by Gary Paulsen
FLY BOY
Andy was about to rap on the window when he saw the door burst open. The two men jumped into the room and grabbed the old man.
It startled Andy, and he jerked his arms, which made him move away from the window. Wrong way, he thought. You’re going the wrong way! He flapped his arms to bring himself back, but in his panic he overreacted. Before he could stop he slammed through the window and onto the floor of the laboratory.
“What the—?” One of the men holding his grandfather turned. “It’s a kid. A flying kid!”
Andy stood. “Let go of my grandfather!”
“Your grandfather? Is that right, old man? Is this your grandson? So if we take him and bend him a little you’ll tell us what we want to know—is that right?”
“Run, Andy! Get away!” Andrew Hawkes shouted.
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YEARLING BOOKS are designed especially to entertain and enlighten young people. Patricia Reilly Giff, consultant to this series, received her bachelor’s degree from Marymount College and a master’s degree in history from St. John’s University. She holds a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University. She was a teacher and reading consultant for many years, and is the author of numerous books for young readers.
Published by
Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers
a division of
Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036
Copyright © 1998 by Gary Paulsen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
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eISBN: 978-0-307-80410-5
Series design: Barbara Berger
Interior illustration by Michael David Biegel
v3.1
Dear Readers:
Real adventure is many things—it’s danger and daring and sometimes even a struggle for life or death. From competing in the Iditarod dogsled race across Alaska to sailing the Pacific Ocean, I’ve experienced some of this adventure myself. I try to capture this spirit in my stories, and each time I sit down to write, that challenge is a bit of an adventure in itself.
You’re all a part of this adventure as well. Over the years I’ve had the privilege of talking with many of you in schools, and this book is the result of hearing firsthand what you want to read about most—power-packed adventure and excitement.
You asked for it—so hang on tight while we jump into another thrilling story in my World of Adventure.
Contents
Cover
Other Yearling Books You Will Enjoy
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
CHAPTER 1
The backseat of the limousine was covered in soft brown leather. There was a telephone within easy reach, a television, and a snack bar stocked with sodas, peanuts, and candy. The chauffeur checked the rearview mirror every few seconds to see if his fourteen-year-old passenger needed anything else.
Andrew Carson Hawkes III, or Andy, as his parents had always called him, sat like a statue in the middle of the luxurious seat. Nothing about the car or the trip interested him.
He hadn’t said a word since they’d left the airport. His eyelids were half closed and he just sat, emotionless.
His mother and father had been killed while they were out jogging. A hit-and-run driver had swerved onto the sidewalk, taken both their lives, and sped away. It had only been twenty-four hours since the funeral.
Andy was going to live with his grandfather, the first Andrew Carson Hawkes, a frail, eccentric invalid whom he barely knew. Andy had met him for the first time at the service. His grandfather had mysteriously slipped out of the service early. And he had arranged for a neighbor to close up his son’s house in California, pack his grandson’s belongings, and put him on a flight for Colorado.
Henry, the chauffeur, watched Andy in the mirror for a long moment. The boy was definitely a Hawkes. He had the same dark brooding eyes and strong chin as his grandfather. His hair was a little lighter, but the prominent cheekbones and square shoulders told of his heritage.
Not far from the city of Brookvale, the car rolled to a stop in front of a large black wrought-iron gate with the initial H welded into each side. A guard standing in a small brick building waved to them through a plate glass window as the gates swung open.
Henry waved back. Andy stared out the car window at the estate.
The grounds were beautiful and spacious, covering more than two hundred grassy, wooded acres. The car traveled for some time on a newly paved road through a grove of trees and then into a bright green meadow. Now the road was lined with immaculately pruned rosebushes of various colors, which led all the way to the house.
Henry pulled the car into the circular driveway in front of the mansion and turned off the engine. He hopped out and opened the door for his young charge.
Andy stepped slowly from the car, scratching his head and looking up. The mansion was four stories high. Small round terraces jutted out in front of every window and marble figures adorned the facade.
“Whew! I knew my grandfather was rich, but I didn’t expect this.”
Henry stifled a laugh with a cough. “Yes, well, would you like me to show you to your room, Master Hawkes?”
Andy sighed. “I guess I don’t have a lot of choice, do I?”
Henry took a large leather bag out of the trunk and walked toward the front of the house. “Come with me, sir.”
They walked up the wide steps and through the solid oak front doors. The inside of the mansion was just as impressive as the outside. The entry floor was marble. An enormous chandelier hung from the ceiling and lush oriental carpets covered the massive stairs leading to the second floor.
“Would you like to use the elevator, sir, or do you prefer the stairs?”
“What? Oh, the stairs are fine.” Andy was staring at a row of paintings. They were oil portraits of men and women from past generations. They all had something in common—a small red mark that resembled a pair of tiny wings on the left side of the face near the ear.
Andy’s hand went to his own face.
Henry cleared his throat. “Those are your ancesto
rs, sir. I see you’ve inherited the Hawkes family birthmark. Your grandfather has it too.”
“Have you known him long, Henry?”
“Oh, yes. A very long time, sir. I’ve been in Mr. Hawkes’s employ for over fifteen years.”
“What’s he like? I mean, is he”—Andy twirled his finger around his ear—“you know, loony?”
“Whatever makes you ask such an odd question, sir?”
Andy shrugged. “Never mind. It was just something I heard. I could use a hot shower if you’ll show me to that room now.”
Henry led the way up to the second floor and opened a door. “Here are your quarters. I hope you’ll like them. Mr. Hawkes had it especially decorated for you … although neither he nor I was sure what things fourteen-year-olds might appreciate these days.”
“It’s great.” Andy glanced around the room. There was a king-sized bed and a walk-in closet. You could stick about thirty fourteen-year-old boys in here, Andy thought.
“The bath is to your left. Would you like me to unpack for you, sir?”
“I can handle it. Thanks.”
“Very good, sir. Will you be needing anything else?”
Andy shook his head. “I can’t think of anything.” Henry backed out the door, putting his hand on the knob. He paused and cleared his throat. “To answer your previous question, sir … no, he’s not.”
“Not what?”
“Not, as you put it, loony.”
CHAPTER 2
Andy finished buttoning his shirt and sat down on the edge of the bed. The shower had made him feel better. For a while, it had even taken his mind off things—things like losing his parents and having to move away from his best friends to a place he’d never seen before.
He walked to the door and opened it. No one was in the hall. The elevator was just across from his room. He entered it and started to press the first-floor button.
But he hesitated. “I guess if I’m going to be stuck living in this museum, I might as well see what the place looks like.” He pushed the third-floor button.
When the doors opened he peeked out. Before him was a long hall almost identical to the one on the second floor.
He stepped back inside and hit the fourth-floor button. The doors opened again to reveal a musty-smelling gray carpet and plenty of dust and cobwebs.
“Hmmm. I’d say the maid doesn’t get up here too often,” Andy mumbled.
A door at the end of the hall opened and Henry stepped out. He straightened his jacket and took a step toward the elevator. When he saw Andy, he jumped. “Oh my, Master Hawkes. You surprised me. I didn’t expect you to be up here.”
“I really didn’t expect to see you up here either, Henry. What’s in there?” Andy pointed at the room.
“In there?” Henry looked over his shoulder nervously. “Oh, supplies, you know. Things like that.” He stepped into the elevator. “Shall we go down? Your grandfather is back. He’ll probably be wanting to see you.”
Andy frowned and studied the door. “Isn’t the fourth floor an odd place to store supplies? I mean, it’s not exactly handy to the rest of the house.”
Henry pushed a button. The doors closed and the elevator started down. “Your grandfather told me to say that he regrets not being here when you arrived. Unfortunately he had a business meeting at the Hawkes corporate offices. Some sort of trouble in one of the laboratories.”
Andy forgot about the door for a moment. “What kind of company does my grandfather own?”
“It’s companies, actually. I believe most of them are of a scientific nature. But I’ll let your grandfather tell you more about that when he thinks the time is right.”
“Why hasn’t he ever wanted to meet me before?” Andy asked.
Before the chauffeur could answer, the elevator doors opened on the first floor and Henry stepped out. “If you’ll come this way, Master Hawkes. Your grandfather is waiting in the study.”
CHAPTER 3
The only light in the gloomy study was a thin shaft that filtered in through a crack between the heavy velvet draperies. It took a few seconds for Andy’s eyes to adjust to the dimness.
“Come in, young man. Let me have a look at you.”
The crackly voice came from a dark corner. Andy turned to it. A bent old man with white hair and an equally white mustache sat in a wheelchair, his legs covered with a long rug.
Andy stepped forward. He looked down at the man but didn’t say anything.
The old man stared back. Finally he broke the silence. “Well, let’s get to it, son. I know you have a lot of questions. We might as well get things out in the open.”
“What’s the big secret up on the fourth floor?”
His grandfather’s eyes opened wide. A chuckle escaped his lips. “Here such a short time and you’ve already found us out? Don’t worry, we’ll talk about that later.” He studied his grandson’s face. “You’ve got the Hawkes looks—and disposition from the sounds of things. Is there anything else you want to know?”
“Yes, sir. Not that it makes any difference, but why haven’t I ever met you before? How come you never came around? Did you have some kind of problem with my dad?”
“No. I loved your father very much.” Andy’s grandfather cocked his head to one side. “Never take things at face value, son. Always look for what others might miss.”
Andy was confused. “I don’t understand.”
The old man pulled on a cord and Henry appeared at the door. “You rang for me, sir?”
“Yes, Henry, I did. I think we should let Andy in on our little secret. I’ve been keeping tabs on him through the years. My sources tell me he’s a smart boy, trustworthy and capable. And since he’s living here now we’d probably have a hard time hiding it from him anyway.”
“Whatever you say, sir.”
“Good.” Andrew Hawkes threw back the rug from his legs, straightened his back, and stepped out of the wheelchair. He was tall and distinguished-looking, and didn’t seem half as old as he had before. He winked at his grandson. “See what I mean, boy?”
“Not exactly.” Andy frowned. “Why do you pretend to be weak and sick if you’re not?”
“A necessary masquerade, my boy. For years a certain criminal element has been after my inventions. They will stop at nothing to get their hands on some of them. What these people haven’t figured out is that most of my inventions don’t come from my corporations and laboratories. They come from here.” He pointed at his head.
Andy looked over his shoulder at Henry. “I thought you told me he wasn’t—”
“What?” The older Hawkes laughed. “Crazy? That too is part of the charade. I had Henry start the rumor. If the world thinks I’m a little off my rocker, they won’t have a clue what’s really going on.”
“What is really going on?” Andy asked, shaking his head to clear it.
“Are there any servants lingering about, Henry?” Andy’s grandfather asked.
“None, sir. The gardener and cleaning service come tomorrow. At present we are alone.”
“Very good.” Andrew Hawkes rubbed his hands together. “Then let’s take Andy up and show him the backbone of Hawkes Laboratories.”
CHAPTER 4
“What you are about to see could put you in great danger. You will have to be very careful from now on. If anyone suspects that you know what really lies at the heart of my success … well, let’s just say they wouldn’t think twice about hurting you.”
Henry fumbled with a key and then opened the door. He stepped aside so that Andy and his grandfather could go in.
“Wow. This room looks like it’s right out of a Frankenstein movie. It must cover the whole fourth floor.” Andy watched as a strange blue light danced across an electric wire. He walked past some counters with beakers full of chemicals and stopped at a computer terminal. “Do you know how to work all this? It looks like the cockpit of a jet.”
“Not only do I know how, I’ve instructed Henry. He’s been an able assistant, alt
hough it is a little hard on him to be the cook, butler, chauffeur, secretary and lab assistant. If I had someone I could trust who was interested in learning …”
Andy scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I might be interested. But before I decide, tell me what kind of stuff you make up here.”
“Why don’t you show him, Henry?” Andrew Hawkes sat on a stool and waited.
Henry touched a button and the computer terminal came to life. He punched up a list. “If you want to know more about any of these items, just use the arrow keys.”
Andy studied the list. “Is there anything you haven’t invented? There’s everything from women’s makeup to radiation-free cancer treatments in here.” He turned in his chair. “But I still don’t understand. Why would anyone want to take your inventions away from you?”
“I take pride in the fact that my inventions have always been used for the good of human-kind. But once I patent something, it usually makes a lot of money. The people who have tried in the past to steal my ideas are only interested in the money. Kingpins of the underworld have broken into my laboratories. They’ve made threats on my life … and on my son’s.”
“Wait a minute.” Andy sat back in his chair. He sighed heavily. “Are you saying that my parents’ deaths weren’t accidents?”
Andrew Hawkes’s voice was faint. “I don’t know. I did everything I could to distance myself from them to ensure their safety. But last week I received a letter. It simply said that I should start watching because someone was going to show me an example of how rough things could get if I refused to hand over my latest invention.”
“Did you go to the cops?”
“Not personally. I had Henry take the letter to the police station. Because of my reputation they practically laughed him out of the building.”
“But we can’t let these people get away with it! There’s got to be something we can do.”
Andy’s grandfather ran his fingers through his hair. “I had the letter analyzed for fingerprints. There weren’t any. I also had my lawyer hire a private detective agency. So far they’ve found nothing.”
