And it felt exactly how she had dreamed it would feel.
Chapter Ten
Sweetheart of balloon buster and flying ace Leo Ward led the war hero on a wild chase through the air during the Flying Flappers’ debut performance in Platt, Michigan. Miss McAdams’s long auburn hair gives hope that this impetuous young lady has not entirely forsaken modesty. With bobbed hair all the rage, it is a relief and a succor to witness such long tresses on a petticoat flyer so determined to abandon all other hallmarks of her sex. It is a pity that most of her companions have elected for the more vulgar styles, which distract from their otherwise feminine proportions. Miss McAdams’s attire, however, leaves much to be desired. It is best for women to leave flight jackets and trouser wearing to the men.
—Benjamin Pringle,Chicago Advance Leader
That—that—was the article about yesterday’s show? Mattie wasnotLeo’s dame. Even if she was, her relationship would have had no bearing on what she’d accomplished.She’dbeen the one to inch her Jenny between the stone pillars holding up the railway bridge. Leo had just looped prosaically above. Yet the article still managed to be abouthim, as if it had been some sort of a lovers’ romp through the air.
Indignation gushed from Mattie like water from an uncapped fire hydrant as she stepped into the pink parlor, where the female members of the Flying Flappers were gathered. When she shook the paper furiously over her head, her friends looked at her in confusion.
“Grr-ahh.” Too angry to articulate her rage beyond that single nonsensical sound, Mattie stabbed her finger against the article and accidentally ripped a small hole.
Everyone crowded around, each jostling to see what had upset her. Vera snagged the paper first, her painted lips pursing angrily. She practically flung the periodical at Aida before she reached forward to pat Mattie’s arm.
“I was called Packard Jones’s daughter for years until I gave the newspapers enough fodder that they started using my full name.”
“When Leo downed his first enemy plane, no one reported that the airman instructed by the skilled pilot Mattie McAdams brought down his first enemy plane over the hills of France in a display of her fine teaching skills. Nor should they have done so. Leo earned his victory, just like I’ve worked for mine.” Mattie began to pace. Part of her wanted to stomp from the room and take to the skies in her Jenny. But for the first time, she wasn’t alone in her disappointment.
Aida crumpled the paper. “Every society has a way of framing events, and it is through the male lens that much of history has been portrayed.”
Mattie rubbed her forehead. She very much wanted to kick something but had no intention of scuffing one of Vera’s intricately carved furniture pieces. Vera moved to the bar and quickly whipped up a cocktail. When the heiress handed her a golden-tinged drink, Mattie automatically closed her fingers around the cool glass stem. Unthinkingly, she lifted the concoction to her lips as she sank into the mohair settee. An odd combination of sour and spice exploded in her mouth, echoing her feelings toward the damned article.
Carrie, who had just finished skimming the paper, sank down beside Mattie. “At least there was a picture of you. The only one of me was the very top of my head when we all hugged each other.”
“You should have been featured alongside me! If we had been men, they would have been praising how well we steadied the planes so as to keep our lovely lady companions aloft.”
Carrie nodded. “But at least the article finally gets around to identifying you. I’m only referred to in passing by the color of my skin and my sex. I know that the reporter had both my first and last names. I spelled them for him. Twice. And ‘Carrie Wilcox’ is not difficult to remember.”
Mattie paused, taking in the enormity of Carrie’s words. How often had Mattie railed about the need for equality? But she had never considered that she herself had an automatic advantage.
“I should have considered that, Carrie. Here I was outraged just on my own behalf.”
Carrie sighed and straightened her spine. “I’ve learned that I need to work four times as hard. Double for being a woman. And double that again for being Black. But I am still going to fly, and I am going to love it. I won’t let narrow-minded reporters diminish any of my accomplishments or joy, and you shouldn’t either.”
Mattie was used to people trying to dismiss her contributions as a woman. But she never had to think about being shut out completely because of her race. The realization barreled into her that Carrie was not just fighting for females to be seen and acknowledged, but her efforts were also making a difference for her entire race.
For that, Mattie truly admired Carrie.
“Nor should we allow troll-voiced hecklers to intimidate us.” Mattie raised her glass.
Carrie arched an eyebrow. “Troll-voiced hecklers?”
“There was a man who said, in a horrible troll-like tone, that there were better things I could do with my kisser than challenge a war hero.”
Carrie lifted her cocktail as well. “Here’s to defying narrow-minded reporters and trolls!”
“And parents who think your value is intrinsically tied to your marriageability!” Vera stood, her chest thrust out, her shoulders squared, her posture positively militant.
“And people who say that females shouldn’t tinker with machines.” Sadie jumped to join Vera, her face flushed and her brown freckles standing out against the red hue.
“And those who say a mother and wife’s place is only in the home.” Alice bounced to her feet with the power and grace that allowed her to soar under the big tent.
“Or folks who claim that being a woman in show business is the same as being a whore.” Lily tossed her blonde curls, sending them bouncing in a surprisingly fierce manner that seemed to echo the rhythm of a beating drum.
“Or sociologists who claim that the only natural pursuits of the gentler sex are domestic ones.” Aida put down her notebook and rose, her feet slightly spread apart as she held her cocktail aloft like a flaming torch.
Mattie and Carrie both scrambled to their feet. As all the women’s glasses met in one glorious, resounding clink, a wonderful swell rushed through Mattie. It was as if the Flying Flappers had created their own electromagnetic force field, and they’d all become charged by it.
