فصل بیست وچهارم

chapter-24

“You folks are now officially ahead of the other team by thirty minutes,” said the pilot when the banana jet landed at First Flight Airport in Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina. “Outside, to your south and east, you will find the Wright Brothers National Memorial and Museum.” “Thank you, sir!” said Abia.

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

“And thanks for the food and stuff,” said Kyle, who had eaten the halal meal, the hot dog, and maybe six of those chocolate chip cookies. “Will there be more snacks on the way back?” “Roger that,” said the pilot. “And they will be all yours—provided, of course, you two are the first team planeside with the fascinating fact Mr. L is looking for.” “You mean the race for the jet is still on?” said Abia, burping up a little of the spicy white sauce from her chicken and rice.

“Affirmative. With Mr. Lemoncello, no race is ever over until it is over, ma’am. Enjoy your thirty-minute head start.” He saluted.

Kyle and Abia dashed down the staircase. They could smell salt water in the air because the ocean was just on the other side of the sand dunes. But neither one of them knew what they were looking for. Some sort of fascinating fact? It could be anything!

“Look,” said Kyle. “Over there. Four weird bikes.” Outside the small terminal, four bicycles with giant front tires but tiny back tires were propped up on bike stands.

“How does one even climb up into the seat?” said Abia.

“Very carefully,” said Kyle.

There was a sign planted in the ground near the antique bikes that let them know they were on the right track.

This is what bicycles looked like before the Wright brothers came along.

Use them to fly to where frozen figures stand in a throng.

“According to the research I did on the plane,” said Abia, “the style of bicycle we know today was, more or less, invented by the Wright brothers in Ohio.” She and Kyle hauled themselves up to the tiny seats above the giant front wheels of the old-fashioned bikes.

“Now we need to find the statues,” said Kyle.

“Statues? Why? What are you talking about?”

“Frozen figures. Those have to be statues.”

“There!” said Abia, wobbling on her lofty perch. “Do you see it?” “Yes!”

In a flat area below a stone monument on a sandy knoll, Kyle could see several bronze figures chasing after a replica of the Wright brothers’ first-flight biplane. One of the figures was manning a camera on a tripod. One was running alongside the plane. Four were cheering the plane and pilot on, clumped together in a throng.

“The man with the camera is most likely John T. Daniels,” said Abia.

“The guy who snapped the photo of the famous first flight,” added Kyle, because he’d actually done some research on the flight from Ohio.

The teammates pedaled around the looped drive, teetering on their ridiculously high bicycle seats. As they drew near to the statues, they hopped the curb and bumped across dune grass to the edge of the sculpture garden.

“Dismount!” hollered Kyle, trying his best to keep his balance on what felt like a unicycle with one not-very-helpful training wheel.

“How?” cried Abia.

“Tip sideways, close your eyes, and hope for soft sand!” They tumbled to the ground. It wasn’t pretty.

“Are you okay?” Kyle asked.

“Yes. I have sand in my shoes, but I am otherwise fine.” “Good,” said Kyle, running up to the bronze biplane. “That’s Orville lying down and flying the thing,” he said.

“And Wilbur running alongside the wingtip,” said Abia.

“So what fact are we supposed to find?” said Kyle, looking around.

“There!” said Abia. “That statue of the man wearing the military cap. I see something yellow in each of his hands!” Kyle and Abia dashed over to the statue. Bright yellow envelopes were sticky-taped to both of his bronze palms.

“Limit one clue per team, please” was printed on the front.

“Take the one on the right,” suggested Abia.

Kyle grabbed it and tore the envelope open.

Here’s a fact that’s fun and not a bore:

Count the adults and you’ll find four.

Now tell us more about Johnny Moore.

“Whaaa?” said Kyle.

“They might be able to help us inside the museum,” said Abia, pointing to a small building several hundred yards away.

Overhead, Kyle heard the drone of an approaching aircraft.

“It sounds like a prop plane!” he said. “It’s Katherine and Elliott!” “Back on our bikes,” said Abia. “Quickly.”

It took about five minutes and a dozen tries—because the weird bikes with the ginormous front wheels weren’t propped up in brackets anymore—but, just as Katherine and Elliott’s plane landed, Kyle and Abia were back in their saddles and pumping pedals frantically.

Fortunately, when they reached the museum, there was another bike rack with four fairly normal-looking bikes. A yellow Lemoncello sign was attached to the end of the stand: You’ve made progress and, thanks to the Wright brothers, so did bicycles.

Use one of these to travel back to the airfield and your flight home to Ohio.

Inside the museum, they found a National Parks tour guide named Rachel. She was wearing a lemon-and-cello pin on her brown park uniform shirt. That had to mean she was in on the game!

“Excuse me,” said Kyle. “Can you please tell us about Johnny Moore?” “Certainly,” said Rachel. “Johnny Moore was a boy, a little older than you two, who just happened to be walking along the beach on December seventeenth, 1903. He heard a commotion. Curious, he went to investigate and became the youngest witness to the Wright brothers’ first flight.” “Bingo!” said Kyle.

“Excuse me?” said the nice park lady.

“This is our fascinating fact,” added Abia. “Thank you, Rachel!” Kyle and Abia bolted out of the museum, hopped on one of the normal bikes, sped back to the airstrip, and climbed into the banana jet just as Katherine and Elliott were wobbling their way on bikes from their plane to the statues.

“Woo-hoo!” shouted Kyle.

“Woo-hoo, indeed,” said Abia.

The jet taxied to the runway and took off.

This time, the two teammates knocked knuckles.