"Hurry up and get into the Tour-a-mobile, Maggie," Uncle Trevor said as the four-row vehicle pulled up in front of the hotel. Aunt Maggie found a seat in a middle row, and Gran and Gramps sat in the back with Billie-Jo and I.
The driver tooted the horn and we drove off, speeding through street damp with the fog, and glistening under the streetlights. The air seemed yellow and Smokey but it cleared as we sped past the elevated trolley way.
Suddenly, looming through the clouds and smoke I saw it. The meganopter hovered over the harbour, but even at the distance of a mile we could feel the air stir under its might wings.
"Oh, Lord!" Aunt Maggie said, lifting her hand to her mouth in disbelief.
"The wonder of the age," Uncle Trevor said. "Just 48 hours by air to Japan." Granpa shook his head.
"If God had intended man to fly, we'd have been born with wings!" he said, shaking his head.
"How does it stay up?" Billy-Jo asked. I wondered to, and was glad she asked. I wondered too.
I glanced up and saw people in the windows, looking down at us and waving their hands.
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