The Winner Loses
by Alan Bagnall
Gliders. Not marbles. Not stickers. Not skateboards. Gliders. Gliders were the rage.
We all made gliders ... balsa wood, craft knives, glue, tissue paper, trials, maiden flights, and crashes.
Then redesigning, rebuilding, and more trial flights. Our constructions became quite competitive. Tony bought a glider from the model shop. "The most expensive model in the shop!" he boasted. "It's got hi-tech plastic struts."
So? So? Mine had hi-tech plastic, too. I used a skinny plastic detergent bottle for the fuselage, built on with layers of pastel tissue paper.
Mine was a bi-plane - a modern Tiger Moth. Tiger Moths are super gliders.
In the end, after many trial flights and crashes, it was between Tony and me. Whose glider would glide the farthest? "Tiger Moth Tere" or "Spitfire Tony"? Whose glider would make the longest flight? The longest flight wins!
So after tea we all went up to that new housing subdivision, "Panorama Heights". There were no houses there then - only yellow, bulldozed clay.
The sun set. Our sky glowed a wise, greenish gold.
Tony carried his Spitfire. Miri and Tania carried my Tiger Moth. Not that it weighed anything at all.
It wants to lift off!" Miri chuckled. "I'm holding it down!"
"Five ... four ... three ... two ... one ... zero!" Neil called.
"Take off!"
And we launched our gliders into the clear, ringing golden evening.
Tony's Spitfire swooped down the slope, then rose steeply, catching the slightest breeze. His friends cheered.
My friends sighed. The Tiger Moth drifted sideways down the slope.
"It will catch the fence!" I held my breath.
It drifted through the fence where the wires were broken.
"Disaster! Spitfire's crashed! Hit a gorse bush!"
On and on drifted the Tiger Moth in its hesitant, sideways sort of flight. Over the gorse. Down over the near hills. Down over the farther hills. Down over the farthest hills. Down towards the sea.
"It's going to fly around the world, Tere! It's going to glide around the world!"
Tony ambled down to collect his Spitfire from the gorse bush.
"You've won, Tere!"
"You're the winner, Tere!"
"Tiger Moth wins!
"But you've lost the Tiger Moth!" Tony shouted. "It's gone! Gone! Gone! Gone forever!"
But I hardly heard. I was with my glider, flying down through the haze of the sunken sun. Then down through that haze, down to the sea.