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Oscar the giant, being the tallest resident of Magic, heard Chaz’s SOS call the instant he released it. Oscar met Chaz when he’d visited his house on the far east side of the mountain with Joseph and Jonah while he was recuperating from his bear attack.
He was just bringing in laundry, as it looked like it was going to rain in Magic. The sky, typically good natured with brilliant turquoise colors and soft white clouds floating by, like the ones Mother Nature let Oscar blow out of his pipe when he visited her, looked upset and grey today—like a blanket of anger. He caught the jumbo jet in his hand and piled his clothes high so the plane’s passengers would not be jolted when he put it down.
He was glad he’d just picked out and rounded his soft afro to perfection and he’d just put on his favorite dashiki. The bright colors complemented his Hershey bar complexion to perfection. He liked to look his best when meeting new people. And from the looks of the plane, he was getting ready to meet quite a few.
“Good thing I didn’t have my headphones on” he told Chaz. “I was getting ready to play More Bounce to The Ounce, by The Zapp band. You know how lost I get into my music.”
“I do, my friend. I’m very glad you heard my SOS. Here.” He handed the wounded pilot, Captain Chavez, to Oscar who put him on a heap of clothes he’d separated from the ones the plane was on. “Now—help me down.” Chaz jumped from the plane’s exit door into Oscar’s outstretched hand. He was glad his friend was doing laundry today. The landing of the jet went soft as a feather.
Oscar peeked into the tiny windows of the plane and saw the passengers stilled in motion. “They’re not sleep.”
“No, I have them suspended. They’re not aware a maniac took over their vehicle on the way to Paris and tried to crash it into the ocean.
“Why?” As big and powerful as Oscar was, his heart was as gentle as a child’s. He could never conceive of evil in anyone. Chaz Xanadu wished more of mankind had the tender soul of this gentle giant. “I wish I knew, my friend. I’ll have to contact your sheriff to have the man arrested. Maybe he can get to the bottom of his motives.”
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. In popped The Fates—Nonny and Topper—descendants of the famous Warehausen family of witches, and Sophie and Tory, all who’d telepathically heard the SOS by now. Chaz Xanadu filled them in on what happened, then went to get the sheriff who secured an ambulance that drove the pilot to the Magic Hospital. He left the passengers as they were.
Once Chaz and the sheriff had Brock off the jet and behind bars, they focused on what to do about 207 passengers running amok in Magic. The Fates suggested they call an emergency meeting of the townsfolk. Once they all came to Oscar’s, they decided to pitch in and offer lodging to the passengers. Each family took three to four passengers—keeping families together.
The Fates decided they’d bring the passengers to and let them know what happened. Chaz wanted no part. He made plans to get back on a plane in Albuquerque, headed back to Chicago to await his next assignment.
The Fates decided they’d hide the jet by poofing it onto Kirtland Air Force Base in Albuquerque as one of the models in the Base Aviation Museum once all the passengers were off. They were afraid Oscar might accidentally step on it if they left it in his yard and they needed it to transport the passengers back into the Earth Realm with their magic.
“Oscar, we need your help,” Topper told the giant. When we bring the passengers around, we need you to cup them in your hand and put them on the ground. Oscar was delighted.
The Fate Sisters removed the passengers from suspension and explained to them they were in Magic, New Mexico as guests because someone tried to crash their plane. They were all in shock. Once they gathered themselves, some were more than a little grumpy they didn’t make it to Paris and would be delayed for awhile. Just like some humans, thought Topper, someone saves their lives and all they concentrate on is being inconvenienced.
“Now we can’t get you all down by using the emergency exits, you’re going to have to let Oscar help you off the plane.” She pointed out the window.
They gasped at the giant with the big afro.
A man further back in the plane whose neck was as red as a tomato with leather-beaten skin shrieked.
“Oh, my word! Is that God? Are we dead?” He gasped, pointing to Oscar. His wife eyes—whose redneck and leather skin matched his were as wide as his open mouth. “I’ve been a redneck all my born days! He exclaimed.”
“Oh, that’s just Oscar.” Topper told them. “But if I were you—I’d rethink that redneck thing... you never know when you do meet your maker, who he’ll be.” she warned. “Or who she will be,” chimed Nonny, her sister whose hair, which changed colors several times a day was flaming red.
