"Such a racket!" Maureen cried. "Sounds faster than we're going."
Grandma held her hands over her ears. "Feels as if a thousand dentists are drilling inside my head."
"On your store teeth?" Paul grinned.
"Oh, Paul, stop teasing. I wish ... I wish you and Maureen was littler. If only I had a baby to hold, I'd feel braver."
Grandma soon got her wish. At the next stop they picked up the Hoopers and the Twilleys and young Mrs. Whealton with her squalling baby. Just as the father of the baby was about to board, the pilot poked his head out the window. "Sorry, sir. We're full. You'll have to wait for the next one."
Quickly the young man tried to hand in a pile of diapers, but a gust of wind tore most of them away and they went flying off like kites.
Mrs. Whealton, clutching her baby, started to get out.
"Stay put, lady. Everybody! Stay put!"
"I'll be along soon," Mr. Whealton called. And before the door closed, he thrust in the remaining diapers and the baby's bottle.
As the helicopter took off, Mrs. Whealton began sobbing louder than her baby. The passengers looked at one another, helpless and embarrassed. All except Grandma. She opened wide her arms.