Crispin woke and looked up at Charlie. "Why don't you lock them up, Charlie? We can't ever fly the Fox if they . . . I'm afraid to go up there in the sky with them there. Why can't you lock them up?"
"Sure, we'll just put them in the Skrimville jail," Charlie said. But something began to nag at him. Something Rory had said. He scowled at Rory, trying to remember. They had been talking about Rory's trip. Rory had said it would be just like the starlings to stop them from taking off. He had said— that was it! "You said it, Rory! You said what to do with them!"
"What, sonny? What did I say?"
"You said"—Charlie gulped with excitement— "you said, 'Wish we could lock every one in the hangar . . .' "
"Well I guess I did, sonny. But I don't—" Rory broke off and stared at Charlie. "The big hangar! Is that what you mean, sonny? The big hangar at the airfield?" '
"That's exactly what I mean."
There was a long silence while everyone thought about that. At last Rory said, "It's crazy, sonny. It's too crazy to think about."
"Is it?" Charlie asked.
Rory began to pace, twirling the end of his tail. He began to get interested in the idea. He looked out into the dump and up onto the roof of the hangar. There were no starlings listening. Some minutes later they heard the flock flap noisily out from town. "If you could get those starlings to go into the big hangar, sonny," Rory said softly. "If you could get them to want to go in . . ."
"They came in here when it rained," Crispin said.
"The youngster's right," Rory said. "And a rainstorm's headed this way, a real doozy, the radio says. Would those birds go into the big hangar the same way they came in here? If they thought you didn't want them there ..."
"They always crowd around the lights in town," Charlie said. "Maybe because it's warm there. We could turn the lights on in the hangar when it starts to rain . . ."
"And if you could make them think you didn't want them," Rory repeated, "if you could put up some kind of barricade that looked like you wanted to keep them out . . ."
"We could hang canvas drop cloths," Charlie said. "We could leave them loose, and not cover the whole door."
"And then, when they were all in, slammo, you shut the hangar door and you've got yourself a whole mess of starlings."
"And the drop clothes would keep them from getting out so fast while we were closing the doors."
"Oh my," Crispin said. "Then what will you do with them, Charlie? What will you do with them after you've trapped them all?"
Charlie and Rory looked at each other. What could you do with a hangar full of starlings?"
"Well at least they'd be out of the way," Charlie said. "They couldn't bother anyone. Except—except, my dad still couldn't open his repair shop."
"Yeah, sonny. It's your dad's hangar they'd be trapped in."
"I'll have to call him," Charlie said.
"What will he say, sonny?"
"I don't know. My gosh, Rory, I never thought of that."
CHAPTER 19
Charlie made the phone call from his dad's bedroom. Though he didn't think he had to worry about Mrs. Critch prying, she'd been so nice and thoughtful lately. As Rory said, "Don't worry about what's wrong with her, sonny. Just enjoy it while you can. You don't get a break like that every day."
His dad was staying in a boarding house and had to be called to the phone. "Is that you, Charlie?" "Yeah, Dad, it's me." "I was going to call you. You okay?" "Sure. What were you going to call about?" "You first."
"Well, okay. See, I had this idea about how to get rid of the starlings. But I need your permission. I found out they like to get in under shelter when it rains. And they like electric lights, because they're always snuggling up to them in town. Well, there's a rain storm due, and I thought—well, if we could move the planes out of the repair hangar and turn on the lights and open the hangar door, I think we could trap them in there."
"What? Trap that flock of dirty birds in my nice, clean hangar?"
"Well, Dad, I—"
"And shut the hangar door with them inside?"
"Well, I—"
"Wow, Charlie! I think you've hit on something!"
"You mean you like the idea?"
"Like it? It's crazy. It's wonderful. But Charlie?"
"Yes, Dad?"
"What're you going to do with them after you catch them?"
"Well see, Dad, that's the rub. I don't know. Only —well, they'd be in there. We're bound to think of something."
"Can you get anyone to help you get the planes out?"
"I think so."
"Put them around back as far from where those starlings will be flying as you can. And cover that little skyhawk, it has its cowling off."
"Yes, I will, Dad. Wow! You like the idea!"
"Sure I like it, what did you think? But you'd better be thinking hard about what to do afterward. You can't shoot them in there, Charlie. The hangar would be a sieve."
"I know."
"Besides, there's something sneaky and unfair about shooting anything in an enclosed place, even starlings. And you . . . well, I'll leave it to you, Charlie. Sounds like you're onto something. Oh boy, my poor hangar. It'll look like a snowstorm hit it. Better get as much stuff into the office as you can, where it'll stay clean."
"Yes sir, I will. Engine parts and tools. We can hose the hangar down afterward. I'll go talk to the mayor. If you think of anything to do with the starlings when we've caught 'em, call me back, huh, Dad? And what were you going to call me about?"
"There's an air show up here in Allensville next weekend. They've asked me to serve as mechanic. I thought I'd run down and get you, if you'd like to go. Or you could take the train up."
"Well—well, yeah, Dad, I would like to," Charlie said hesitantly. Usually, there would be nothing he'd like better. But now . . . "If the starlings are all taken care of," Charlie said; and he thought, If Rory and Crispin get off on their cross-country all right. "Yeah, Dad, can I let you know later in the week, depending on the starlings?"
"Sure can. Let me know what happens."
CHAPTER 20
"but Charles, the town's last project to get rid of the starlings didn't work at all and I—"
"Charlie. I know, Mr. Leeper. It bombed out. But maybe this will be different. At least, it's worth a try. It won't be very much work, if we can get a couple of men to help me. And it isn't going to cost anything," Charlie added.
That part appealed to the mayor. A lot of expensive black paint had gone down the drain on the last project. Mayor Leeper considered, scowling down at Charlie. At last he scratched his ear. "All right, Chuck. I'll see what I can do. Maybe . . ."
"Charlie," Charlie corrected. "The pilots of the planes in the hangars would be the best ones to move them and get them tied down." Charlie didn't want a lot of bungling around and damage to the planes.
"You're right, Chet. Do you know any of those pilots?"
"Charlie! Sure, I know them all."
By one o'clock that afternoon every plane had been moved out of the repair hangar and tied down securely behind it. The skyhawk had been covered, and the tools and the engine parts had been moved into the little office, making it pretty crowded in there. According to the radio, the rainstorm was on its way. Already dark clouds were gathering over Skrimville as Charlie and the two pilots hung loose tarps over the hangar door. They left plenty of room between for the starlings to come in. Jerry wasn't much taller than Charlie, a slight, pale-haired man. He held Charlie's ladder while Charlie nailed up one end of a tarp and Joe, on the other ladder, nailed the other end. When they finished they settled down to wait for the rain. Joe and Jerry played poker with some cards from Charlie's dad's desk, and Charlie sat with his feet on the desk, thinking.