sir Isaac and Miss Earhart were behind this mess—especially when Jake noticed Miss Earhart’s scarf, no bigger than a Band-Aid, draped across the busted remote control.

  “You came downstairs in the middle of the night to dismantle the television?” Dad asked. “Jake, what were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said miserably. “I just—I really want to do well on my science project. I didn’t think I could wait until today to get the stuff I needed.”

  Mom and Dad exchanged a troubled glance.

  “We’re really glad that you’re so determined to succeed on your science project,” Mom finally said. “But, Jake, you have to know this isn’t okay.”

  Jake exhaled in relief.

  “You’ll have to be punished,” Dad said. “Even though it was for your schoolwork, you know better than to destroy things.”

  “Are you going to take away baseball?” Jake asked urgently. “I’ll pay for a new TV. I’ll walk dogs and wash cars and—and anything I can do to earn some money.”

  “It looks like you already managed to take away TV,” Dad said, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “So we’ll have to think of something else.”

  Jake almost cracked a smile—almost.

  “We’re not sure what your punishment will be yet,” Mom said. “But probably not baseball. The deal was that you could keep playing baseball as long as you did well on your science project. And it seems like you’re trying very hard to uphold your end of the bargain.”

  “But no more of this nonsense, okay?” Dad said as he stooped down to pick up the broken glass. “We expect you to be on your best behavior—even if you are channeling your inner mad scientist these days.”

  “You got it,” Jake promised. “No more non-sense.”

  Suddenly, Dad noticed Miss Earhart’s scarf. A look of confusion crossed his face. “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Doll clothes,” Jake blurted out. “It belongs to Julia. I’ll take it upstairs.”

  “Hurry up and get ready for school,” Mom called after him as Jake escaped from the living room. “We’re already behind schedule.”

  In his room, Jake breathed a sigh of relief. That was a close call. He glanced around his room, but Sir Isaac and Miss Earhart were nowhere to be seen: not on his desk, not in Julia’s dollhouse, and not even
messing around with the lights. In fact, the room seemed completely empty—except for Jake himself.

  “Miss Earhart? Sir Isaac?” Jake called, as loudly as he dared. “Where are you guys?”

  But there was no response.

  Now Jake was really starting to panic. What if Sir Isaac and Miss Earhart were lost in the house? What if Mom found them? Or worst of all—Flapjack?

  “Sir Isaac!” Jake called one more time. “Miss Earhart!”

  Suddenly, Jake heard a rustling noise. He dropped to his knees and peered under the bed—and could hardly believe his eyes. Somehow, overnight, Sir Isaac and Miss Earhart had set up an entire workshop—and Jake had slept through the whole thing! There were work stations made from playing cards; stools made from spools of thread; itty-bitty screws and tools that must’ve come from Dad’s eyeglass repair kit; and a random pile of other household objects: buttons and game pieces and thumbtacks and tokens and a mountain of cotton swabs. There was even, Jake realized with a sinking feeling, a blowtorch made from a birthday candle.

  “What—what—how—?” Jake sputtered.

  At the sound of his voice, Miss Earhart looked up. “Morning!” she said in a chipper voice.

  “I have to talk to you both,” Jake said.

  As soon as Miss Earhart and Sir Isaac were back on his desk, Jake launched into his lecture.

  “What were you thinking?” he began, surprised at how much he suddenly sounded like his parents. “What you did last night was incredibly dangerous!”

  “Nonsense,” Sir Isaac scoffed as he examined a copper wire twined through a button. “We took all the necessary precautions.”

  “Before or after you pulled the TV off the wall?” Jake asked.

  “Well, now, let me be the first to apologize for that,” Miss Earhart spoke up. “We were just hoping to—”

  “Wait,” Jake interrupted her, squinting his eyes as he peeked under the bed again. “Are those burned-out birthday candles? No, never mind, don’t tell me. I don’t even want to know. But please promise me you won’t light anything else on fire. Please?”

  “That was her fault!” Sir Isaac crowed, pointing his finger at Miss Earhart. “I told her that you sleep quite well—quite loudly, I might add—with the entire room illuminated!”

  “I was trying to keep the room dark enough for Jake to get some rest,” Miss Earhart protested. “I used to be a nurse’s aide, you know. I know what I’m talking about. Children need a good night’s sleep to succeed!”

  Jake, however, wasn’t listening. What am I going to do? he wondered. Sir Isaac and Miss Earhart were completely out of control. How could Jake possibly leave them at home after all the mischief they’d gotten into?

  Jake knew what he had to do. He didn’t want to—but he didn’t really have a choice.

  “Get your coats,” he told the geniuses. “You’re going to school.”

  Jake had never loved his backpack more than he did that morning. It had not one, not two, but three secret pockets inside. There was more than enough room for Miss Earhart and Sir Isaac to spread out, get comfortable, and relax until the school day ended. To be on the safe side, Jake decided to travel light, leaving his lunch and school books at home. Hot lunch was gross, but it was worth eating it if he didn’t have to worry about his tiny geniuses being crushed by a cookie or smushed under a sandwich.

  About a block away from Franklin Elementary School, Jake peeked into his backpack to check on them. He grinned when he saw each one hard at work building a miniscule component of the plane’s engine. Hopefully, their tasks would keep them busy—and out of trouble—for the rest of the day.

  “Now, listen,” Jake said for the umpteenth time, “you guys have got to stay in my backpack until we get home. All day. No exceptions. If anybody sees you—”

  “I assure you, boy, I have no interest in wasting my day at your school,” Sir Isaac interrupted, not even bothering to look up from the electrode in his hands. “My own school days were tedious enough.”

  “We’re here to help you, Jake, not make more problems!” Miss Earhart said brightly. Jake tried to return her smile. We just have to get through the science fair on Friday, Jake reminded himself. One more day.

  “Okay,” Jake said in a low voice. “Let’s go.”

  When Jake arrived in Ms. Turner’s classroom, the clock read 8:29:54:12. He was less than six seconds away from getting a tardy! Jake slid into his seat right before the bell rang.

  “Safe!” Ms. Turner joked, spreading her arms like an umpire. The whole class laughed, and even Jake smiled as he carefully tucked his backpack under the desk.

  “Books closed. Papers out. Pencils up,” Ms. Turner announced.

  Jake’s smile disappeared. Those were the worst six words to hear first thing in the morning. They meant Ms. Turner was going to give a pop quiz.

  “Since the science fair is tomorrow, we’re going to review the key terms for your projects,” the teacher continued. “If the judges ask you to explain a term, you’ll need to be ready. When I say each word, please write down the definition.”

  Jake’s face scrunched into a worried frown. He’d been totally stumped when he saw the science-fair words on the instructions. All those times he’d waved the instructions at Sir Isaac instead of reading them—

  Jake closed his eyes. He could picture the instructions in Sir Isaac and Miss Earhart’s workshop under his bed. If only he could remember what they said!

  “‘Hypothesis,’” Ms. Turner announced.

  Jake tried to think. Was it H-I-P or H-Y-P? He glanced at the red numbers on the clock, a blur as the milliseconds slipped away …

  “‘Hypothesis,’” repeated Ms. Turner.

  Hipothesis, Jake scribbled. Then he frowned. It didn’t look right. Without even bothering to erase, he quickly changed the first “I” to a “Y.” But spelling “hypothesis” wasn’t even the hardest part. Now he had to define it.

  Jake gnawed on the end of his pencil. A hypothesis is a kind of guess, he wrote. A guess that scientists make about something they think will happen.

  Jake stared at his answer, trying to think of something else to write. He heard everybody else’s pencils scratching, scratching …

  And then he heard something else.

  Z-z-z-z-z-z—zip.

  Jake froze.

  That sound—it was coming from under his desk.

  It was coming from his backpack!

  No, Jake thought desperately. No, no, no, no!

  There was only one possible explanation for why his backpack would unzip itself.

  Sir Isaac and Miss Earhart were trying to escape!

  What am I going to do? Jake wondered, trying not to panic.

  But the whole class was in the middle of taking a quiz. He couldn’t exactly start talking to his backpack without attracting attention.

  “The next word is ‘procedure,’” Ms. Turner announced.

  Jake’s fidgety hand jerked forward. It bumped his pencil and sent it clattering to the floor—right under his desk. Luckily, Ms. Turner noticed. She nodded at Jake so that he knew he had permission to get it.

  Jake dove under his desk. His backpack was already unzipped two inches! He stuck his face near the opening and hissed, “What are you doing?”

  “We need air,” Sir Isaac said with a scowl. “It is oppressively hot in here. And this satchel of yours carries the distinct odor of—”

  “Feet.” Miss Earhart spoke up.

  “Just deal with it,” Jake said through gritted teeth. “Stay put—and no more unzipping.”

  With a fast tug on the zipper, Jake returned to his seat. He started scribbling pro—

  Zzzzzzzzzzip!

  Not again, Jake thought. With his foot, he tried to move his backpack under the chair.

  Across the aisle, Aiden glanced at Jake and frowned. Jake stared hard at his paper. He wasn’t even finished writing “procedure” when Ms. Turner announced the next word. “‘Investigation.’”

  Jake knew
that he had no choice but to move on. He shifted his feet to push the backpack again. The buckles on the straps clacked against the tile floor.

  “Ms. Turner!” Aiden’s hand shot into the air.

  Everyone turned to look at him. Jake slouched low in his seat, wishing he could use mind control to keep Sir Isaac and Miss Earhart in his backpack.

  “Yes, Aiden?” Ms. Turner asked. “Is there a problem?”

  “Jake’s fidgeting and it’s really distracting,” Aiden replied.

  “I am not!” Jake protested.

  A pinched look crossed Ms. Turner’s face. “Aiden, keep your eyes on your own paper and you won’t notice any distractions,” she replied. “Now, back to the quiz. The next word is ‘process.’”

  Luckily, there were only two more words after “process.” At last, Ms. Turner announced, “Please pass your papers forward.”

  Jake passed his quiz to the person who sat in front of him. Another F, he was sure … and Jake had a terrible feeling that his day was only going to get worse.

  “Next, we’ll watch a video from last year’s science fair so that you’ll know what to expect,” Ms. Turner told the class.

  Jake breathed a sigh of relief as Ms. Turner turned out the lights and started a video on the SMART Board. Then Jake felt something tug on a leg of his jeans.

  With a sinking feeling, Jake looked down. Sir Isaac had poked his head out of the backpack—and was trying to get Jake’s attention!

  Jake shook his head. But Sir Isaac wouldn’t take no for an answer. Even worse, Miss Earhart was peeking out of the bag, too!

  With one swift motion, Jake leaned over, scooped both geniuses into his hand, and hid them in his desk.

  “Please,” he whispered. “You have to stop!”

  But Sir Isaac wasn’t listening, as usual. His eyes were wide with wonder as he peered around Jake, eager to see everything in the classroom. “This is your schoolroom?” He asked.

  “Isaac,” Miss Earhart said in a hushed voice, “I think you’d better—”

  “What is that?” Sir Isaac exclaimed.

  Jake glanced over his shoulder to see what Sir Isaac was pointing at. “The model of the solar system?” he guessed. He wasn’t surprised that it had caught Sir Isaac’s eye. The vibrant planets traveled on motorized tracks around a glittering golden sun.