A/N: SORRY SORRY SORRY for taking so long to update! But you know, with the nice weather and all... I'll just shut up and get on with the story. Prepare for a massive time jump all the way to the summer after 9th grade!
Cloudy Hope
Chapter 10
Flying Car
"Okay, just go right along this like, straight across. Slow down some, you're gonna... WATCH YOUR HAND!" screamed Emma.
"AAHHH!" screamed Flint. He dropped the welding torch, which fell to the floor with a clatter. He yanked the goggles off his face and clutched his right hand.
Emma shut off the torch and pulled Flint into the bathroom. She turned the water in the sink on freezing cold and forced Flint's hand under it.
"I told you you should have worn the gloves," Emma chided.
Flint whimpered a bit. "I thought you were gonna teach me to weld without hurting myself!"
"You could use a bit of practice. Where do you keep the first aid kit?" asked Emma, looking around.
"Under the sink," groaned Flint. Emma bent down and reached around Flint's leg, pulling the first aid kit out. She grabbed a roll of bandages and some cream to treat burns. She took Flint's hand out from under the water and carefully dried it off. Then she smeared the cream all over his blistering palm and fingers and wrapped his hand in a bandage.
"Great, now I've only got one hand," said Flint sarcastically.
"Shut up," joked Emma as she put the bandages away. "At least you're ambidextrous. If I tried to write with my right hand I'd probably stab my left."
Flint bit his lip. "No comment."
"No seriously!" exclaimed Emma. She pulled the sleeve on her lab coat up to her elbow, revealing a long thin scar on her arm. "I tried cutting wood with my right hand."
"Can we get back to the Car so that I don't have to keep saying no comment?" laughed Flint.
"Sure," said Emma. "So, we'll finish this up and test it this afternoon, about an hour before the thunderstorm. Sound like a plan?"
"You really think we'll be finished by this afternoon?" asked Flint. Emma nodded. "Well, how did you know it's gonna storm this afternoon? It looks pretty clear out to me."
"Flint, it's the middle of July and we live on an island. There's gonna be a thunderstorm every afternoon."
"Good point." Flint looked up at the shell of the Flying Car. "Ready to bring up the engine?"
"Yep," exclaimed Emma, shedding her lab coat. She hung it up on a hook next to the elevator tunnel before disappearing through the curtain towards the magnetic elevator, or the mag-vator as Flint liked to call it.
He and Emma had found the engine in the junkyard across town, and with a lot of struggling, swearing, and tearing up the pavement, they managed to git it all the way back to Flint's lab. Emma the mechanic had fixed it up, and now it was ready to be installed into the soon-to-be-flying car! They had also found seats, a steering wheel, tires, and all the metal at the junk yard. Flint had "borrowed" all the glass they needed from the Mayor's car.
While Flint waited for Emma to bring up the engine, he tested out the rockets. They blew out orange flames, so they seemed to be working fine.
A mechanical screeching sound caused Flint to stop his pacing and turn around. A round opening in the center of the lab's floor was opening up, and the hidden elevator below was rising. A few seconds later, Emma came into sight, her hands black and greasy from manhandling the engine. The engine itself was the size of a lawnmower!
"Ready?" she asked, gesturing to the car frame. Flint nodded, and together, he and Emma pushed the car onto the lowering platform.
Flint ran over to a crane-like device that he had built, and he dragged it over right next to the engine. Even though the crane was on wheels, it was still extremely heavy. As soon as Flint got it into position, a sharp burst of pain surged from his left leg.
Flint gasped and put all his weight on his right leg. Emma had her back turned to Flint as she attached chains to the engine, so she didn't see Flint cringing. By the time she turned around again, Flint had regained his composure, even though he wasn't putting any pressure on his left leg.
Emma studied Flint's face, looking a bit apprehensive. "Are you okay?" she asked. "You look kinda pale."
Flint leaned back, leaning on one of the car seats they had yet to install. "I'm fine," he said, running his hand through his hair. "Just a little tired."
"When was the last time you ate anything?" asked Emma, wiping the grease off her hands, sounding like a mother who was punishing her child.
Flint shrugged and looked away guiltily. "Um..." When was the last time he had eaten? "I think Monday."
"Today's Friday," said Emma. She shook her head. "You've gotta start eating every day! You heard what the doctor said!"
"That's blackmail," muttered Flint, sitting in the chair. About a month ago, Flint and Emma had been working in the lab. Flint had admitted to feeling a little dizzy, but half an hour later, he had collapsed. Emma had borrowed" Tim's car and driven Flint to the hospital. The doctor said that Flint was dangerously malnourished, and that he needed to eat something ever day, not every week. Too bad the only thing to eat was sardines.
"I don't care if it it blackmail!" exclaimed Emma. She walked around to some metal crates behind the chair where Flint was sitting and climbed on top of them. She reached down and grabbed Flint under the arms with both hands and lifted him up into the air.
"Would you put me down?" gasped Flint, feeling like a little kid. Emma had done this on Monday too, which was how she had gotten Flint to eat. She had lifted Flint off the ground, standing on the crates (because Emma was only 5 foot 7, while Flint was at least 5 foot 10).
"God Flint, you only weigh 50 pounds! How do you even lift some of those things that are heavier than you?" asked Emma. She set Flint down again and sat cross-legged on the crate.
"I don't weigh 50 pounds," grumbled Flint, crossing his arms over his chest, pouting.
"I saw a scale in the bathroom," deadpanned Emma. "Go try it out. I'll bet you're still not above 60."
"And I bet I've already passed 70!" exclaimed Flint. He stormed off towards the bathroom and proceeded to weigh himself.
After a minute, Emma heard Flint's uneven footsteps shuffling back. "Well?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.
"Good thing I didn't put any money on that bet," Flint grumbled. "Can we get back to the car now?"
Emma rolled her eyes and slid down from the crate. "Let me install the engine," she said. She looked over at Flint and saw him leaning heavily on his right leg. "Why don't you sit down for a minute."
Flint rolled his eyes. "I'd better just get to work on installing the windows and seats."
Emma used the crane to lower the engine into the engine compartment, where she proceeded to hook up all the wires and tubes that would let the car run. Meanwhile, Flint clambered up on top of the car and began to attach the glass hatch. He and Emma fell into the easy silence that came with inventing.
After a while, Emma started a conversation. "Flint, are you gonna join the high school swim team again next year?"
"Yeah, totally," said Flint. In 9th grade, Flint had been on the swim team. It was actually something his pulmonologist had suggested, saying that it would be good for Flint by helping him control his breathing and his asthma. And it did seem to help. Now, the only time Flint ever had an asthma attack was when he was super angry, extremely scared or worked up, or if he ate strawberries.
Swimming had also helped Flint with rehabilitating his leg without stressing it. Exercising his leg in a weightless environment had allowed Flint to gain some muscle in that leg. However, it was still sickly thin compared to his right leg... which was also super skinny.
"Good," said Emma. "I'll be at all of them."
"Now it's my turn to ask a question," said Flint as he hung upside-down to get into the right position to screw something in.
"What?"
"Why don't you ever swim?"
Emma sighed. "I used to be able to swim. I bet I still can swim, but I just really don't like it. Y'know, after my cousin being attacked by a shark, and me swimming right next to her... There was a 50% chance that that shark would have grabbed me instead. Ever since then, I've just never liked the water."
"You have hydrophobia?" asked Flint. "I thought you just couldn't swim."
"Hey, don't make fun of phobias. I don't make fun of your fear of cars or thunderstorms!"
"Hey, lots of people have a fear of thunderstorms!" exclaimed Flint.
"Lots of dogs have a fear of thunderstorms."
Flint shook his head. "Whatever."
xxx
4 hours later
"And what is our time? We are done! And look at that! It's only 2:00 we are on FIRE!" exclaimed Emma, clearly excited that they had finished the car.
Flint, on the other hand, was exhausted. He was dirty, sweaty, and his leg was absolutely killing him. "Let's go test this thing," he said tiredly.
Emma looked sidelong at Flint. "You sure you don't wanna get something to eat first?"
Flint shook his head. "The energy used for digesting food can be used for other more important things."
"What could be more important than staying alive and conscious?" Emma muttered under her breath.
"Okay, ready to go down?" Flint asked. Emma scratched an itch on her wrist and nodded. They both stood next to the car and Flint hit a switch. The lift started to lower down through the metal structure, the door above them sliding closed. After a minute, the lift reached the bottom, and the large garage-like door opened up.
Flint and Emma pushed the car out onto the street, which was surprisingly empty. Actually, it was normal; around this time, most people took vacations to the states. It was extremely hot out today, and Flint was surprised that Emma was still wearing sweatpants. He shook his head and focused on what they were about to do.
"Emma, do you think you could drive down to the docks?" Flint asked nervously.
Emma nodded eagerly. "But I still think you should fly it. I mean, I just turned 15 like two weeks ago, and you turned 15 in May. You're closer to getting your license than me, so if Officer Earl comes by, we'll be in less trouble!"
Flint just stared as he climbed into the passenger seat. "If I pretend like that made sense, will you drive slow?" he asked, buckling his seat belt.
Emma nodded eagerly as she slipped into the drivers seat. She too buckled up, reached down to adjust something, put the car in drive... and floored it!
Flint was slammed back into his seat so hard that he nearly got whiplash and Emma was laughing like a maniac. She only had one hand on the wheel! Flint squeezed his eyes closed, praying for his life.
Suddenly, Emma made a sharp left turn and then slammed on the brakes. Flint heard her put the car in park, and only then did he open his eyes. They were right at the end of the dock, about 15 feet from the dock's end. Ah!
Flint gasped for breath, his shaking hand clutching his chest. "Damn... girl... you... have... a... freaking... lead... FOOT!" he gasped, shakily unbuckling his seat belt.
Emma smiled sweetly. "You're just luck I drove slow for you," she said sarcastically.
Emma reached into the back and grabbed the video camera, while Flint came around to the drivers side. Needless to say, he was nervous. He didn't like cars, he didn't like thunderstorms, and he was about to drive a flying car with a thunderstorm half an hour away on the horizon. Fun.
Emma hopped out of the car, camera in hand, and looked at Flint. "You okay?"
Flint gulped. "Nervous. Nauseous from your driving."
"Don't worry, you'll do fine. There's nothing you can crash into in the sky as long as you don't drive like me!" Then she looked behind her nervously, taking in the trail of destruction.
Flint laughed shakily. "It's not really the flying thing I'm nervous about, it's more like the whole landing concept."
Emma thought for a second. "Fly straight." With that, she walked over to the neighboring dock and set up the camera.
Meanwhile, three 10-year-old kids were standing on the ground at the other end of the dock. One of them was a boy and the other two were girls.
"What do you think is gonna happen to him?" a blonde girl asked her other two friends.
The other two all muttered the exact same thing: "He's gonna die."
Emma heard the kids talking, and she turned to see them. "Get outta here!" she shouted. The kids screamed and ran off. Emma rolled her eyes and scratched that spot on her wrist that wouldn't stop itching.
"Ready?" Flint called from the drivers seat.
"Roll your window up!" yelled Emma, which meant that she was also ready.
Flint rolled his window up, and Emma gave him the thumbs-up to let him know that the camera was rolling.
"FLYING CAR!" shouted Flint. He floored it, but in that nanosecond, both he and Emma realized an incredibly critical flaw in the design: THEY FORGOT THE WINGS!
God, we forgot the damn wings! Emma thought.
Flint was thinking something along the lines of: AAAAHHHHHH!
The car shot forward and, the second it left the dock, it plunged into the freezing cold water. The water here was only about 10 feet deep, not deep enough for the car to flip upside-down. It quickly settled on the bottom.
When the car had hit the water, Flint had been thrown forward and hit his head on the steering wheel. He must have blacked out, because when he opened his eyes, the car was sitting at the bottom of the docks. The front windshield had cracks in it, and little streams of water were pouring in. The water was already up to Flint's chest.
Flint scrambled to stand up, taking advantage of the high roof. He grabbed the door handle and tried to push the door open, but it wouldn't budge.
"Figures," panted Flint. He had to hurry and get out, because in his panic, he felt his asthma start to act up. He tried rolling down the window, but the handle was impossible to turn.
"Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap CRAP!" exclaimed Flint. He needed to calm down so that he could breathe, but it was difficult, and as the water level came up higher, panic began to set in. That was when he remembered something he had learned in science class: pressure differential! The pressure of the water outside the car was way greater than the pressure inside the car, so the weight of the water pushing on the doors and windows would make them impossible to open until the whole car filled with water!
By now, the car was ¾ of the way full. Flint took as deep a breath as he could, reached up, and grabbed the hatch. He turned it. This let more water cascade into the car and Flint took one last breath before it completely filled.
Already, Flint's lungs started burning. He swam to the door and gently pushed down the handle. He pushed a little bit... and the door swung right open!
Flint burst through the door, his vision already growing darker, and shot up through the water. He broke the surface, stuttering and gasping for air. He was dizzy from the lack of oxygen, coughing from the water he had swallowed, and shaking so hard that he couldn't move. Just as he started to slip under again, a pair of strong hands grabbed his arms and pulled him up, out of the water and onto the dock. Not a second later, Flint found himself in Emma's arms as she hugged him for all he was worth.
"Dear God Flint, I was so scared! You were underwater for so long I thought you had drowned! And look at you, you're freezing!" exclaimed Emma.
Even in the summer heat, Flint was so cold that he didn't have the energy to stand up. He was still sitting on the dock, and Emma had to kneel down to hug him.
Flint looked up at Emma. "Y-y-you l-look k-k-kinda p-pale," he stammered.
"That's 'cause ya almost gave me a freakin' heart attack! But you should see yourself! You're whiter than your lab coat!"
"W-we f-f-forgot the w-w-wings," muttered Flint, closing his eyes and leaning against Emma.
"Yeah, we did," moaned Emma. She stood up and grabbed Flint's arm. "Let's get you home before you pass out."
Flint tried to stand, but his legs seemed to be made of jelly. It was probably from the sheer terror of almost dying in a car for the second time in his young life. After a few failed attempts, he looked up pleadingly at Emma. "A little h-help please?"
Emma grinned a bit. She took a hold of Flint's arm and lifted him up onto his feet, smiling even wider.
"What's so funny?" Flint asked, holding onto Emma's shoulder to steady himself.
"Even soaking wet, you're still only 60 pounds."
"Ha ha, very funny. Let's just go home," moaned Flint, extremely sad that this invention didn't work. This was the one he had promised to make for his mother. And he failed.
"C'mon Champ, let's go," said Emma. She put Flint's arm around her shoulder to support him as they walked back down the docks. Flint didn't even bother hiding his limp.
As they reached land at the end of the dock, Emma whipped her head around, her eyes targeting a random pile of cardboard boxes. "GET OUTTA HERE!" she shouted.
The three kids jumped out of the pile of boxes and scattered.
Emma had to basically drag Flint back to his house. It was only a 10 minute walk, but by the time they were 3 minutes away, it started to rain. By the time they got to the Lockwood residence, Flint was literally dragging his feet on the ground, and Emma was supporting his entire 55 pound frame on her shoulder.
Emma practically kicked down the door. Tim, who had closed up shot early for reasons that were known only to him, nearly had an epileptic seizure when his son was dragged through the door, soaking wet, barely conscious, and coughing like he was dying.
Emma laid Flint down on the couch, as per Tim's instructions. Flint coughed some more and curled up into a ball.
Tim looked up at Emma. "What happened?" he asked, raising his eyebrow so that Emma could tell he was serious. It was actually extremely creepy, and if Emma hadn't been worried for Flint, then she would have run off screaming bloody murder.
"Well, we tested his new invention at the docks..."
"What new invention?"
"Flying Car," Emma whispered, cringing, hoping Tim wouldn't yell too loud.
"WHAT? He tried to fly in a flying car that he made HIMSELF?"
"It's now called the Sinking Car," whispered Emma.
"I don't even want to know," said Tim.
Flint coughed some, and then, with his eyes still closed, whispered: "Emma, you can go home. I'll explain it all."
Emma nodded, even though Flint couldn't see her. "Good luck," she whispered. With that, she sprinted out the door as fast as she could in her condition and didn't stop until she was under her bed at some.
Okay, Flint's dad scares the living crap out of me!
xxx
3 days later
Flint lay awake in his bed in his lab. He hadn't done much because he was still recovering from a cold. But he was thinking about his failed invention.
Maybe I'll always fail at everything I try. Maybe I was never meant to be an inventor. I'm sorry Mom. I'm sorry if I failed you...
THUNK
Flint sat up. "What the..."
THUNK
"What is that?" Flint asked himself. He sat up, still a bit dizzy from the cold. Slowly, he stood up and made his way to the window.
He opened the window and looked down to find Emma, holding some rocks and looking very excited.
"What is it Emma? It's 2 in the morning!" exclaimed Flint, yawning.
"I need you to see something! It's really important!" Emma exclaimed. She didn't look tired at all.
Flint sighed and went back inside. He slipped a pair of sweatpants over his pajama bottoms, and he zipped himself up in a hoodie jacket. He sluggishly walked over to the mag-vator and climbed in.
The second he opened the door, he was greeted with a smiling Emma. "Flint I cannot wait for you to see this!"
Up close, Flint could see that Emma had some cuts on her arms and face. "How'd you get those cuts?"
"Running through the forest will do that," she said. "Now c'mon!" She grabbed Flint's hand and began pulling him towards the forest.
After a while of walking, Flint needed to know something. "Why were you running through the forest?"
"To get to your house, duh!" she exclaimed. "Plus, I'm a bit of an insomniac, so I usually come out here at night."
"Yeah, I'm kind of an insomniac too. So... what is it you wanted me to see?"
"Here!"
Flint looked around the clearing. "But this is just my other lab."
"But look!"
Flint looked at his lab for a minute before noticing something: there was something sitting on top of his lab.
Quickly, Flint climbed up onto the ledge and scrambled up on top of his lab. What he found absolutely melted his heart.
A baby monkey with brown fur and big, bright orange eyes stared up at Flint.
"Hey little guy," crooned Flint, gently picking up the monkey. The poor little monkey winced and grabbed it's left leg. Looking closely, Flint saw that the monkey's left leg was bent at an odd angle, probably broken. "...just like me..."
The little monkey looked up at Flint differently; it looked at Flint as if he knew that Flint could help him.
Flint gently slid down from the top of his lab. He stood next to Emma on the ground.
"What's wrong with him?" she asked.
"His leg is broken," said Flint.
"Are you gonna keep him?" asked Emma.
"I dunno. I'll probably take care of him until his leg heals, then I'll let him go," said Flint.
"Well, we should at least give him a name. What are you gonna call him?"
Flint thought for a moment. "I'll name him Steve. It's short, simple, and it'll be easy for him to remember."
Steve smiled and fell asleep, snuggled in Flint's arms.
A/N: ENTER STEVE! So, what did you think? Here's a question: would you be scared if Tim pulled "the Eyebrow" at you? Oh, and just in case you were wondering, Flint's best stroke on the swim team was the butterfly stroke, and that's the hardest one to do! =D