Benjamin Franklinstein Meets the Fright Brothers Read Free Page B

the size of a picnic cooler, and fancier than most of the furniture in his house. “Nice. Does it still work?”
    â€œNot so much,” said Scott. “I thought I could fix it, but I think I just made it worse.”
    Victor pulled open a small door on the back of the radio. Inside was a tangle of dusty tubes and wires. “What have you tried?”
    â€œAll sorts of things,” said Scott. “I noticed some of the wires were red and some were black, so I colored them all black, but that didn’t help. My dad said it wasn’t safe to plug it in, so I added a bunch of batteries and wedged some aluminum foil into the empty spaces. The radio makes clucking sounds now, like there’s a chicken in there. That’s not right, is it?”
    â€œProbably not,” agreed Victor.
    â€œSo anyway, I was thinking that maybe I could leave it here and your uncle Frank could help me look at it. He’s at least as old as the radio. Maybe he’ll catch something I missed.”
    â€œWe can ask him,” said Victor, “although I don’t know if—”
    â€œDid someone mention my name?” Franklin appeared from around the side of the house, wheeling his starspangled bike. To Victor’s amazement, it was now covered with even more red, white, and blue decorations.
    â€œHey, Mr. Benjamin,” called Scott. “That looks amazing!”
    Franklin beamed. “Why, thank you, Scott. I am honored that you approve.”
    â€œI wish my bike looked like that. Don’t you, Victor?”
    â€œUh, sure. Yes, of course I do.”
    â€œI have more stickers,” offered Franklin. “Would you boys like some for your bikes?”
    â€œThat would be awesome, ” said Scott.
    â€œDefinitely,” agreed Victor, “but I’m, uh . . . afraid we’re out of time. You guys don’t want to be late, do you?”

CHAPTER THREE
    The Independence Day Bicycle Parade
    The Independence Day bike parade was a patriotic spectacle. Hundreds of Philadelphians pedaled down the street on decorated bicycles. Mayor Milstead led the way, her own bike sporting a pair of lit sparklers on the handlebars. A local high school band had loaded their drums, trumpets, trombones, and even a sousaphone onto their bikes and played a clumsy but rousing rendition of “Stars and Stripes Forever.”
    A crowd cheered from the sidewalks, giving an extra ovation to a man dressed as Benajmin Franklin. He wore authentic eighteenth-century clothes as he wobbled along. Even with training wheels, his balance was uncertain.
    â€œHow’s it going, Ben?” Victor asked, pedaling alongside.
    â€œI admit to having some difficulty maintaining forward locomotion, steering, and sustaining my balance,” Franklin huffed. “But experience is the best teacher, and I shall soon master this remarkable contraption!”
    â€œTry not to think too much,” Scott suggested. “That’s what I do. Hey, look at that!”
    A small airplane flew overhead, towing an enormous banner reading FREE BICYCLE REPAIRS AT THE RIGHT CYCLE CO.
    Franklin grinned broadly, craning his neck to get a good look. “The airplane! Of all your modern-day inventions, that may be the most miraculous. I remember watching the Montgolfier brothers’ first hot-air balloon flight. We never dreamed that it would lead to—”
    â€œWatch the road!” Victor shouted.
    Franklin swerved and narrowly avoided crashing into a cycling trombonist.
    Several near misses later, the procession reached the performance stage in the park. Mayor Milstead got off her bike and joined four men who were waiting on the stage. A cluster of news vans was parked nearby, their cameras focused on the mayor.
    â€œCitizens of Philadelphia,” Mayor Milstead began, “I would like to thank you all for participating in our first annual Independence Day Bicycle Parade.”
    The crowd applauded.
    Victor craned