فصل بیست و سوم

chapter-23

One second after Mad Dog brought the bookmobile to a tire-squealing stop, Kyle and Abia hopped out the sliding side door, grabbed their backpack, and dashed for the hangars where the private planes were parked.

“Whoa, hold up there, kids,” said a burly security guard, raising her hand and blocking the gate in a chain-link fence topped with coils of barbed wire. “This is a restricted area.” “Mr. Lemoncello sent us!” said Kyle breathlessly.

“We are Abia Sulayman and Kyle Keeley.”

The guard flipped through sheets of paper on her clipboard. “Sulayman, Sulayman, Sulay, Man…” “We’re kind of in a hurry,” said Kyle.

“Most folks at an airport are. Rush, rush, rush. No one wants to slow down and smell the exhaust fumes anymore.” The guard flicked back to the first page on her clipboard.

“Sulayman…”

Kyle heard tires squeal, a door slide open and then slam shut.

Katherine and Elliott’s bookmobile had just skidded to a stop behind Kyle and Abia’s.

“Run!” shouted their driver. It was Jessica, the driver Kyle and Abia had for the first leg of the race.

“Grab the backpack!” cried Elliott.

“You don’t have time!” said the driver. “Hurry! You’ll lose the jet!” Kyle’s heart raced faster than Mad Dog drove as Katherine and Elliott sprinted toward the gate.

“Ma’am?” he said to the security guard. “We really need to—” The phone clipped to the guard’s belt buzzed. “Here we are. The boss just texted over your names. Keeley and Sulayman, you are good to go.” She stepped away from the gate. “Have a nice flight.” “Run!” shouted Kyle.

“Fast!” Abia shouted back.

They only had a twenty-yard lead on the competition, who barely had to break stride when they reached the guard at the gate because now she had a list of approved names!

There were several aluminum-sided buildings at the far end of the airfield. None of them were marked with lemons, cellos, or Imagination Factory logos.

“Which hangar is Mr. Lemoncello’s?” Abia asked Kyle as they continued their sprint.

“Don’t know,” said Kyle between gasps for air. “But I bet it’s the biggest one.” “Let us play your hunch!”

Abia and Kyle darted on a diagonal. Now Katherine and Elliott were only fifteen yards behind them.

“They’re following us!” shouted Abia.

“Because they think we know where we’re going!” said Kyle.

He grabbed the door. Swung it open.

There were six planes parked inside the hangar. Three were corporate jets. Three were propeller planes. All were painted in shades of yellow. One of the jets was sculpted with a slight curve along its body so it resembled a banana with wings. There were also bananas decorating the wingtips.

“That’s his jet!” Kyle told Abia. They started running for it. “Mr. Lemoncello’s biggest hit last year was his burp-squeaking banana shoes!” “How do you know this?”

“I’m a huge fan!”

They made it to the jet ten seconds before Katherine and Elliott.

The door opened and a staircase eased down.

“Welcome aboard, Kyle and Abia,” said the flight attendant at the top of the stairs. “Do you have your permission slips?” “Yes!” said Kyle and Abia, gasping for breath.

“Then Mr. Lemoncello’s private jet is all yours.” She looked to Katherine and Elliott. “You two will be flying to North Carolina in Mr. Lemoncello’s recently retired Lemon Drop Prop.” Then she smiled and waved. “Buh-bye, now. Have a good day. Buh-bye.” Katherine and Elliott slumped off toward the propeller plane.

Feeling triumphant, Kyle and Abia scampered up the steps to the jet’s door.

The interior of Mr. Lemoncello’s private plane was unbelievably amazing. There were four Barcalounger-type recliner chairs facing one another around a circular game table. Each of the chairs had its own computer on a swivel that you could tuck away into the armrest. The jet was decorated with so many bright colors, it was sort of like flying inside a jumbo-sized crayon box.

“There is a hot tub in the lavatory,” said the flight attendant. “If you need towels or bathing suits, you will find them in the changing room just off the gymnasium with the stationary bikes.” “Will we have time to take a dip?” asked Kyle.

“Probably not. It’s just a short hop to North Carolina. But please enjoy all the features of our in-flight entertainment system.” She gestured toward the bulkhead wall. It was a giant flat-screen TV where you could watch movies and satellite TV or play Mr. Lemoncello’s latest video games.

“There is also a Goofitacious Gooseball table in the game cabin, which, as you may know, is a lot like foosball, but the players are shaped like geese and the ball like a goose egg, so it wobbles unpredictably when you whack it.” Kyle and Abia sniffed the delicious scents wafting through the cabin and followed the aroma into the galley, where a chef in a tall paper hat was pulling fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies out of an oven.

“Today’s in-flight meal service offers a choice,” the chef announced. “Chicago-style hot dogs. Or, from our halal menu, chicken and falafel over rice with white sauce and pita bread.” “The chicken, please,” said Abia.

“Me too,” said Kyle. “And the hot dog. And some of those cookies. I’m kind of hungry.” “This is the captain speaking,” said a voice from the cabin’s overhead speakers. “We are number one for takeoff. Flight attendants, prepare the cabin for departure.” Kyle and Abia plopped into their plush recliners and strapped on their seat belts.

“We should probably skip all the fun stuff and do Wright brothers research instead, huh?” said Kyle.

Abia nodded. “Pre-research might help us identify the fact we’ll need to find when we land in North Carolina.” “Good.” Kyle settled into his seat. “I want to win this thing!” “As do I.”

The jet gently lifted off.

Abia turned to Kyle. “We make quite a formidable team.” “Yep. We sure do!”

Then they actually leaned in and slapped each other a high five.