Why did he have to be right? I leaned forward to rest my elbow on my knee and rubbed my forehead. Parker, after all, had said he’d make sure I never saw space, so maybe I should focus on what I could do for my family. “Maybe that’s not where my priority should be. I mean … shouldn’t I be planning for what I can control, instead of some random thing that might happen?”
“Elma.” I could imagine Hershel glaring over the rim of his glasses at me. He’d confessed once that he actually couldn’t see that way, but it looked fairly intimidating. “You are not going to be happy unless you try for this.”
“But what if I don’t get in?”
He laughed at me. “If you don’t get in, I’ll buy you a subscription to Mystery in Space.”
“Good. I’ll need it to drown my sorrows.”
“Look … The flight will have to do a layover somewhere. Why don’t I see if I can find a route through Kansas City? Aunt Esther will probably need to rest anyway, so we can spend the night, and you can see her. Hm?”
“Gee. You mean it?” His ability to reduce me to a kid again is remarkable. And my hands had stopped shaking, to boot. “Maybe you’ll even be here for a rocket launch.”
A living aunt and making the first cut in the astronaut application process … When I went to work the next day, I was still vibrating with joy. Even the linoleum of the IAC seemed brighter.
Before we went down our separate hallways, Nathaniel leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Careful. You’re going to blind someone with that smile.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll go away as soon as I see what your engineers have mucked up this time.”
He laughed and gave my hand a squeeze before sauntering down to his office.
Even from down the hall, the computer department had the hum of morning arrival, the air chirping with bright conversation full of recipe exchanges and compliments on dresses. Once we started working, it became all math and slide rules and the rattle of the Friden calculator. Lately there was the occasional curse as the IBM overheated. Again.
When I rounded the corner into the room, Basira was sitting on our shared desk waving her hands in the air as if she were conducting a symphony. “… chandeliers everywhere. I had no idea. And the singing! Oh, they were wonderful.”
Myrtle shook her head. “Gee. All we did was go bowling. It was our league night.”
“What’s going on?” I set my bag on the desk and began working at the buttons on my coat. As much as I wanted to blurt out that I’d been selected for the first round of testing, Basira had the floor.
“Hank took me over to the Missouri side to see a show last night.” She clapped her hands. “It was to die for. The Midland Theater—it was as if someone said, ‘Could we put more decoration here?’ and then answered ‘yes’ every time. Even the toilets were ornamented.”
I shrugged out of my coat, resolutely not saying that I’d made the first cut. “I can’t think of the last time we went to a show.”
“Well, if you get a chance—” She broke off, looking past me. “Geez, Helen. Are you okay?”
“Just allergies.” Helen waved her hand with a smile, but her eyes were red and swollen. Her shoulders drooped. Her voice had a rough burr.
Oh hell. She hadn’t made the cut.
I did not announce at work that I’d made the first cut, but at the 99s? Well … I wouldn’t be able to avoid the topic there. When Sunday rolled around, I went out to the airfield with the letter in my bag. I still wasn’t comfortable around Betty. True, she had reunited me with my aunt, but she’d carried the letter around for months. She could have given it to Helen or Nicole to deliver, so once again, I felt like she was manipulating and using me.
Pearl had brought a pound cake, which was sitting in the middle of the table inside the hangar. Ida and Imogene huddled inside their coats. Nicole had taken off one glove to eat cake. Even with the doors closed, my breath frosted white until I got right next to the table and the tiny space heater under it. My ankles scorched while my fingers froze.
“Ooo! Cake.” Brilliant conversationalist, I know. It was that or talk about how big Pearl was getting. If she wasn’t carrying twins, I’d be stunned.
“I was just in a baking mood, I guess.” She rubbed her stomach with one hand.
Nicole looked at the clock. “Just missing Helen…”
As if that had summoned her, the door to the hangar opened with a bang. Helen stood in the door with a bag over her shoulder. She came in, slamming it behind her. At least she wasn’t sad anymore?
She looked at me, then the rest of the group. “My application was rejected.”
“Mine too.” Ida raised her hand. “Not that it surprises anyone.”
I cleared my throat. “I’m in.”
“Me too.” Nicole set her cake down, brushing the crumbs off her skirt.
Imogene shook her head. “Rejected due to insufficient experience with jet engines.”
“They took me.” Betty shifted to look at Pearl. “What about you?”
“I didn’t apply.” She ran her hand over the arc of her stomach. “We’ll wait until the colony is established and then see.”
The silence in the hangar grew palpable. Outside, the buzz of airplanes said that the world continued on, but in here, something had broken. Even though we were all bunched together around the table, a jagged line ran through our group. Having some in and some not was bad enough, but the racial lines were so clear.
Helen broke the silence and upended her bag on the table. Manuals and textbooks flopped open. I caught one as it slid toward the edge of the table. It was a manual for a T-33. From the pile, Helen pulled out a steno pad. “These are the airfields with jet planes.”
“But the deadline has passed…” Nicole shook her head. “I mean, it’s terrible, but what can you do?”
“I can be ready next time.” Helen glared at her, then turned her attention to Ida and Imogene. The ferocity in her stance reminded me that she was a champion chess player. “You too.”
Leaning forward, Ida picked up a manual and flipped through it. “Sounds like we’ve got some flying to do.”
“And some letters to write.” Imogene turned to Betty. “You gonna publicize this as well?”
“I don’t know…”
Imogene had perfected the art of the raised eyebrow. She added in a pursed lip, and the disappointment cracked off of her like a whip.
Betty raised her hands, palms out in a conciliatory motion. “I just have to figure out the angle.”
“How about ‘Racists Running Astronaut Selection’?” Imogene grabbed the knife from the table and nearly stabbed the cake. “Dr. King is going to have a field day with this. Bet all the candidates are white.”
“I can…” I stopped and cleared my throat. Was I really about to offer this? “Would it help if you had a list of who got in?”
Ida nodded and broke off a piece of her cake. “It would. And don’t worry, Betty, we’ve got black papers that are going to be more than happy to run this story. They won’t have any trouble understanding the ‘angle. ’”
TWENTY-NINE
LUNETTA ORBITING PLATFORM POISED TO SET NEW RECORD
KANSAS CITY, KS, April 26, 1957—Tomorrow morning, if all goes as scheduled, the three astronauts of the Lunetta 2 crew will blast off for a record 59-day mission in the orbiting international station in space. Successful completion of the astronauts’ assignment will represent another milestone passed toward attaining the capability for long-term manned spaceflight, whether in orbit, as with Lunetta, or on some future crew’s flight toward Mars, Venus, or Jupiter.