"I still don't see why we couldn't have used one of your corporate boxes, Uncle Scrooge," Dewey said as he squeezed his way into the seats.
Launchpad waited to let him slide past, then he let through Della, and then Penny. He'd invited Penny at the last minute. She'd enjoy the airshow; it was something new. And, despite having both Dewey and Della there for him, he wanted her there as back up too.
"Too expensive," said Scrooge, as he sat down heavily and wiggled his rump into the plastic chair.
Launchpad sat on the end of the row, his broad shoulder bumping into the solid muscle of Penny's. There wasn't a heap of room between them, but being on the end wasn't bad. The seats weren't either. The view of the airfield was good, and they weren't too close to the front, which would have made Launchpad nervous. Being trapped in a box if he suddenly decided he wanted to leave may have made him nervous too. The end of the row was definitely the best bet.
"Too expensive?" Dewey baulked. "You. Own. Them."
"Aye," said Scrooge. "But if we took over one, I wouldn't be getting the insane profits from the idiot businessmen who have hired it out. They're going to spend the whole airshow ignoring the planes anyway, but they may as well be paying me whilst they do it. Besides, I like the atmosphere in the stands better." His eyes widened, and he shot up, fist raised. "Hey! Down in front! Yeah, I'm talking to you, you ham-headed hooligan. Some of us would like to see!" He hurled a wad of popcorn, then sat back down contentedly.
Launchpad could feel his heartbeat pick up as the murmur of people talking and aeroplanes buzzing overhead thrummed in his ribcage. He was nervous, yeah, but it wasn't just that. Airshows were, well, there were so many aeroplanes. Scrooge was right about the atmosphere. This was exciting.
"Welcome!" The announcer's voice boomed out. The stage set up below the stands, with room for aeroplanes to taxi in front of it, was a little far away, and Launchpad couldn't make out details. But a big screen was set up behind it, displaying an image of the pig that thrust his arms wide as he welcomed the airshow goers. "Welcome, to the Duckburg annual airshow. We have…"
Launchpad drew in a quick breath. He recognised this man. Gasolini. His father's old manager. He had aged and gained a bit of weight. Mom had never liked him, and though Launchpad had never met him properly - only seen him up close that day on the airfield, when he'd stolen the plane - he kind of agreed with her. At the very least, he had kept Launchpad's dad away from him.
Launchpad gulped and settled back into his seat. Man, he was on edge and seeing Gasolini running the show did not help. He tried to focus as the first planes took to the air, rolling out stunts and trailing coloured smoke to the crowd's gasps.
"And next up," Gasolini announced. "Loopey McQuack."
Launchpad stiffened as a pink aeroplane rolled into the air effortlessly, then streaked down close, closer than all the others towards the crowd. That drew a gasp. Launchpad felt his heart pounding as she cleared. Not from the closeness of the aeroplane. Heck, Launchpad had flown close to cliffs like that plenty of times. But he'd never do it to a crowd of people. Mainly because half of those times, he'd knocked heaps of small rocks, trees, and at least one poor squirrel flying.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Launchpad snapped out of his stupor to find Penny gripping his arm. Beyond her, Dewey and Della were staring at Loopey's plane, wide-eyed, as it wound its way effortlessly through the hoops set up around the airfield. That made Launchpad's heart sink a little. He'd at least wanted Dewey to ask how seeing his sister might make him feel. But he could hardly blame them for being distracted by Loopey's graceful stunts.
"I can feel you stiff as a board next to me, you know. I was asking if any of those manoeuvers had any battle significance."
Launchpad stared at her blankly. "I'm… I'm fine. I think they're just supposed to be pretty." He gulped and turned his attention back to the airshow.
"And now," Gasolini announced, "we have what you've all been waiting for, Scrooge McDuck's new cargo plane. Which is far more interesting than it sounds. Trust me."
It looked like it should've roared in like a jet engine. Instead, the enormous grey beast was suddenly there. It shot in like a fat arrow, the crowd gasped, and then with a flip of its wings, it stopped on a dime. It loomed over the airfield like an alien spacecraft. Amid the awed silence, its engines purred with a steady hum.
If Penny was still staring at him, Launchpad wouldn't know. His jaw dropped. "She's beautiful." Unpainted, the beast hovered. Its belly was almost completely separated from the wings, a sphere suspended in its middle. The wingtips rocked up and down, moving around the big belly. Launchpad could not tell how they were attached. The air about the plane shimmered around the engines, which also moved relative to the wings. Wow. He couldn't even see where the spinny things were.
The big plane reversed and moved through the hoop course that Loopey had just finished. It was far too big to fit through the actual rings but instead swung from side to side and swooped its way around them, backwards. How the heck was the pilot doing that? Launchpad felt a stab of jealousy in his gut. He'd never be able to fly a plane like that.
Finished the course, albeit rather slowly, the cargo plane pilot seemed to decide that they would demonstrate that on top of being manoeuvrable, the plane was far from a lumbering beast. The engines let out a beat that sent a pressure wave sweeping out through the crowd. It shot straight up into the atmosphere, executed a series of loops of its spinning wings around its own axis, then plummeted straight back down.
"Er," said Gasolini, who looked up with a gulp, "You can pull up any time you're ready, oh sh…" He held his hands above his head protectively.
The plane stopped, right above the stage. It swung low over Gasolini, so he actually had to move out of the way and duck, then parked, nose first, in line with the steps leading up onto the stage.
Gasoline squared his shoulders with a grunt and moved back to centre stage. "And that's not the only surprise we have for you folks. He can't fly a real stunt plane anymore, but apparently, that's not going to stop him bloody showing off. He was headed straight to the top, and losing him was the biggest disappointment of my career…" Gasolini swept a hand towards the plane.
The cockpit opened in the smooth fuselage, and out stepped…
"Ripcord Mcquaack!"
The crowd went wild. Everyone shot to their feet, and Launchpad couldn't see. And worse, he couldn't move from his seat. His throat constricted, and everything became a wall of white noise engulfing him.
"Launchpad," Penny's voice finally became clear as the din started to die down, as she leaned into his ear and almost screamed. "Who's Ripcord McQuack?"
Launchpad's beak worked, but he couldn't respond. She wouldn't have heard him anyway. Those in front of them sat down, and Launchpad finally saw his father, looming larger than life across the big screen.
"Okay, everybody, calm down." Ripcord's voice rang out across the airfield. "Thought you'd all like a little surprise. Ya know, on top of the ridiculously awesome aeroplane designed by my wife and love of my life, Birdie McQuack."
"Does that explain what that contraption on your head is?" Gasolini asked.
Ripcord pulled off the goggles that sat over his head. They were a fair bit bulkier than what a standard set of aviator's goggles might be. And the state-of-the-art cargo plane didn't seem the type of plane you'd need to wear them on. "Some engineering thing," Ripcord grinned. "Birdie wanted to tweak a few things, so it helps to be able to see exactly what I'm doing. But, to be honest," he said, turning conspiratorially towards the crowd. "I think she just wanted to make sure I didn't scratch her baby."
"So, what, a leash, am I right?" Gasolini snorted.
"It's not…"
"But this plane…" and Gasolini turned away from him and swept a hand towards the beast beside them. "Designed for McDuck industries, right? It's a beauty, isn't it? Your wife designed that all by herself then?"
"Of course not. She managed an entire project team. All by herself."
"That must be great. Folks, this guy got away from me…" Gasolini put a hand on Ripcord's shoulder. "He used to be my best pilot. Now, his wife seems to be the one managing him, if you know what I mean."
Ripcord angled his shoulder away, shifting from Gasolini's touch. "And I couldn't be happier, but…" and he moved in front of Gasolini, which didn't seem to bother the crowd one bit, although Gasolini frowned. "That doesn't mean I still haven't got it." And he gave the crowd a wink, which drew more than a few catcalls. "Of course, it helps to have such a nice plane - which will help McDuck Industries deliver all its stuff to you four times as fast as its competitors. I'm contractually obligated to say that, by the way. Not that that's the worse contract I've had."
"Launchpad…" Penny's voice finally made it through to him as she squeezed his arm in her vice-like grip. "Are you alright?"
"I'm sorry, I need to go." She'd freed him from the stupor that had taken hold since his father had stepped from that cockpit. He'd thank her for it later. Launchpad jerked his arm back and stood.
"Wait, Launchpad! Don't go!" Della stood to her feet too, then all but fell into Penny's lap.
Dewey looked between him and stage and back, and he could not seem to decide where his gaze should settle. "Wait… McQuack… is he…"
"I need to go… sorry!" Launchpad barreled past a woman carrying popcorn and headed for the exit.
Where was the exit?
Why was his dad here?
Launchpad's breath came in short gasps, and he had not worn himself out in his flight just yet. He had to get out of here! His dad couldn't see him; he wouldn't want to see him. And Launchpad didn't want to see him either.
When his parents had actually called, it had been Mom who had spoken to him. It had always been brief. Launchpad had always found an excuse that he had to do something before she could talk to him for long, or ask when they could see him, or Dad could get to the phone.
Dad probably hadn't wanted to talk to him.
Launchpad finally found the green exit sign and stairs at the back of the stands. He could still hear his father's voice booming, and then the crowd cheering, and it pressed in on him, a wall of noise that he had to escape. Launchpad hit the ground, saw the exit. He was nearly there. He just had to get back to Mr McDee's garage. Then he'd be safe.
"Launchpad?"
The voice was familiar, if not as he remembered. Launchpad jerked to a halt and turned around.
"Launchpad, it is you!" Loopey stood at the end of the corridor that led onto the airfield, dressed in a pink aviator jacket, a pink that matched her plane carrying through to a streak in her hair. She grinned and then ran for him.
All Launchpad could do was stand there. And then his little sister barreled into him and threw her arms around his neck. She hung off him, feet sweeping off the floor. "I haven't seen you in so long and…." She released him, and stepped back. "Sorry. I should've asked if I could hug…"
Launchpad threw his arms around her. "Aw, Loopey," he said, as the knot in his throat finally released. "I'm so sorry I bailed on you."
"Launchpad, that's not… hey, it's so good to see you. I didn't even know you were coming to airshows."
"It's my first one," Launchpad said shakily, and the admission made a tiny knot form in his gut. His dad had been a stunt pilot. And this was the first airshow he'd been to. Ever. He pushed it down. "I saw you flying. You're really good. I mean, I have flown close to stuff like that in the Sunchaser. But I usually hit it, so I don't think it's the same."
Loopey giggled. "Heck, I can show you how to not hit stuff if you really want. This is going to be so great. Mom and Dad are here, and it'll be just like old times and…"
His parents! For a moment, Launchpad had actually forgotten. "Can we go somewhere else? I just need to…"
"Launchpad!" Birdie jogged down the stairs.
Launchpad gulped. At the same time, he felt something inside him reach out for her. Birdie slowed as she got to him and smiled. "Hey, sweetheart. Fancy… fancy seeing you here." She reached out for him, then stopped, just short of his hand.
Launchpad couldn't help himself. He took her hand in his. "Hey, Mom. It's good to see you." And it wasn't a lie. He'd put this off for weeks, but maybe, just maybe…
"Hey, son." Ripcord arrived, followed by Dewey and Della. He smiled at him, gave him a little wave, but didn't approach.
Launchpad drew his hand back from his mother and stepped back. In the confines of the exit from the stands, he could feel his throat constricting again, though it wasn't as bad as before. "Mom… Dad… what are you both doing here?"
"Mr McDuck's aeroplane, sweetheart," said Birdie. "I built it, and your father's flying it."
"Yeah," said Ripcord. "Hey, but we're all here now. It's great to see you, son."
"But how'd you know I'd be here?"
Birdie lowered her gaze.
Ripcord forced a smile. "We didn't. We just…"
"Just came to fly Mr McDee's plane." Launchpad's head spun, and, somehow, amidst all the chaos and churning, he felt something click into place. "You were flying Mr McDee's plane! Of course you knew I'd be here… I…" They'd wanted him to see them for weeks. And as the last bit of the puzzle clunkily clicked into place, Launchpad's heart sunk.
He turned to Dewey. "You knew, didn't you?"
"Huh?" Dewey looked between everyone, in what had to be mock bewilderment, and his friend's last-ditch effort to shift the blame somehow hurt even more. "Knew what?"
"You knew Mom and Dad would be here. That's why you wanted me to come to the airshow with you. Even after everything I told you in the garage… you set me up!"
Dewey blinked at him. "Wait, what?"
"Woah, slow down," Della stepped in front of Dewey. "LP, I'm sorry. You're right. We set this up. But don't blame Dewey. He had nothing to do with it."
"I don't. This is your fault!" Launchpad jabbed a finger at his father. "And… and you…" he added, but lowered his hand and his gaze as he turned to his mom. "I told you guys, I wasn't ready to see you yet. But you don't listen."
"Launchpad, I'm sorry," said Birdie. "We just didn't know when you'd be ready. We didn't know what else to do and…."
"We just want to be a family again," said Ripcord. "You can't keep pushing us away."
"Just leave me alone! It wasn't hard for you when I was a kid. It shouldn't be hard for you now!" Launchpad turned on his heel and stormed out of the stands without looking back.
Della found Dewey at one of the tables spread out around the assortment of food trucks parked up for the airshow. Most were empty, as the airshow was still going on, Gasolini's voice booming out, accompanied by the roar of planes every few minutes tearing by overhead.
A couple tables away, Birdie sat, focused on the glow of her tablet screen. She'd disappeared after Launchpad had bailed. So this is where she had ended up. Working, apparently. Della couldn't imagine how; she knew she couldn't focus like that if she'd got in a fight with one of her boys. For the moment, she couldn't decide whether she should check she was okay or yell at her for talking her into lying to Launchpad. She didn't need to decide now. First, she had to take care of her son.
Della slipped into the chair opposite Dewey and pushed across the drink she'd procured from the coffee van. Dewey eyed the chocolate cream topped offering with suspicion. He pulled the straw towards him, and took a sip. His eyes widened. "Woah. What's in this?"
"Shot of coffee. Figured you needed something a little stronger than just chocolate."
Dewey sucked on the straw again, screwing up his face, then pushed it away with a sigh. "Mom, what happened? I just wanted Launchpad to come to the airshow with me. And now he's yelling at me because his parents turned up. I don't understand. How is that my fault?"
Della squeezed her son's arm, bringing the tumble of words to a halt. "Sweetheart, it's not your fault. It's mine. I knew his mom and dad were here, and they asked me to talk him into coming. You just…" she shrugged. "You somehow managed to convince him to come to the airshow first. So I didn't say anything; I just let him come. I'm sorry."
Dewey pulled his arm back to grasp his hands around his mocha glass, like that'd been all he'd been trying to do. Not pull away from his mother. Della's heart still sank. "So he thinks I tricked him?"
"We weren't tricking him. We didn't actually lie."
"You knew they'd be there. You knew he wouldn't like it. It's the same thing. Do you know what we were talking about in the hanger before you came in? Launchpad's parents. And how he left home because of his dad. He hardly ever talks about his family. Even to me. But he opened up, and he was so scared of seeing them again, and that it made him afraid of going to airshows and… but then I talked him into coming. Because I thought it would be fun for him because he likes planes and he shouldn't let his family spoil that for him.
"That's what he was dealing with, Mom. And you just threw him under the bus. And he thinks… he thinks after he told me all that, that it was me who tricked him." Dewey's voice caught, and he dropped his head onto his folded arms.
Della squeezed her eyes shut. It had felt wrong to start with. Dewey had every right to chew her out. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drag you into this. I think we need to give Launchpad a chance to be by himself for a little bit. But I'll message him, okay? I'll let him know this was all me, and you had nothing to do with it."
Dewey sniffed and lifted his head. "What if he thinks you're just covering for me?"
"You're his best friend. He knows you'd never hurt him like that. Once he has a chance to cool down, and I tell him, he'll realise you wouldn't. It'll be okay."
Dewey finally smiled up at her. "Thanks, Mom. But you gotta promise to apologise to him too. He was really upset. I mean, he yelled at me."
"I will. Promise." Della pushed the glass towards him. "Now go on. Go enjoy the airshow. Don't worry about Launchpad. Next time he sees you, he'll know you didn't…" her shoulders slumped. "Screw him over. Aw man, what was I thinking."
Dewey got up, drink in hand, and hugged her with his free arm. "He'll forgive you, Mom. You know how he is. Just tell me after you talk to him? So I can call or message him or something and make sure he's okay?"
"Okay."
Dewey headed off between the tables.
"Oh, hey! Don't tell your brothers I let you have coffee!" Della winced. Hopefully, that had not been a mistake. With any luck, with all the excitement of the airshow, he'd burn it off.
"You're really good with him." Birdie looked over her tablet at her with a small smile. Della had almost forgotten she was there. How much had she overheard of what Dewey said? "I'm sorry I asked you to lie to Launchpad. I just… well, you're really good with your son. I just thought you should know that."
Della pulled her chair over and sat down. "I'm not mad at you. I get if you haven't seen your kid for a really long time… you'd do anything."
"You were stuck on the moon, weren't you?"
"Yeah… you…"
Birdie smiled at her. "I know you were excited to meet my husband. But I kind of wanted to meet you too. Admittedly, for putting back together a rocket ship with no training but…" She put the tablet down on the table. "… also, it took you ten years. I'd ask what kept you going. But I already knew the answer."
"My boys."
"Yeah. You got all the way back from the moon." Birdie swallowed hard. "I worked less than an hour away, and I couldn't even get home most nights in time to cook my son a decent dinner."
"Hey, I'm sure you had some good reasons…"
Birdie drew in a breath and looked her dead in the eye. "One night," she said, riding right over the top of Della's words, "I worked late. And I'd left Launchpad at home to take care of himself. All he had was a cold. When I got home, I had to take him to the hospital because he was so dehydrated. He hadn't thought to get up and get water, or he was too tired, and if I'd been there I…" Her eyes sparkled with tears, but she kept Della's gaze. 'Go on' the look seemed to say, 'tell me I'm a bad mother'. Like she was waiting for it.
And you know what, Della thought, there is no way in hell I'm doing that. "When I got back from the moon," she said instead. "I had one of my boys sick because I fed them enough birthday cake to make up for everything I'd missed. I gave one temporary hearing loss. And that was all within a day of getting home. Stuff happens."
Some of the tension left Birdie's shoulders. "Sorry. When I went looking for Launchpad, after he ran away from home, the way some people were when you told them your kid had run away, that you were looking for him. I wanted their help, not their judgment. Even before that, because I worked so much… Guess I kind of expect it sometimes."
Launchpad had run away from home. That thought made Della's guts tighten. "Did Ripcord… did he help look when Launchpad left?"
"No. Ripcord made a lot of mistakes. But that wasn't one of them. He would've been out there with me. But he wasn't in any sort of place for that. You know, stuff from the crash…" Birdie pulled her tablet towards her and watched its brightly coloured model spinning on the screen. "Sometimes, I think I understand all these numbers more than my own kids. I just… Ripcord couldn't always be there. And we needed the money."
"Wait, but he was a famous pilot. And the stuff you do is cool. That means you get paid a lot, right?"
Birdie snorted. "I do now. Not so much when I started out and Ripcord - stupid young starry-eyed Rip - he signed up with Gasolini, didn't he? He signed the shittiest contract. He just wanted to be in a plane so bad, he didn't even try to negotiate. He'd never admit it, but I think he was scared he'd miss out. If he'd waited, I don't know, six months or something, someone… someone a lot less… toxic… would've grabbed him up in a hot minute. I was so mad at him. But not anymore.
"Because I did the same thing. I was pushing my career along as well. And you know what the silly thing is? If we'd both tried to help each other out, instead of fighting like it was a competition and the other would take away what we wanted if we let them, we both could have had it. It would've taken a bit longer, but then we could've been there for Launchpad as well."
"He hasn't said much about you guys. But from what he has told me, he does want to talk to you again. I think he's scared."
Birdie smiled faintly. "I should've asked you to talk to him. Not lie to him. He has spoken about you when he's messaged. Keeps telling us what a good pilot you are and that you've been teaching him stuff. I think he admires you."
Della flushed. "What… really?" Yeah, her and Launchpad's relationship had improved. But they still fought a lot over maintenance, and they'd definitely got in a huff with each other over a lot of things, especially when it came to the Sunchaser.
"We just want to do right by him. Now we're older, and we've sorted out everything that was going on when he was small. Still, we shouldn't have waited this long. I want a relationship with my son again. I'm just scared it's too late."
A/n: Sorry Dewey. You kind of got caught in the crossfire.
Scrooge is just plain fun to write. I love him.
Please leave me a review! :)