G -1

by Kyle Thomas Bruhnke

  “Nicely done,” Jared praises me. I grin. This isn’t so hard. “But you better quit for now.”

  “How come? I’m just getting the hang of it.”

  “Look at your arms.”

  I can already see pink. “Yikes,” I say, getting up to put the welding equipment away.

  “Don’t forget that shirt tomorrow.”

  “You think I’m ready to work on the saucer?”

  “I think if you practice a little more in the morning you’ll do fine,” he replies. “You’ll know. At some point you’ll feel comfortable that you’re doing it right and… well… you’ll know.”

  “If you say so,” I acknowledge, looking at him as if he’s a little nuts. But I already know that.

  I watch while he shuts off the welder. Then, as we walk towards the door I ask, hopefully, “Are you going to stop by before you head for The Butte, just in case I have any questions?”

  “We can do that. Sure,” he agrees. I give him a ride back to his house and head home.

  Wednesday comes cool and bright. A weather front has gone through overnight dropping enough rain to wash the dust from the plants and air. The scenery is vibrant with color and refreshed by the water. Each breath I take seems full of energy and smells sweet. Gramps once told me that was from the ozone that gets carried down to Earth in raindrops.

  I’m already out in the old truck when I remember the shirt. As I pass through the kitchen a second time, Mom is finishing up with the breakfast dishes. She’s having a good day, too.

  “Forget something?” she asks.

  “I need a long sleeved shirt.”

  “It’s not that cold outside, is it?” she wonders, looking out the window over the sink at the thermometer. “Hmmm, it’s already seventy-eight,” I hear her say as I bound up the stairs.

  When I get back, she’s leaning against the sink with her arms crossed and resting on her belly, which has been getting larger. “What are you guys up to over there?” she asks.

  “Jared’s teaching me how to weld,” I explain quickly, hoping to keep moving and not have to answer too many questions.

  “Weld? Weld what?” she demands patiently.

  I stop to answer. “It’s just that gyroscope exhibit we’re working on. Jared’s teaching me.”

  “Jared? What does he know about welding?”

  “His dad taught him a couple of years ago. And Willie too! He does that kind of stuff all the time at his dad’s shop.”

  “So why do you need to know how to weld?”

  “Well, I don’t really need to know, I guess, but it’s kind of cool and I want to help.”

  “Hmm.” She has her worried look on

  “Don’t worry, Mom. They’re teaching me right. That’s what the shirt is for,” I explain, holding it up, “because the welder puts out enough UV to get sunburn.”

  “I was wondering how your arms got so red.”

  “It’s nothing really.” I try to sound reassuring.

  “Well, just be careful. We don’t need any visits to the ER these days.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  “Your father and I are going to have to visit and see what you’re up to over there.”

  That’s the one thing I am most concerned about. We really don’t need any parents snooping around. “But we’re almost done and I was hoping you’d wait until it’s ready. It’s going to be really cool.”

  She looks at me apprehensively like she thinks I’m trying to hide something. “Well, we’ll see.”

  “Okay then. Got to go. See you for dinner.” I hurry out to the truck without trying to look hurried, and drive to the hangar.

  I’m later than I wanted to be. The big doors are already wide open. I close the door of the truck and walk in expecting Jared to be waiting or working on something. Nobody is there. I walk over to the welder. It’s the same as we had left it the night before. Then I spot a note on a scrap of paper.

  Ty - Jen got here early and you’re late, so we left. JC

  “Well that’s nice,” I say out loud. “So much for asking questions.” I throw the note on the floor and start to mill around lacking any enthusiasm to get started. That’s Jared. Always saying he’ll do something, and then going off and doing something else. Jerk! I go sit in the pilot’s seat to sulk, but there’s no point stewing on it.

  I look thoughtfully at the saucer. It is looking more real all the time. Then I think about all the work that is left to do and all of the problems left to solve. I get up and head over to the podium to get the clipboard where we keep the few plans we actually have, and carry them back to the pilot’s seat. I look at the spreadsheet of weights I’m supposed to be keeping, write in what I can remember, and begin looking over the physical drawing for the saucer.

  Willie had thought the best place for the fuel cells would be behind the pilot’s seat and has already drawn them in. I start adding circles to indicate where the tubes will go for the lifters and the pitch controllers. How many had Jen estimated? Thirty-two of each, I think.

  The lifters are easy to position. They have to go right on the cowling between the rib connections. Then I draw the pitch controllers on both sides of the ribs, one inside and one outside the spars. There should be enough strength there.

  How should the wiring go? It has to be balanced. Boy, there’s a lot of wiring to do. I start drawing lines. Of course for safety, maybe every other one should come from the opposite fuel cell. That way, if one fails, I won’t lose all lift or control and maybe I could at least achieve a soft landing.

  Pretty soon the paper is covered in lines and labels. It’s a mess, but might help somewhere down the line. I look up from the drawing. And we have to make sure none of the power or control cables are rubbing on the frame anywhere to avoid a short. That would suck!

  “Hey! What are you doing?”

  I look up to see Kylie walking in through the big doors. “Nothing. Just trying to figure out how the wiring’s going to go.” She gets close enough so we don’t have to yell.

  “Before he left, Jared told me I should come out to check on how the welding is going.”

  “Yeah? How nice of him,” I say with an annoyed tone in my voice.

  “Hey! I’m just trying to help out,” she pleads innocently. “I’ll gladly go back to my air conditioned house.”

  “It’s not you. Aw, never mind.” I’m glad to see her. “I got sidetracked,” I confess. “And I really didn’t feel much like welding. I suppose I ought to get to it though.”

  “Yeah, it’ll be lunchtime soon,” she informs me.

  I pat around for my phone so I can check the time, but can’t find it.

  “Forgot your phone, I guess,” she says knowingly. “I kind of figured that.”

  “Why would you figure that?”

  “Willie called to the house around nine. That’s the other reason I came out here. He said he tried your number because he knew you’d be here today and Jared wouldn’t, but he got no answer.”

  “So what’s up with Willie?”

  “He wants to bring the gyro point over at lunch time.”

  “Gyro point?” I ask with amusement.

  “That’s what he’s calling it.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear it’s ready. I was wondering how long it would take, but I didn’t expect it this soon.”

  “I think Willie’s really psyched about this whole thing.”

  “I suppose I better get welding, then.”

  “I suppose,” Kylie responds glibly, casting her gaze on the saucer. “She looks good. Do you really think it will fly?”

  “I’m beginning to, but there’s a lot to do. Can you hang around and help a while?” I ask hopefully.

  “I suppose,” she says playfully. “What should I do?”

  “I guess you could clean the areas I have to weld with that brush,” I say pointing, “but you might get kind of dirty.”

  “I’ve gotten dirty before,” she replies happily.

  “I should pract
ice a little more before I actually do the real thing.”

  “Good idea,” she agrees, and picks up the brush. “Is this your practice piece?” walking up to the aluminum Jared and I had worked on last night.

  “Yep.” She begins running the brush over the seams I will try to join together. As I put on the shirt and ready the gloves, helmet, and welding equipment, I watch her work and am suddenly glad Jared isn’t here. Kylie is much nicer to work with.

  I practice for a little more than a half hour. “What do you think?” I ask her as I pull my shield up to look at the latest weld.

  She has donned the other helmet which is too large for her head, and has to steady it with one hand as she raises the shield to take a closer look. There are gray smudges on her chin and cheeks, and a bright spark in her eyes. “Looks good to me. Solid and smooth. I think you’re ready.”

  “Let’s move over to the saucer then.”

  I’m kind of nervous. This is for real and if I do a poor weld, well, hopefully somebody will spot it before it causes any real problems.

  I quickly explain to Kylie how Jared and I had worked together on the ribs and skirts. Everything is cut, and I had clamped the three remaining junctions before we stopped yesterday. I think we’ll be able to finish by the time Willie shows up.

  Kylie and I work well together. She seems to be able to sense what I will have to do next and is always one step ahead, whether it’s moving the grounding cable or brushing off the next joint to be welded. She watches the length of my filler bars, too, and has the next one ready right when I need it. We finish quickly.

  “That was fun,” she states when the last weld is completed and the equipment has been shut down.

  “You’re a good helper,” I comment. “It seemed to go much faster with you than with your brother.”

  “Thanks,” she smiles. “Is it break time now?”

  “Lunch time, if I know my stomach.”

  “Mine’s at the house. Let’s go eat there.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Though today is cooler than most of the others we’ve worked out here, having lunch in the air conditioned house will be a nice change. The company will be a nice change, too. I throw her bike in the back of the old truck and we are soon back at the house.

  The curtains are drawn to keep the heat out when we walk into the kitchen. We take turns washing up, and then she gets her sandwich ready and we sit down to eat.

  “Is your dad skipping lunch today?” I ask between bites, expecting him to walk in at any time.

  “Probably not. He’s down in Las Cruces again, trying to finalize the deal he’s been working on for so long. He’ll probably have lunch with the woman he’s met. She’s part of the negotiating team.”

  “You sound a little more comfortable with the idea now.”

  “I guess I am,” she says reflectively. “I’ve thought about it a lot since that dinner weekend before last. She’s pretty nice. Not like Mom, of course,” she adds with emphasis, “but he was a lot more joyful when she was here, and I’ve really noticed a difference in him since then.” I nod and take another bite of my sandwich so I don’t have to say anything.

  “Jennifer and I have talked a little too, just the two of us. With everything she’s going through with her folks, she concluded that everybody’s got to do whatever it takes to make them happy. Her dad says he has to move out and her mom agrees. She doesn’t like it, but it’s not her decision. So I figure I may not like it but Dad’s got a right to be happy, and if Margarit is part of it, well, that’s not my decision.” She takes a bite of her sandwich and looks at me with a slightly sad expression, resigned that this is the way things are going to be. At least for a while.

  “So that’s her name, Margarit?” I ask.

  “Yeah. She’s got long red hair and knows a lot about the private space business. Maybe that’s what they have in common. That and being single.”

  “So she’s never been married?”

  “Dad told us she’s divorced about five years now. She hasn’t tried to get real personal with Jared or me yet, but I expect it one of these days.”

  “Maybe they just want to be friends?” I suggest.

  “Maybe. We’ll see.” She finishes the last bite of her sandwich and gets up to put her plate in the dishwasher. Suddenly I feel a little strange as I realize we’re alone in the house. It feels comfortable though, like we are the adults. I wonder what Mom would say?

  I hear the low rumble of an engine outside. “I’ll bet that’s Willie,” I say getting up from my seat and closing the lid on my lunchbox. Grabbing the soda Kylie offered me earlier, I head for the door and peek through the curtain. “Sure enough,” I say. She comes up behind me resting her hand on my waist to look out. Willie is behind the wheel of the wrecker, towing a trailer. Together we go outside and wave him on out to the hangar. Then we get into Gramps’ old truck to follow him.

  “Hey Ty, hey Kylie.” He grins as we climb out of the truck, probably wondering what we were doing in the house together.

  “Hi ya, Willie,” I greet him. “What’ve you got here?” I look at the cone shaped object on the trailer. Then I notice the two wheels that had once been on the hy-ped. The rubber tires have been replaced by ribbons of steel to create mass for the gyroscope.

  “Wow!” Willie exclaims, ignoring me and looking through the hangar doors at the saucer. The superstructure sits entirely on the stands which hold the cowling a few feet off the ground. Kylie and I walk up beside him forgetting the gyroscope for a minute.

  “Yeah, we’ve been busy,” I report as he begins walking excitedly towards the craft. “We need you to check my welds, though.”

  Willie walks around the frame, eyeing and rubbing a finger over a few of the skirt welds. “These last ones are pretty sweet,” he comments.

  “Those are the ones Tyler finished up this morning,” Kylie boasts for me. “All the others are Jared’s.”

  “I probably could have guessed. I can see your knack for artistry, Ty. That’s pretty work.”

  Pretty isn’t a word I’d expect in a compliment from Willie. “As long as they hold. That’s all I care about.”

  “Oh, they’ll hold. They’ll all hold. You guys have done a good job from what I’ve seen so far.” He finishes his short inspection and comes back over to where we’re standing. “Let’s jack her up and see if we can position this gyroscope thingy underneath.”

  “So how do we move this thing in?” I ask.

  “I guess I’ll just drive in,” Willie states, getting into the wrecker and starting it up.

  Willie pulls in on the left, past the podium, parking so the trailer is along side the saucer. “I’m still not very good at backing the trailer up,” he explains, “but we can easily spin it into position from here.” He unhooks the trailer as Kylie and I walk up. “I’ll steer with the tongue. You guys push, but not too fast. It’s pretty hard to stop this thing once it gets rolling.”

  We push and the trailer easily swings around so that the back is about six feet from the edge of the skirt. We have to pull back so it will stop. Willie cranks down the support leg to keep it near level. “Block those wheels,” he instructs me as I watch him go around the side and lift a pair of four by four wood blocks out of the bed. I mimic his actions on the other side. The trailer is secure.

  “Okay then.” He looks at the gyroscope frame, then pulls a hydraulic jack off the trailer and wheels it under the ribs to the cowling. “We’re going to need some of those blocks and pieces of wood that were used to support the ribs before you welded them. It looks like we need to raise the cowling up another foot and a half.”

  Kylie and I start bringing the blocks over. We set them down outside the skirt. Willie is working the jack, pushing the cowling up, and has a few notches left on the stands before he’ll need our help.

  “This is gonna take a while,” he informs us. “I can only do an inch or two at a time so the saucer stays level and doesn’t fall off the stands completely
.” He sounds like he is talking more to himself than to Kylie or me.

  It doesn’t take long for Kylie and me to scoot the blocks under to where Willie is working. I help by placing blocks under the jack stands when he tells me to. At first, I feel a little nervous working under the ribs while he raises them up, but they are solid and not wiggling at all.

  Kylie feels safer watching us from outside the frame. I can see she is getting a little bored, but has found the plans I drew the cabling ideas on earlier and spends some time looking them over. Then she leaves.

  “Do you have a measuring tape on ya?” Willie asks. “I don’t want to raise this thing up more than I have to.”

  I crawl out, find the tape, and slide it to him. Then I stand to take a look at the gyro frame sitting on the trailer. Looking back under the ribs to where Willie is measuring, something seems wrong. “Um, Willie?”

  “Yeah, Ty?” he replies as he takes another measurement from the floor to the cowling. “Two foot eleven and a half. We just need another inch and a half. What’s up, buddy?”

  “When we slide the gyro frame in,” I say cautiously, “where’s it going to attach?”

  “On the underside of the cowl… Dang!” Willie shouts. “Boy do I feel dumb. Good catch, Ty. I guess we can’t have the jack stands under the cowling if that’s where the frame’s going to go, can we?”

  “So, we’ll move them to some of the ribs?” It seems the only logical thing to do.

  “Yep. That’s easy enough. There’s one more round to raise everything up high enough anyway. We’ll need more blocks, though.”

  I retrieve the blocks and crawl back under the saucer to help move the jack stands. Another half hour passes before the cowling is up high enough to fit the gyro frame under it. Willie and I come out from underneath and survey the project.

  “Now comes the fun part,” he says.

  “Don’t you have to get back to work?” I ask, surprised that he has stayed this long, and hoping that we are done for the day. A light of excitement is in his eyes though, and I know we’ll still be here for a while.

  “It was pretty slow at the shop today,” he informs me, “so I got to take the afternoon off. That and my dad has been watching me work on that frame, and he wants me to be done with it.”