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I hear a buzz, like an irritated giant hornet. slowing my car, i watch three men in a pasture, hunched over a knee-high yellow airplane. It seems to shiver with pent-up energy.
One man-Gulliver-like-straddles the plane to keep it from taxiing. It could be a Cessna at our small airport, just up the road, but it has only the wingspan of a bald eagle. Its stabilizers strain against the man's calves.
He holds a book-size radio transmitter, its antenna sticking out like a fishing pole. Thumbing the transmitter's two prongs, he waggles the airplane's ailerons and elevators. He turns the rudder. He throttles up the engine to a shriek, then steps away.
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