Read Online The Amazing Flight of Darius Frobisher by Bill Harley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bill Harley
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Darius thought. He left the television on and headed to the library for his daily visit, leaving Anthony in the room, staring in silence as the television chattered on.
Over the next several days, early every morning, Darius tried to fix the bent rim. He took the wheel off the bike and clamped it in a vise bolted to the worktable in the basement. But when he tried to bend the rim straight with a pair of pliers, he only made it worse. If you’ve ever tried to get something back into shape after it’s bent, you know that it can be as hard as getting toothpaste back in the tube after you have squirted out too much. The wheel grew more and more twisted, and the spokes began to look like day-old, dried-up spaghetti.
“Oh, boogers!” said Darius, growing more and more frustrated. Every morning at ten o’clock, he had to stop working and wait until the next day, when the wheel problem seemed even more impossible to solve. One morning he sat on the basement steps looking at the mangled wheel in his hands, completely empty of hope. “I’ll never get this fixed,” he moaned. “I need help. I need to find that guy, Daedalus.”
But he had no idea where to look.
The next morning, Darius woke extra early and walked back to the spot where he had met the strange man. It was just an ordinary corner in the middle of an ordinary neighborhood. There was nothing around that had anything to do with a man whofixed bicycles and flew through the air. Darius sat on the curb watching the traffic. He waited as long as he could, hoping Daedalus might come by. But not one single flying bicycle appeared.
“Daedalus,” he said to himself, “I know his name is Daedalus.”
He could think of only one person in the town who might be able to help him.
“I’m going to the library, Aunt Inga,” he said that afternoon.
“Fine,” grumbled his aunt, not looking up from her television show. “Go off and do as you please. It’s all you ever do anyway. But don’t be dragging any books back into this house and cluttering up my home with your mess.”
The library is a nice place for anyone, but it seemed particularly welcome to Darius that day. The children’s section was almost empty, and Ms. Bickerstaff was behind her desk.
“Hello, Darius,” she said. “How can I help you today?”
“I need to find someone named Daedalus,” Darius said. “Can you help me?”
“Do you mean the man who flew?”
“Yes! Yes!” Darius said. “Do you know him?” He couldn’t believe it. “Have you seen him fly?”
Ms. Bickerstaff laughed. “No, I’ve never seen him fly. And if he really did, it was thousands of years ago.”
“What do you mean?” Darius asked. Now he was really confused. “I just met him the other day.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” said the librarian. “The Daedalus I know is in a Greek myth. Do you know the story?”
“No,” said Darius. He was disappointed that Ms. Bickerstaffdidn’t know the Daedalus who flew on a bike. Still, he
was
interested in the story. “Can you tell it to me?”
“Yes, I can,” said Ms. Bickerstaff. And she did.
9
Feathers and Wax
D arius sat down on a chair by the desk. Ms. Bickerstaff put her elbows on the desk and leaned toward him. She lowered her voice and whispered the story like it was a secret.
“Daedalus was a master craftsman and inventor. He lived on the island of Crete in the Mediterranean Sea. King Minos ordered him to build a labyrinth, an elaborate maze, to imprison the minotaur.”
“What’s a minotaur?” asked Darius.
“A creature with the head of a bull and the body of a man. And not nice at all. It ate children.”
“Just children?”
“Adults, too. Anything.”
“Yikes,” said Darius.
“Exactly!” said Ms. Bickerstaff. “Daedalus built a labyrinth so winding and complicated that the minotaur couldn’t get out. And they say that Daedalus invented sails for boats, too.”
“Pretty smart,” said Darius. A builder and an inventor.
Over the next several days, early every morning, Darius tried to fix the bent rim. He took the wheel off the bike and clamped it in a vise bolted to the worktable in the basement. But when he tried to bend the rim straight with a pair of pliers, he only made it worse. If you’ve ever tried to get something back into shape after it’s bent, you know that it can be as hard as getting toothpaste back in the tube after you have squirted out too much. The wheel grew more and more twisted, and the spokes began to look like day-old, dried-up spaghetti.
“Oh, boogers!” said Darius, growing more and more frustrated. Every morning at ten o’clock, he had to stop working and wait until the next day, when the wheel problem seemed even more impossible to solve. One morning he sat on the basement steps looking at the mangled wheel in his hands, completely empty of hope. “I’ll never get this fixed,” he moaned. “I need help. I need to find that guy, Daedalus.”
But he had no idea where to look.
The next morning, Darius woke extra early and walked back to the spot where he had met the strange man. It was just an ordinary corner in the middle of an ordinary neighborhood. There was nothing around that had anything to do with a man whofixed bicycles and flew through the air. Darius sat on the curb watching the traffic. He waited as long as he could, hoping Daedalus might come by. But not one single flying bicycle appeared.
“Daedalus,” he said to himself, “I know his name is Daedalus.”
He could think of only one person in the town who might be able to help him.
“I’m going to the library, Aunt Inga,” he said that afternoon.
“Fine,” grumbled his aunt, not looking up from her television show. “Go off and do as you please. It’s all you ever do anyway. But don’t be dragging any books back into this house and cluttering up my home with your mess.”
The library is a nice place for anyone, but it seemed particularly welcome to Darius that day. The children’s section was almost empty, and Ms. Bickerstaff was behind her desk.
“Hello, Darius,” she said. “How can I help you today?”
“I need to find someone named Daedalus,” Darius said. “Can you help me?”
“Do you mean the man who flew?”
“Yes! Yes!” Darius said. “Do you know him?” He couldn’t believe it. “Have you seen him fly?”
Ms. Bickerstaff laughed. “No, I’ve never seen him fly. And if he really did, it was thousands of years ago.”
“What do you mean?” Darius asked. Now he was really confused. “I just met him the other day.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” said the librarian. “The Daedalus I know is in a Greek myth. Do you know the story?”
“No,” said Darius. He was disappointed that Ms. Bickerstaffdidn’t know the Daedalus who flew on a bike. Still, he
was
interested in the story. “Can you tell it to me?”
“Yes, I can,” said Ms. Bickerstaff. And she did.
9
Feathers and Wax
D arius sat down on a chair by the desk. Ms. Bickerstaff put her elbows on the desk and leaned toward him. She lowered her voice and whispered the story like it was a secret.
“Daedalus was a master craftsman and inventor. He lived on the island of Crete in the Mediterranean Sea. King Minos ordered him to build a labyrinth, an elaborate maze, to imprison the minotaur.”
“What’s a minotaur?” asked Darius.
“A creature with the head of a bull and the body of a man. And not nice at all. It ate children.”
“Just children?”
“Adults, too. Anything.”
“Yikes,” said Darius.
“Exactly!” said Ms. Bickerstaff. “Daedalus built a labyrinth so winding and complicated that the minotaur couldn’t get out. And they say that Daedalus invented sails for boats, too.”
“Pretty smart,” said Darius. A builder and an inventor.
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