Prologue—The place where we explain the helicopter and how not to eat the green sauce at Las Hermanas and we don’t mention anything about love

Gustav is building a helicopter. Nobody knows because Gustav has been building it in small sections. He understands things like the physics of flight. He understands vectors.

I could never understand a science that doesn’t relate to humans or biology; but Gustav tells me his helicopter will be better than a stupid human.

He says, “Can you fly?”

Gustav believes his helicopter is invisible, and because he believes it, it is so.

There are two seats in Gustav’s invisible helicopter so he can take a passenger. There is space behind the seats so he can take a backpack. Snacks. A camera. A helicopter map. Maybe a parachute. Maybe no parachute. It probably depends on his destination.

“This isn’t some dumb mini-helicopter kit,” he said when he explained it at first. “It cost me fifty grand.”

“Where did you get that kind of money?” I asked.

“None of your business,” he said.

Gustav is building a red helicopter. It’s not invisible. If I want, I can see it on Tuesdays. Other people can see it on other days, but I can only see it on Tuesdays, which is when the #10 combo is the dinner special at Las Hermanas. My favorite. Dos enchiladas. Always get the red sauce. The green will burn your eyes out.

Gustav lives three blocks from Las Hermanas, so I stop by and see the helicopter on my way home. He is making good progress.

Mama says Gustav is mad crazy. I think he’s a genius. I think Mama is jealous. I think she would build a helicopter and take off as soon as she could if she could, but she can’t so she doesn’t and she says lies about Gustav like “That boy isn’t right in the head” or “He’s going to end up in the looney tunes if he’s not careful.”