THE PAPER PLANE ADVENTURE by CHARLES WALLACE
DEDICATION For my Dad…the best Pop a kid could ever have. Thank you for teaching us that a cardboard box is never just a box.
TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER ONE CARD-BORED? CHAPTER TWO WHAT DO YOU SEE? CHAPTER THREE FLIGHT ONE CHAPTER FOUR A TINY FEATHER CHAPTER FIVE CAPTAIN PIP'S AIRPORT CHAPTER SIX THE LITTLE PROBLEM CHAPTER SEVEN IMAGINATION POWER CHAPTER EIGHT TO PLANET WIZZLEWINK CHAPTER NINE THE CASTLE ON THE HILL CHAPTER TEN WHERE DID THE COLORS GO? CHAPTER ELEVEN HOMEWARD BOUND CHAPTER TWELVE LOOK AGAIN
CHAPTER ONE CARD-BORED? Every adventure begins with one question. Jack dragged his stick through the dirt, making long wiggly lines, while Emma watched a yellow butterfly bounce from flower to flower nearby. When the butterfly finally flew over the fence and disappeared, Emma flopped backward onto the grass and let out the biggest sigh. "I'm bored," Emma said. "Me too," Jack groaned. Pop was sitting in his lawn chair, staring at nothing in particular. "Bored," he said, like he was trying the word out for the first time. "Huh." He got up slowly and walked into the garage without saying where he was going.
A minute later he came back with his arms full of old cardboard boxes — and one even sat crooked on his head. He didn't seem to notice. Jack laughed first. Then Emma. "What?" Pop said. Jack pointed at his head.
Pop reached up, felt the box, and shrugged. "Huh," he said again, like that explained everything. Whump. He dropped the boxes onto the grass. A sheet of white paper slid loose, spun in the wind, and landed right by his boot. Pop looked down at it for a second before he picked it up. His knees cracked. "Ow," he said. “Remind me to oil those creaky knees.” He knelt down eye to eye with Jack and Emma and held the paper out. Pop turned the paper over once, slow and careful, then set it down in the grass beside him. Then he stood, stretched his arms out wide, taking in the whole yard. "What do you see?" Neither of them knew it yet. But everything was about to change.
CHAPTER TWO WHAT DO YOU SEE? Sometimes the biggest adventures begin with the smallest idea. Jack and Emma looked at the pile of cardboard boxes and frowned. "I see boxes," Jack grunted. "I see a mess," Emma said. Pop looked at the boxes, then chuckled. "I see something else." "What?" Jack said. Pop didn't answer right away. He tucked the paper under his arm and nodded at the biggest box. "What do you see if you use your imagination?" Jack walked around the box once, then twice. He tipped his head, squinted one eye, and stopped. "I don't see a box anymore," he said. "I see the biggest castle in the whole world." Pop just nodded, like that settled it.
Emma looked at the next box, and her eyes went wide. "And this one's a planet!" Pop pointed at the blanket flapping on the clothesline. "What about that?" "A fort!" Emma shouted. Jack grabbed a stick and pointed it at a puddle like he was aiming a sword. "That's the ocean." He swung it toward a little dirt mound. "And that's an island." Emma jumped to her feet. "Featherwind Island!" Pop just stood there, arms crossed, the paper still tucked under one arm. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. For the first time all afternoon, nobody was bored.
Pop glanced down at the paper still tucked under his arm — and for just a second, his eyes stayed there.
CHAPTER THREE FLIGHT ONE Every great journey begins with one paper airplane. Pop held the paper and started folding. Fold by fold, it stopped looking like paper and started looking like something else. Jack leaned in close. Emma leaned in closer. "Wowww," she whispered, like she wasn't sure she was allowed to talk yet. When Pop finished, he held it up — a little paper airplane, small enough that Jack wondered for a second if it would even fly at all. "Every airplane needs somewhere to go," Pop said, turning it over once in his hands. "Where's this one headed?"
Jack looked out past the puddle-ocean and his eyes landed on the dirt-mound island they'd already named. "FEATHERWIND ISLAND!" he yelled, pointing at it. Pop went still for a second, rubbing his ears — they were still ringing. "Well, alright then. Featherwind Island it is." He handed the airplane to Jack and stepped back. "Your flight, Captain Jack," he said. "Whenever you're ready." Jack held the little airplane out in front of him. He got a running start. Then threw it.
It caught the wind harder than any of them expected — dipped once, climbed, and sailed straight toward Featherwind Island. "IT'S FLYING!" Emma yelled and took off running after it. Jack stood there watching for a second, then he ran too.
CHAPTER FOUR A TINY FEATHER Sometimes wonderful things arrive quietly. The paper airplane skidded to a stop on the shore of Featherwind Island. Jack and Emma arrived, out of breath, ready to grab it. Something small and feathered was perched on top of it, pushing goggles up on its forehead like this wasn’t unusual at all. "Hmm," the bird said, looking up at them. "May I help you?" Jack and Emma froze.
The little bird hopped off the airplane and straightened his flying cap. A small brown bag hung across his chest — he never flew without it. "Captain Pip Wren," he said, and gave a little bow. "Friends call me Pip." He glanced down at the plane. "Not bad. But I've had better landings." Emma crouched down. "You can talk?" Pip looked at her for a long moment. "That's your first question?" He shook his head. "Not 'why is there a bird on the paper airplane,' not 'how is an island in my backyard.'" "Yes. I can talk." Jack picked up the airplane and looked at Pip, then at Pop, then back at Pip. Pop just crossed his arms and looked at the water. He didn't say a word. "So," Pip said, hopping onto the wing. He did a quick little victory shuffle, wings flapping, and struck a pose. "Where's this thing headed?"
CHAPTER FIVE CAPTAIN PIP'S AIRPORT The smallest friends can have the biggest jobs. "Where's this thing headed?" Pip said again, tapping the wing. Jack looked at Emma. Emma looked at Jack. "We don't know yet," Jack admitted. "Hm." Pip hopped down, brushed some sand off the wing, and walked slowly around the plane, inspecting it. He nodded once, satisfied, and reached into his bag. He pulled out an old wooden stamp. Tap. He pressed it onto the wing.
"Approved for takeoff," Pip announced. Emma giggled. "You really have an airport?" "Oh, yes," Pip said, puffing out his chest. "I'm the head pilot. The airport manager. The mail carrier." He paused. "Also, the chief inspector." Another pause. "And the chef — I make a truly excellent bowl of cereal." Jack laughed. "That's a lot of jobs for one little bird." "Someone has to do them," Pip said, like that settled it. Pop just watched, arms still crossed. Pip stretched one wing toward the long sidewalk. "Welcome to Featherwind Airways. This way, please." Jack and Emma looked where he was pointing. The sidewalk didn't look ordinary anymore. It looked like a runway, waiting for its very next flight. Pip glanced back at them, with one eyebrow raised. "Well? Are you coming?" Pip raised both wings. "Or is this really your first time seeing a bird fly a plane?" He shrugged. "Fair. It's a lot to take in."
CHAPTER SIX THE LITTLE PROBLEM Sometimes the biggest adventures begin with the smallest problems. Pip strutted down the sidewalk-turned-runway, goggles down, chest out, like he was leading a parade. "So," he said. "We're hoping to reach Planet Wizzlewink today." Emma stopped walking. "Planet Sizzlestink?" Jack covered his mouth. "It's Wizzlewink." "That's what I said." Emma giggled. Jack rolled his eyes. "It's really not." Pop just shook his head slowly and kept walking. Pip pushed his goggles back up onto his head and let out a small sigh. "There is, however, one little problem." Jack tilted his head. "What's wrong?" "Getting a paper plane to an island? Easy — all you need is a great pilot. Like me." Pip paused, just long enough to make them lean in. "But to reach another planet... we need imagination power." Jack frowned. "What's imagination power?"
Pip looked from Jack, to Emma, then to the old cardboard box sitting on the runway. "Great question," Pip said. "Terrible time to ask it." He hopped toward the old cardboard box. "Come on. I'll show you instead." He tapped the box. "This part takes imagination," he said. "Looks like nothing — right up until it isn't." Then, without warning, he did a little dance — a quick shuffle, wings flapping, a spin at the end. Jack blinked. "Is that your imagination dance?" "No," Pip said. "I just like to dance."
CHAPTER SEVEN IMAGINATION POWER The greatest adventures begin in your imagination. Pip pointed one wing at all three of them. "Imagination power is something you already have," he said. He nodded at the old cardboard box. "Every great adventure starts the same way. You just have to believe an ordinary thing can be something more." "Close your eyes," Pip said. "Tell me — what do you see?" Jack closed his eyes. He didn't just see the moon — he saw himself already in a puffy white astronaut suit, strapped into the spaceship, blasting off. Emma didn't wait. She was already there — soaring through a field of stars, laughing before Pip had even finished the sentence. Pop didn't say anything. He just looked at the box for a long moment, the way you'd look at something you hadn't seen in a very long time. A warm breeze moved through Featherwind Airways. The box's flaps lifted, just slightly, on their own. "Open your eyes," Pip whispered.
Jack and Emma gasped. It was still a cardboard box. But it was also, somehow, the most wonderful spaceship they had ever seen. Pop reached out and rested his hand on the spaceship. He just stood there for a second, quiet. "Welcome back," he said softly. Not to Jack. Not to Emma. To the box.
CHAPTER EIGHT TO PLANET WIZZLEWINK The greatest adventures begin when you dare to see what waits beyond the clouds. The cardboard spaceship gave a shake like a wet dog. Flaps flapping, it rolled down the runway. BLOP! KERPLUNK! SPROING! Then — WHOOSH — it lifted into the sky. Jack laughed as Featherwind Island shrank below them. Emma pressed her nose flat against the window.
Pip called out. "Wait until you see Wizzlewink." He glanced back at them. Then, without a word, he reached out and pressed a small button on the dashboard. The whole ship lurched forward. Stars streaked past the window in long, bright lines. Jack's stomach dropped. Emma's hair whipped straight back. "Whoops — that's the fast button," Pip said. "Should've warned yas." He pressed it again. The spaceship rattled, roared, and shot forward even harder. "There's a faster one too," Pip said. They flew higher, past soft clouds, into a sky full of stars. Pop didn't say much. He just sat quietly, holding his cap tightly on his head. "There it is," Pip said, pointing one wing ahead.
Far off, a small point of color hung in the dark sky, glowing soft and warm, like a firefly in a jar. As they got closer, it grew bigger. Jack pressed his face to the glass and saw green hills, and mountains shaped like open storybooks, and paper airplanes spiraling lazily upward, never quite flying in a straight line, like the wind up there couldn't decide which way to send them. The little spaceship landed with the softest bump. For a moment, nobody said anything at all. "Welcome to Planet Wizzlewink," Pip said, tipping his goggles up for a better look. "The happiest place I know." Then his smile faded, just a little. "Well. It used to be." Before Jack could ask what he meant, the ground began to bounce. Boing... boing... BOING. Pip hopped down from the ship's hatch — then froze like a popsicle, mid-hop, one wing still half-raised, like someone hit the pause button. He just watched it come, not moving a feather. "Pip?" Jack whispered. "What is that?" For the first time since they'd met him, Captain Pip Wren was speechless.
CHAPTER NINE THE CASTLE ON THE HILL The kindest hearts make the best kings. The giant purple monster skidded to a stop. THUMP! WOBBLE! BOOF! — and the grass shook like a hippo trying to hula-hoop. He was covered in soft thick fur, with two rounded ears that flopped whenever he moved and a tail that seemed to have a mind of its own. He blinked his big green eyes. Then he laughed, and colorful bubbles floated up into the air. Pip let out a long breath and landed on the monster's shoulder, straightening his goggles like he did every single day.
"Oh — sorry, sorry!" the monster said, patting down the grass he'd flattened. "Didn't mean to startle anyone. I'm Gus." He gave an enormous wave, which knocked over a nearby bush. "Sorry about that too." He picked the bush back up and patted it gently. "Come on — the King and Queen have been hoping someone would visit." Jack looked at Pip. Pip just shrugged. "Relax. Big and purple usually means friendly, I guess." They followed Gus along a curving path through the hills. He apologized to a butterfly for walking too close to it. He apologized to a rock for nearly stepping on it. By the third apology, Emma was giggling every time he opened his mouth. Bubble trees floated shiny bubbles overhead. Tiny paper airplanes zipped by, carrying letters and little packages. They crossed a cardboard bridge, and people waved as they passed. Pop didn't say anything. He just walked a little slower than the rest of them, taking it all in. Then Jack looked up — and there it was. A castle stood on the tallest hill, warm stone walls rising into the sky, its towers built from giant folded cardboard. Paper airplanes spiraled around the highest tower, circling upward the way they always did in Wizzlewink — never straight, like the sky itself was still deciding where they should go. The big wooden doors opened before they'd even reached them. A king stepped out, wearing a crown made of leaves. Beside him walked a queen with a crown of flowers. The king knelt down until he was eye to eye with Jack and Emma. He shook Jack's hand gently with both of his.
"Welcome," he said. "I'm King Bramble." "And I'm Queen Marigold," said the queen. Her eyes moved past the children, just for a moment, and settled on Pop. Then she smiled. "It's been a while since anyone found their way here." Gus leaned down and whispered to Jack, "Sorry it took so long to get here, by the way."
CHAPTER TEN WHERE DID THE COLORS GO? Wonder grows when it is shared. Queen Marigold led them through the castle gardens. Some flowers were bright and colorful. Others had faded to gray. The bubble trees made only a few small bubbles, and the paper airplanes sat quietly in the grass instead of flying. "What happened?" Jack asked. King Bramble's smile turned sad. "Nothing is broken," he said. "Wizzlewink is made from wonder. When children imagine, and laugh, and play, our world shines brighter." He paused. "But it's been a long time since we heard happy voices here."
Pop didn't say a word. He bent down, picked up a stick, and held it out to Jack like a sword being passed to a knight. Emma grabbed a stick of her own and swung it high. "My knight's sword!" Jack found a flat stone. "And this is my treasure map!" He squinted at it. "I can't actually read it yet. But it will lead me somewhere." "Sorry — coming through!" Gus said, clapping his big fuzzy hands together and nearly knocking over a garden bench. He caught it just in time and patted it gently. "Sorry, bench." Pip did a happy loop through the air. "Now we're talking." Emma held her stick up high. "Guard the castle, Sir Gus!" Gus straightened up at once, puffing out his furry chest. "Yes, Your Majesty. Nothing gets past me." He struck what was probably meant to be a very serious guard pose — which mostly involved wobbling in place and looking very worried about it. THUMP. He sat down hard in the grass. "Still guarding," he said. Jack pointed. "Look!"
One gray flower slowly filled with color — POOF! A paper airplane started to shake, then ZOOM — it lifted off the ground. More bubbles floated up from the trees, BLOOP, BLOOP, BLOOP. "It's working!" Gus cheered. Soon everyone was pretending together. The little stream became a rushing river. The stepping stones became tiny boats. The clouds became friendly dragons, sailing across the sky. Every laugh brought a little more color back to Wizzlewink. Before long, the gardens were bursting with color, laughter filled the air again, and paper airplanes spiraled upward all around the castle — the way they always had, the way they always would.
Gus and Pip were dancing in the colorful garden. King Bramble stepped out into the garden and stopped. For the first time since they'd arrived, he smiled — a real one. "It's been a long time," he said, "since Wizzlewink looked like this."
CHAPTER ELEVEN HOMEWARD BOUND Every goodbye carries the promise of another adventure. At the spaceship, King Bramble rested a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Thank you," he said. "For bringing the colors back." He glanced at the flowers, then at Jack and Emma. "And you didn't even need a crayon." He shook Pop's hand next. Queen Marigold pulled Emma into one last hug — but as she straightened up, her eyes found Pop's for just a moment before she smiled and looked away. Then Gus wrapped all four of them in the biggest, gentlest hug they'd ever had. SQUISH. "Sorry — is this too tight?" he asked, not loosening his grip at all.
Everyone laughed. Bubbles floated everywhere. "I'm going to miss your bubble hugs," Emma said. Gus grinned. "Then you'll just have to come back." Then, quieter, without a hint of his usual apology: "I'm really glad you found us." Captain Pip climbed through the hatch, reached into his bag, and pulled out his map. "Next stop," he said. "Home." They waved until Wizzlewink shrank behind them, smaller and smaller, until it looked like nothing more than a bright little star.
Stars and planets drifted past the windows as the spaceship sailed on. Jack and Emma pressed their faces to the glass, watching everything go by. Pop watched them for a while. Then he looked down at his own hands, like he was remembering holding a stick just like Jack's, a very long time ago. "You know," he said quietly, "I had a box just like this one. When I was your age." That was all he said. Before long, the blue and green of Earth filled the sky. The spaceship floated down through soft white clouds, and the backyard came into view below — exactly the way they'd left it. It landed softly in the grass, beside the empty cardboard boxes. For a moment, nobody said a word. They were home.
CHAPTER TWELVE LOOK AGAIN Some adventures end... but wonder never does. Jack, Emma, and Pop climbed out of the spaceship into the warm afternoon sun. Pip stepped out behind them and lifted his goggles. "I'd give that landing two wings up," he said. Everyone laughed. Jack pulled him into a hug. "Thanks for everything," Jack said. "Anytime, Captain Jack." Pip walked to his paper airplane, patted his bag once to make sure it was still there, then paused. "One second." He set the bag down, did three quick jumping jacks, and shook out his wings. "Pre-flight stretches. Very important." Then he climbed in and gave one last salute.
"We'll miss you!" Emma called. "Just imagine me," Pip called back, "and I'll be there." He climbed higher, and higher, until he was gone. Jack and Emma looked back toward the yard. The castle was gone. The spaceship was gone. Only the cardboard boxes were left, sitting quietly in the grass. Then they heard a chirp. A small blue bird circled overhead, and a single feather drifted down. Pop reached up and caught it in one hand. He turned it over once, the way he'd turned that first paper airplane over, back before any of this began. "Now," he said quietly. "What do you see?" Jack looked at the boxes. "A castle. With colorful flags." Emma looked too. "A spaceship." Pop looked a moment longer than either of them. "I see a box," he said. "Just like the one I had." He didn't say anything else. He didn't have to. Pop tucked the feather into Jack's shirt pocket, and the three of them stood there quietly, looking at what still looked, to anyone else, like a couple of old cardboard boxes. "And what about now?" Pop asked. "Looking again?" Jack looked at the tallest box. "A big top tent," he said. "With flags on it." Emma looked at the clothesline strung across the yard. "A tightrope," she said. "Way up high." Pop smiled — a small one, just for himself — and put an arm around each of them.
They turned to head inside. But Emma stopped. Tucked in the flower bed, half-hidden behind a bush, stood a small stone statue — a tiny figure in a coat and top hat, one hand raised, one foot up on a stone ball, frozen mid-step. Jack stopped. "Have you ever seen that before?" Emma shook her head. "I don't think so." Pop looked over. "What do you see?" Jack studied it for a long moment. "A ringmaster," he said slowly. He grinned. "Now that’s imagination power." Then the statue's stone eyes blinked. "Step right up, step right up, hurry, HURRY!" a small voice cried out, rushing through every word. "There's no time — the lights go out tonight!"