The Wrong (Not Wright) Brothers

Caleb and Scott wandered around the yard looking for something to do. Their other siblings were predisposed and their parents were both immersed in adult things that were well beyond the boundaries of the boys' interest. It was bout two o'clock in the afternoon which meant there were several hours left in the day to be utilized. All that was left to be decided was how the thirteen-year-old and his eleven-year-old brother were going to spend those hours. They decided to head across the driveway where they occasionally spent some time building crude structures using the lengths of four by four that their father used to stabilized loads on the flat bed truck he drove for work. 

As they approached the far side of the driveway, they realized that there was something more than four by fours waiting for them. The quickened their pace slightly and were elated to find several large pieces of cardboard apparently at their disposal.

“Wow!” Scott exclaimed. “Check these things out!”

“Sweet,” Caleb responded. “These things are huge.”

The cardboard pieces varied in size from two foot by four foot pieces to four foot by six foot pieces. They were all fairly thick for cardboard with a thickness of almost an inch. The boys experimented with stacking them together in a number of fort-like structures until boredom once again overtook the situation. They sat for a few moments brainstorming over the different ways they might fight against the boredom that threatened their happiness until Caleb's head popped up and he turned to address his younger brother.

“Hey,” he began. “You know what?”

“What?” Scott responded.

“I'll bet we could fly with these things,” Caleb answered as he gestured towards the over-sized pieces of cardboard. “We could probably make a kind of glider thing-a-ma-bob and fly all over the place.”

“That would be so cool,” Scott replied. “What do you think we need?”

The two adolescents discussed the particulars of the project as they walked around the farm picking up the items they thought they would need. They walked through the barn and emerged with several lengths of orange baling twine and a small bale hook. Once they returned to where they had left the cardboard, they used the bale hook to make several holes in a few of the smaller pieces of cardboard and then fished generous lengths of the twine through those holes. Caleb helped his younger brother slide his arms through the twin loops so that two awkward cardboard wings were haphazardly fastened to Scott's biceps and shoulders. Scott assisted his older brother with his makeshift wings. The two boys stood opposite of each other to gaze upon their aerial equipment.

“Well,” Scott ventured . “What do you think?”

“I think we're in good shape,” Caleb responded with a confident nod. “Now we just have to figure out how to get enough speed to get off the ground. Any ideas?”

“We could use our bikes,” Scott suggested. “Which hill do you suppose is the longest around here?”

The boys turned in opposite circles surveying the terrain around them with concentration befitting the true aviation pioneers that they considered themselves to be. They both stopped as their eyes came to rest on the water way just north of their grandparents small farm. They looked at each other and nodded with satisfaction as they turned towards the house to fetch their bicycles.

It took them well over thirty minutes to get from the farmhouse to the top of the water way hill. The trip was hampered somewhat by the awkwardness of their cardboard contraptions. The learned right away not to walk too close to one another because their wings kept hitting each other. The hardest part was keeping their arms high enough to keep their bicycles from becoming a problem. The ends of their wings kept catching on the seats and the handle bars. Finally, the winged duo reached the top of the hill. They turned the bikes around and mounted up. 

“So,” Scott ventured. “When we take off, what should we do with our bikes?”

“You mean should he hang on to them or let them go?” Caleb clarified.

“Yeah,” Scott confirmed.

“Hmm,” Caleb thought for a moment. “I guess we should hang onto them if we can. It might be good to have them for when we land. If they're too heavy, just let go. We'll come back for them later.”

Scott nodded in response and both boys pushed off, being careful not to get too close to each other lest their wings should some how get tangled and cause them both to crash. At first the wing assemblies seemed to slow the boys down. Caleb leaned forward over his handle bars so that the cardboard was nearly parallel to the ground. This caused him to surge ahead of his younger brother. Scott saw Caleb's improved performance and followed suit, maintaining the distance between his brother's bike and his own.

About halfway down the hill, Caleb hit a bump and felt his heart rise slightly in his chest as the wheels of his bicycle left the ground. Scott missed the bump but was very encouraged by his brother's apparent success. Despite this momentary lift, the boys made it to the end of the hill without achieving the results they had intended. They skidded to a stop and caught their breath before discussing the results of this first experiment.

“Did you see me hit that bump?” Caleb asked excitedly in between breaths.

“Yes!” Scott replied. “I thought you were going to take off for a second.”

“Me to,” Caleb responded with a grin. “I wonder what we can do to get in the air next time.”

“I don't know,” Scott responded thoughtfully.”I just don't think we can get enough speed to lift off on our bikes. Maybe we need to jump off of something. Do you think the silos are too high?”

The boys stared thoughtfully at the thee blue Harvestores. The tallest of the three was eighty feet tall and the other two were sixty feet and forty feet, respectively. Caleb nodded as he weighed the options in his head.

“I don't think too high is a problem when your flying unless you get too close to the sun,” he mused.

“What do you mean?” Scott questioned.

“Well, I read this story about two brothers who made wings with wax and feathers because they needed to escape this island,” Caleb responded. “The one brother flew too close to the sun and the wax melted. He didn't make it but the other one did.”

“Yeah, but we didn't use any wax,” Scott argued. “Or feathers.”

“Well,” Caleb shrugged. “We probably should be careful anyway. That twine will melt if it gets too hot.”

The boys pushed their bikes into the grass and let them drop. They turned towards the silos to consider their options.

“I don't think we will be able to get these wings through the cage,” Scott stated apprehensively, referring to the steel safety cage that enclosed the silo ladder.

“I think you're right,” Caleb agreed. “Let's try something different.”

It wasn't long before the brothers found themselves walking up the hill to the Yankee barn. The Yankee barn stood just northwest of the farmhouse. It was a two story structure with a gambrel roof that their father had designed and built when he was in high school. The lower level had several stalls that were used to house calves until they were weaned. The upper level was used to store hay and straw bales but was mostly empty on that particular day. There was a full sized door in the east gable of the roof that was used to pass bales through for stacking in the barn. The boys gave each other matching looks that essentially said that'll do.

It took them a few minutes to make their way through the lower level of the barn and up the stairs with their awkward wingspans. The upstairs exterior door slid easily open. The boys stood in the opening. Scott had his left hand on one door jamb and Caleb braced himself against the other. The paused for a few moments as they contemplated the most effective way to achieve the lift off they desired. 

“What do you think?” Scott inquired of his older brother. “Running start?”

“I don't think that's necessary,” Caleb responded. “I think if we jump out, we should be high enough to glide down okay. We might even make it all the way down to the lower driveway.”

“That would be pretty sweet,” Scott declared. “Who's going to go first?”

“Why don't we sit down on the floor and go at the same time?” Caleb suggested.

Scott agreed this was the best course of action and sat on the floor, allowing his legs to dangle from the doorway. Caleb followed suit and prepared for the countdown.

“One, Two, Three!”

The boys jerked forward but lacked the resolve to propel themselves from their perch.

“Okay,” Caleb panted against the adrenaline in his chest. “Here we go. One. Two. Three!”

Again, the boys failed to launch.

“Okay,” Caleb commanded through gritted teeth. “For real this time. One! Two! Thr...”

“Don't you dare jump out of that barn!!” a panicked scream echoed through the air.

The boy jerked their heads from side to side looking for the source of the panicked command. They saw their mother standing in between the farmhouse and the summer house in her bare feet with a trembling finger pointed at them.

“It's okay, mom,” Scott called to her as reassuringly as he could. “We gots wings.”

“No you do not!” Christa responded with a trembling voice. “You have two pieces of cardboard! Those are not wings! You two get down here right now! And use the stairs! Do you hear me?!”

The brothers nodded their heads with disappointment as they pushed themselves back from the doorway. They stood up and Caleb closed the door before the walked slowly to the stairwell.

“I don't know what she's so worried about,” he grumbled to his younger brother. “This cardboard is pretty thick.”

“Yeah,” Scott agreed. “It's not like we're using cereal boxes. Do you think we're going to be in trouble?”

“I suppose so,” Caleb responded through a dramatic sigh. “It just depends on how scared she was.”

As one of the participants in this event, I am unable to remember anything beyond this point. I can only assume that our aviation equipment was dismantled and we were dispatched to our room until our misconceptions about flight could be corrected... or until dinner. What I do know is this: our short career as aviation pioneers was at an end. We never made such an attempt at flight again. From that day forward, we only ever took to the skies within the relative safety of our own imaginations.