If I Fly

“What do you mean?” Nadine Crockett asked in a text message. The darkness of the night covered where she sat.

“I mean that you have refused to confront the reality of your position.”

A few seconds ticked by until Nadine issued another text.

“Okay, but you know me….”

“In all your years,” the text bubble showed.

Nadine paused again. She looked at her smartwatch. It was four fifty in the morning. Some perspiration congregated at her temples and forehead. Her heart quickened. The transmission continued.

“If you want to be a pilot, you’re going to have to die….” the message read.

“I’ve trained only on the ground. So what you’re saying is if I get up into a helicopter and fly, I’ll be dead?”

Text bubbles. Then…. “Yes. you will perish. No amount of precaution will prevent you from meeting your fate.”

Nadine’s hands trembled as she held the smartphone. She typed anyway.

“I’m going to become a pilot no matter what. You can try to scare me all you want. I’m going up there.”

“And you’ll be going up Yonder, too.”

She smirked in an attempt to ease her disposition. 

“All you have to do is focus on the fact you’re going to die and it will be like you’ve never been born.” The text message glowed and the stress remained ever present in her mind.

“If I say that you’re going to be a liar and a coward, would I be getting it right?”

A few seconds passed. “No. This is just a friendly reminder that you’re going to crash and burn in a Delaware field all by yourself.”

With that last statement, Nadine remained undaunted. She noticed the power bar on her phone had been dangerously low. She plugged the lightning cable into the mobile device and watched as the bar transitioned from red to green.

As she typed her next message, she breathed. Her eyes closed.

“If you wish to go on with your life, drop the idea of a black woman flying. There are too few as it is. Don’t add to that lineup of people.”

Nadine sniffled. She reached for her inhaler. When she depressed the device, she felt a sense of physical relief, even as her mind reeled. 

“Take my advice…you give up your dreams of becoming a commercial pilot, or else they’re going to have to enlist dental records to identify your remains.”

“I know this may come as a shock to you, but I know that I’m going to be in the air flying for the first time by myself and enjoying every moment.”

“Yes, until you strike the ground and your whole world comes to a shattering halt,” the text message read on her phone.

 she typed.

“It means nothing. You’re going to fly and die. Every wish, hope, and promise you ever had will be lost and a ball of fire and debris.”

She continued to type. “You’re trying to scare me, it’s only worked but so far. If I continue to allow you to lead me down this road, I could burst into tears and crumple up like some discarded tissue paper. But I won’t. You don’t frighten me.”

“That’s all well and good but it does not negate your date with destiny. Your demise is just on the horizon. You will see you’re more suited for cleaning houses and office work as a secretary.”

An audible gasp escaped from her mouth. “First you say I’m going to die, I can just about deal with that. But should my life be a stereotype? The latter seems like more of a sting than the former.”

A few bubbles later…. “It’ll be a lot safer for you to become the maid than the captain of an aircraft….”

“I’m still going to pursue my goal and nevermind what you think.”

“Why become a pilot when there are young white babies to look after every day? You can spend more time with them instead of your future children….” the text message read.

“I know you’re trying to scare me or backhandedly show me career goals, but I’m not having this. You’re just envious because I chose to be a career woman.”

“Is that what you think of me? Someone who slaved and sacrificed my life? I’m telling you if you go up there you’re going to come down and it won’t be pretty. They’ll need shovels and plastic bags to pick up whatever will be left of you.”

Pictures of her body on fire scorched through her consciousness like a match to alcohol. She wanted to end the transmissions, hang up and dial 9-1-1 but chose not to do so. She sat upright in her bed. By sitting up straight, she could best understand her placement in this whole scheme of knowing what she wanted to do with this whole scenario. 

“So, you’re just going to keep texting me while there are floors to sweep and mop?”

“I’m going to keep you up as long as I can. This matter must be fixed.”

“There is no matter. It’s just the specter of death hanging over you like some smoggy cloud.”

“I can’t be impressed by your words. You’ve proven to be the worst of all. To suggest that someone squander their dreams for menial work when the opportunity to be great is present. Yes, those positions were necessary sixty years ago, but not today. Black women can be whomever they wish. I intend to be a private pilot.”

“Why not distinguish yourself as a fine upstanding cook? You can serve hog maw and cornbread in someone’s kitchen.”

Nadine rolled her eyes. The fear remained present like a line of bones underscoring her every thought. With a quick glance outside the window, she felt as if the other person on the text had finally stopped. She blinked and noticed the bubbles.

“Whatever happens, you won’t be able to sleep properly tonight. You’re going to toss and wrestle with this notion of being a pilot and then you’re going to have your ideas battle you and you’re going to submit. You’re going to kowtow to the sense that you should never have dreamed of being a pilot.”

Hurt, Nadine nevertheless tapped on her screen.

“You can throw barbs. It does not matter. What you have shown is nothing but fearmongering. I refuse to bow under the words you type.”

“That’s fine, you can ‘Be all you can be’.”

The words flashed before her eyes. Her thumbs struck against the virtual keypad with fervor. 

“I don’t have to take in all of this. I recognize that there’s some kind of a caution in your tone, but I’m not afraid of your words. No one has the amount of time that I have for your blatant negativity.”

The transmissions stopped for a moment. Nadine looked at the sun blaze, a pinkish cast hung over the Wilmington, Delaware sky. She looked at the time at the right hand corner of her phone. With a few more taps, she continued on with the power of her intellect. A shiver coursed through her body.

“What you need to understand is that there is no individual who will inhibit me from becoming a pilot. You have shown that you’re not too persuasive at all.”

For the first time, the person on the other end of the transmission made an emoji of a crying laughing face. Nadine frowned and shook her head. She expressed the gravity of the situation.

“I know you’re trying to scare me or motivate me or whatever. I’m my own system of motivation. I’m not worried about it at all. You can fire at me so many flaming darts. I shall dodge and extinguish them.”

More laughing emojis appeared. This didn’t bristle Nadine, however. Instead, she felt emboldened to continue with her flurry of posts. 

“I’m going to fly. I’m going to be the one black woman who will have the gall to go up against the history of the lack of people who look like me.”

“Yes, you keep up that idea. You roll on that. Go ahead. Be the hero and make your death day come to fruition even sooner. No, don’t listen to me. I know nothing. I have no experience with people with grand schemes. Okay, be that way.”

Nadine saw the sun continue to rotate in the sky as daylight broke. She had been resting on her leg and it felt like pins and needles and a numbness pervading through her lower extremity. Still, even though she felt a tinge of wooziness, she replied to the messenger.

“There’s a way that you’re always going to be denouncing my dreams. Whatever I wish to do, you stifle, you hinder. But I cannot suppress myself and harness my abilities. I will be that FlyGirl that I’ve dreamed of this whole time.” 

The amount of energy began slipping a little bit in Nadine. Despite this, she picked up the device and continued to type.

“What it would have been is now. My days have passed like so many specks of dust swirling in the air. This has given me license to become the woman I want to be and not who you wish I could be.”

“Boo-hoo. You get up into that aircraft and you’re going to see death. You’re going to be about the only person who knows the certainty of their own downfall and still go through with it. I can at least attest to your courage. I mean you’re gonna die, but you’re gonna do it on your own terms. I can respect that.”

Nadine continued to tap.

“You don’t have to patronize me. You’re being passive aggressive and sarcastic, but I know that you’re opposed to all of my actions. You wanted to make this the idea of you becoming a better voice in my world, but look, we’re communicating via text only.”

The way that Nadine typed this almost led her to shudder and almost lie down in exhaustion. She, nevertheless, soldiered on and kept challenging herself to confront this messenger. The person on the other end extended the conversation.

“You went to college. You became a commissioned officer in the Army. You, still, want to become the top flier, why don’t you just go back to logistics?”

“I can’t do that. I won’t do that. If I fly, I’ll be able to apply myself in a way I never conceived possible.”

“You can also apply yourself to the ground in a great fire ball.”

Nadine gritted her teeth so hard she thought she chipped a bicuspid.

“I’m just telling you the truth. You fly, you die. Helicopter, plane, whatever aircraft you are most likely going to be brought down right here in Delaware.”

The way Nadine struck her hand to her head in rapid succession permitted her no solace in this exchange of texts. Instead of grovelling, she sat up straight and forged onward with her own intrepidity.

“I’m going to fly and that is final. Even if they have to play taps by my graveside and fire seven rifles three times, I’m going to go up there.”

“Yes, you’ll be up there. You’ll be in the bosom of Abraham.”

When a few seconds had passed, Nadine felt a strong pang of how this could all be playing out in real time. To consider her time typing like a stenographer on her mind’s soapbox, pontificating the profundity of her own rhetoric seemed abhorrent to her. She felt bereft. It was like she had been a battery that had just enough charge to get home. A glance at the time showed well past six. 

“It’s late.” Nadine observed this as she relaxed her head against a pillow.

“I know what time it is. It’s early.”

Nadine looked down at the screen in sheer terror. What she saw on the phone spooked her as it depicted her lifeless body and the caption reading, “Army Captain Nadine Crocket perishes in a fiery crash.”

“It’s all A.I., but it could happen.”

“Why would you do this, mom?”

She wrote it while holding back tears.

“It’s because I love you.”