The Race

wind, and floated to the grass.
“Labor?” gasped Whiteway.
“Bricklayers, masons, plasterers, and locomotive firemen.”
“Unionists won my race?”
“Tell your readers they worked for it.”
MARION AND ARCHIE AND LILLIAN crowded around while Andy and Danielle helped Isaac Bell refuel his flying machine. Andy assured him it was still sound despite a few bullet holes, repeating, “Danielle’s oldman builta heck of a strongmachine, didn’the, Danny?”
“Elastico!” said Danielle, bathing Andy and Bell with her dazzling smile. “You did him proud, both of you.”
“Your father made it easy for us,” answered Isaac Bell.
Then he turned to Marion Morgan and took her hand.
“I promised you a ride.”
Marion squeezed into the nacelle behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Andy spun the propeller, and Bell raced up from the grass. The Eagle climbed quickly in the heavy sea air.
High above the blue waters of San Francisco Bay, Isaac Bell blipped off the motor.
When the only sound was the wind sighing in the stays, he turned around and kissed her.
“My darling, we are not going back down until we set a wedding date.”
Marion kissed him back. Her eyes roamed the blue bays, the green peninsulas, and the sun descending from scarlet clouds into the immensity of the Pacific Ocean. She kissed him again and leaned forward to lay her head on his shoulder.
“This is so beautiful,” she said. “Let’s stay up forever.”