Flint chuckled. “Lucky,” he said as he turned back toward the kitchen.
Monica
“GIRLS DON’T FLY for the Air Force.” Uncle Taj was in my face, trying to shove his doubt down my throat but I refused to eat that bullshit. My mom’s little brother had a way of turning even the most relaxed family dinner into an argument, and he didn’t give a single care that he was a grown adult and I was barely thirteen. Hell, that’s probably why he always poked at me. Bullies always went for people they viewed as weaker.
Younger, but far from fragile, I never backed down from his attacks. “You’re wrong,” I spat back. “Jeannie Leavitt became the first female fighter pilot in 1993, and plenty of others have followed in her footsteps. You can look it up if you don’t believe me.”
“You can look it up if you don’t believe me,” he mocked with a sneer. “Such a know-it-all. There’s only been a handful of female pilots, and they’ve all been white. Nobody’s gonna let some black girl fly.”
He was the worst kind of doubter, stabbing at my dreams with a knife he’d fashioned out of ignorance. Knowing he was only trying to rile me up didn’t stop me from reacting. Standing, I braced to do battle for my future. “You’re wrong again. Shawna Rochelle Kimbrell got her wings two years ago and she’s a fighter pilot. Why you comin’ at me with stuff you know nothing about?”
“Monica, watch your tone,” Mom said, interrupting. I never understood why age demanded respect. Respect should be earned, and Uncle Taj had done nothing to win mine. He was just a miserable scrub who was always hustling my mom for food and money. “Taj, please. She’s been working very hard for this. Don’t—”
He snorted. “Then she shouldn’t be makin’ shit up. No way they let a black girl in.”
His ignorance made me angry. “The computers at school have this neat new thing called the internet. It’s like our encyclopedia set, but up-to-date and not missing any volumes.” Not like he’d ever picked up a book in his life, but he might at least know what they were.
He glared at me. “I know what the internet is. They’re lyin’. Or they’re just tryin’ to get your hopes up. The Air Force sure as shit didn’t put no black girl in the sky. You’re never gonna be a pilot. Odds are better that you won’t even make it through high school without getting knocked up. You should stop fillin’ your head with that bullshit and come back down to the earth with the rest of us. Next thing you know she’s gonna be spoutin’ off about bein’ an astronaut.”
My dad, who’d been in the bathroom, chose that moment to storm back into the dining room. “Excuse me?” he asked, stopping beside my uncle’s chair. “What did you say to my daughter?”
Uncle Taj looked to my mom, who usually kept the peace between him and Dad, but she shrugged. “You got yourself into this mess. You need to learn when to keep your opinions to yourself.”
Uncle Taj took a drink of his beer and softened his toned before saying, “I don’t think it’s good for her to have such crazy dreams.”
Dad’s eyes iced over. “Get the fuck out.”
“Martin…” Mom started.
“No. I don’t care if he is your blood, he does not get to come up in my house, eating my food and drinking my beer, and tell my daughter what she can and can’t do.” He took a step closer, towering over the still seated Uncle Taj. “You haven’t lifted a finger to raise your own kids and you sure as hell won’t tell me how to raise mine. Get the fuck out now.”
Uncle Taj gaped at him. “I didn’t mean no offense, I just—”
“Well that’s too damn bad, because I’m offended. We’re her parents, not you. And some lazy, jobless, responsibility shirking bastard like yourself sure as hell won’t be clipping her wings. Get out. You’re not welcome here anymore.”
My uncle made no move to get up and comply.
“Don’t test me, Taj. I’ll pick your ass up out of that chair, and if I lay hands on you, I won’t be able to fuckin’ stop.”
“Taj, leave,” Mom said, her voice low and commanding.
He must have finally realized the danger he was in, because he stood quickly, knocking back his chair.
My eight-year-old brother, Damien, dropped his fork. It clattered against his plate and he slapped it onto the table to silence it.
Uncle Taj opened his mouth to say something else, but Dad flexed, and my uncle thought better of it. “I don’t need this bullshit,” he muttered, stomping toward the front of the house.
“Yeah? Well don’t come back!” Dad shouted.
The front door slammed, rattling that entire side of our small house.
Mom and Dad shared a look.
“He’s family,” Mom said.
“Family should know better than talkin’ shit like that.” Still radiating anger, Dad paced the length of our small dining room a few times before stopping to kneel in front of me. “Baby girl, people like your uncle have no drive, no goals, no dreams, no ambition. They don’t know what to make of someone like you. You’re determined and stubborn as hell, and if you want to be a pilot, nobody in this world can stop you, but you.”
“I know, Daddy.”
