Page 58 of Darling Beasts

“Are we still a go?” Brody called out. The crew was packing up the second balloon.

“Might as well,” Ozzie said. “It’s paid for and we’re here.”

Raj, whose face was almost green, said he’d stay behind. Talia wanted to join him, but Gabby gave her a look, and now the three Gunns were stamping across weeds and rocks, toward a rainbow-striped balloon. Honestly, Ozzie had expected something less basic, like a whale or a dolphin, or Mickey Mouse at the very least. That’s what an online coupon got you, he supposed. Welcome to life as a discount shopper.

“Why, Ozzie?” Talia said. “Why hot-air ballooning?”

“It’s very Southern California! I was attempting to be creative.”

Brody flicked on an incredibly loud machine. It was the cold inflation part of the process, he explained, which got things started.

“This is our balloonist,” Ozzie said over the thrum of the machine. “Brody.”

“Pilot,” Brody corrected him, and then went literally inside the balloon to check on things.

“This is wild,” Gabby said, unlocking her phone. “How does hot-air ballooning even work?”

As Grabby scrolled, Brody walked back out. He switched to hot inflation, which involved shooting fire directly into the balloon. Crew members held the basket on the ground as the balloon began to rise.

“Oh, God,” Gabby said, swiping down her screen. “Yikes. Did not need to know that.” She slid the phone back into her jeans.

“Hold on.” Talia’s eyes landed on Ozzie. “Something occurred to me. There’s a balloon inWinnie the Pooh, isn’t there? I can picture him holding it. Oh my God. You’re really out here making us reenactWinnie the Pooh.”

“That balloon was forhoney,” Ozzie said.

“Did he use it for transportation, yes or no?”

“Yes. Until Christopher Robin shot it with a gun.”

“He had a gun?” Gabby said. “Wow. Dark.”

Ozzie rolled his eyes. There were much darker aspects to Christopher Robin, like the fact he was based on A. A. Milne’s son, who notoriously hated it. My father had got where he was by climbing on my infant shoulders, he told a reporter. Theauthor filched his good nameand left himnothing but empty fame. Empty fame. Relatable.

“Christopher Robin always carried a gun,” Ozzie informed his sisters. “You should understand the lore before relating it to things.”

Talia shook her head. “Hope no one shoots ours.”

“There wasn’t a basket involved, okay? He was holding on to the balloon. Like this.” Ozzie stretched his arms overhead. “Then he got stuck like that for a week.”

“Oh my God.” Talia barked out a laugh. She waved a hand in front of her face like she was wafting away a bad smell. “I just... I can’t.”

“Okay, guys,” one of the crew members said. “Time to jump in.”

The Gunns froze. They all traded looks, each one silently daring someone else to move.

“We don’t have all day.” Brody hopped in.

Gabby went next, leaping deftly over the side of the basket. A crew member assisted Talia, and finally it was Ozzie’s turn. He attempted a one-handed sideways deal, something a skateboarder might do, but didn’t clear the rim.

“Not a great sign,” Talia said, peeking over the basket to where Ozzie lay splayed on the ground.

“I’m not the one steering it,” Ozzie said and tried again, the crew helping him this time.

“You don’t steer a hot-air balloon,” Brody pointed out. “You go with the wind. It’s more of an art than a science.”

“Terrific!” Talia sang. “Love that for us!”

“What an adventure,” Gabby said.

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