The plane may have looked tiny on the outside, but inside it was gigantic. It reminded me of a super ritzy living room. A limousine-sized leather sofa lined one side, and along the other wall stretched a glass dining table for eight. At the back of the jet stood a regulation-sized pool table, which is a pretty weird thing to find on an airplane.
“OK, this is what I call cool!” Violet dropped her backpack onto the paisley rose-colored carpet.
“Now I’m a little less worried about getting us to the Amazon,” Rosalie Claire admitted. “That’s assuming you really know how to fly this thing, Mike. You can fly a plane, right?”
“I got it here in one piece, didn’t I? Besides, they say a chimpanzee could fly this thing. So sit back, strap yourselves in, and let’s ride this baby into the skies!”
The four of us sank into the sofa. It was so squishy soft it nearly swallowed us whole. On the coffee table sat baskets of foil-wrapped chocolates and sugar-sprinkled gummy worms.
I liked this plane more and more every minute.
The second we clicked on our seatbelts, Mike pushed the throttle and we barreled down the runway.
Our takeoff was whisper quiet as the Astral plane lifted us into the air.
“Open the tabletop and grab yourself some breakfast,” Mike called back to us.
“Hope there’s lunch too. By my calculations it’s going to take about five hours,” Noah said as he tilted up the top of the coffee table. Inside we found little boxes of cereal, steaming hot fried egg sandwiches, fruit, and ice-cold containers of milk.
I chose a box of Froot Loops. As I ate my breakfast, I kept thinking about what might lie ahead in the Amazon jungle. The last time I was there I nearly died plunging over a waterfall. How could it get any worse than that?
We tried playing pool. Violet neatly broke the triangle of balls. They wacked around until the plane dipped and every single one of them skittered to the left side of the table, dropping straight into the pockets.
“Sorry about that. They’re still working on steadying this thing.” Mike shrugged.
Out the window the clouds shot by faster and faster.
“Woo-hoo!” he yelled. “Just hit Mach-1! Seven hundred and sixty-five miles an hour.”
“That means we broke the sound barrier! All right!” Noah raised his fist in the air. “It sure won’t take five hours at this speed!”
“Brainiac,” Violet and I said at exactly the same time, and then we giggled.
We were traveling so crazy-fast I figured there was no question that we’d make it there before lunch.
Since the pool table was useless, we strapped ourselves back into our seats on the sofa and found a deck of cards in the coffee table drawer. We’d just slapped down a round of Crazy Eights when Mike unbuckled his seat belt.
“Bathroom break. Don’t worry, the plane’s on autopilot.” He made his way back to the restroom.
Rosalie Claire had just won the first hand with an eight of hearts when a robot voice blared from the cockpit’s computer.
“System overload. System overload.”
We heard Mike’s muffled yells through the closed bathroom door. “What’d it say?”
“System overload,” Rosalie Claire shouted back. “That can’t be good.”
The computer boomed out its warning again. System overload. System overload.
We heard the toilet flush, followed by a sharp rattle. The bathroom door was shaking.
“It’s locked!” Mike banged on the handle.
Rosalie Claire was about to unclip her seatbelt to go help him when the cards flew across the table and fell to the ceiling. Chocolates and gummy worms sailed through the air.
The plane had spun upside down.
We screamed and clutched the edge of the sofa. My heart raced so fast I thought it would burst from my chest. I watched Violet’s corkscrew hair stick straight out from her head, bouncing like golden springs. Rosalie Claire clutched my hand.
My stomach flopped and a flurry of candy and cards shot back down to the floor.
It was like a miracle. The plane was upright again.
And that’s when things really took a turn for the worse. The cabin filled with the deafening wail of the engines, and the airplane shot upwards, high into the sky.
I could feel the taste of Froot Loops, sour milk, and puke creeping up my throat. Please don’t throw up, please don’t throw up, I chanted in my head. Mind over matter. Mind over matter. I shut my eyes and swallowed hard, forcing it all back down.
Rosalie Claire let go of my hand and unclipped her seatbelt. Inch-by-inch, she crawled to the bathroom door. She yanked hard on the handle but it wouldn’t budge. Then she clung to it like a life raft as the plane rocketed upward.
I unbuckled my seatbelt.
“Son of a bee sting! What are you doing?” Violet hissed.
“Somebody’s got to try and fix this thing!”
I clutched and crawled my way up toward Command Central. For every two feet of progress, I’d slip and slide back one. When I finally reached the controls, I hoisted myself up into Mike’s pilot seat and clicked on the seatbelt. I grabbed the steering thingy. It was frozen into place.
On the instrument panel, strings of numbers flashed on and off faster than I could read. I touched the screen and the numbers reassembled into a series of letters, followed by a word that didn’t surprise me one bit: DANGER!
With Mike locked in the bathroom, there was only one other person who could help.
“NOAH!” I screamed.
Noah must have already been on his way. An instant later he pulled himself into the co-pilot’s seat and buckled up. His fingers frantically worked the controls. I’d never seen him look so fierce. His teeth clenched tight and his eyes bored down on the computer screen like a pair of gas-blue laser beams.
“Think, think, think.” He sounded angry with himself for not figuring it out.
Higher and higher the plane rocketed into the stratosphere.
That’s when I noticed something to the left of the screen.
“IS THAT A RESET BUTTON?” I shouted.
“TRY IT!” he yelled.
Would it turn off the plane and send us plummeting to the ground? Which fate would be worse? Shooting straight into outer space or crashing down to Earth?
I took my chances. With my pointer finger shaking, I reached over and hit the button. The computer shut off and flickered back to life. As the plane still shot upward, the following words appeared on the screen: Steering yoke—deactivated. Elevator tail flaps down—locked. Bathroom door—locked. Who in the world thought it was a good idea to design a plane with an automatically locking bathroom?!
Noah went to work. His fingers flew on the touch screen until the elevator tail flaps were up and the steering yoke was reactivated. The plane corrected its course and headed straight. Once again, the whining engines were whisper quiet.
That’s when we heard the click of the bathroom door. Mike hurried out. His face was filled with relief and covered in sweat.
He took control of the plane, gently guiding it back down from the heavens. “I owe you kids. Guess the autopilot needs a tune-up.”
Violet and Rosalie Claire rushed over and threw their arms around Noah and me in a giant group hug. Mike tried to join in.
“Please, just fly the plane,” said Rosalie Claire. “There will be plenty of time for hugging later.”
Mike gave a quick salute. “Roger that. And Noah? Madison? A million-and-one thanks.”
“A million-and-one you’re welcomes,” I said as I felt my heartbeat returning to normal.
“Teamwork.” Noah flashed a crooked grin.
It was just before noon when we touched down on a primitive grassy landing strip somewhere in the Brazilian jungle. I peered through the porthole window. As dangerous as the Amazon could be with its poisonous snakes and people-eating bugs, I decided this had to be a piece of cake compared to nearly flying straight into the sun.
Mike opened the hatch door and I was hit with the familiar jungle air. It was even thicker, hotter, and sweatier than Jacó. I was glad I’d remembered to pack bug spray.
“This is where you adventurers get off. Apologies for the technical glitches. Hugs?”
Everyone overlapped arms and pulled into a tight circle, touching head-to-head.
“Not that he’ll believe me, but at least I’ll have a great story to tell my little brother,” Violet said as we collected our backpacks.
“See? There’s a silver lining to everything!” Mike grinned.
“So, Mike?” Rosalie Claire asked. “Would you care to tell us what we’re supposed to do now?”
“My pleasure. Walk upriver about three miles. You’ll come to a lodge. Fabian is expecting you.”
We scaled down the ladder. It felt good to be on solid ground.
“How will we get back to Jacó?” I asked. Not that I was hankering to hop on that flying deathtrap anytime soon.
“I have a feeling you won’t be needing my services, Squirt. Catch you sometime in the future.” With that, Mike yanked up the ladder and slammed the hatch door shut.
We watched the Astral plane cough and sputter as it flew up into the skies, back to heaven-knows-where.
Noah and I looked at each another and crossed our fingers.
“Here’s hoping we’re not stranded in the Amazon again,” we said at exactly the same time.