“Dr. York?”
“Um. Yes.”
“This is Lorraine Purvis. I wrote to you.” She gave a little laugh. “Lord. I can’t believe you’re really her niece. We just … Well. She just gets so confused sometimes. Sweet as anything, but … Listen, why don’t you hold on for just a minute and I’ll go get her.”
“Oh, I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“It’s fine. I won’t pull her out of the dining room if she’s still eating. Be right back.” The phone clunked against a desk or counter and I could hear her footsteps tapping away in the distance.
Nathaniel had moved across our studio to the kitchen and was taking the dishes out of the drying rack. The plates clattered against each other as he put them away in the cupboard. Cleaning was probably a good way to distract myself. I reached down to pick up the rest of the papers Nathaniel had dropped.
The report had pages covered with equations in Helen’s handwriting. Stacking them, it was hard not to look over the calculations. As a sign of how disordered my mind was, it took me a moment to recognize them as orbital trajectories for Brazil, Kenya, and Indonesia.
All three spots were equatorial and had lower fuel consumption than anywhere in the United States or Europe. And all three had eastern coasts, which would be nice, since it meant that a failed rocket would drop into water instead of—
The phone rustled and clattered as someone picked it up. “Dr. York?”
“Yes.”
“One moment, I have your aunt here.”
“Thank you.” I set the pages down on the coffee table and closed my eyes, waiting.
The phone rustled, then a voice like an aged and beloved canary flitted through the line. “Anselma?”
“Aunt Esther.” My voice cracked and the room blurred behind yet another veil of maddening tears. It was like hearing a ghost. What do you say to someone you thought was dead? For that matter, she must have thought the same of me until she saw me on Mr. Wizard. What came out of my mouth was a banal and safe social noise. “How are you?”
“Well … well, well, well. As I live and breathe. Isn’t it wonderful to hear your voice.”
“I’m sorry. I only just got the letter. I didn’t know.”
“Lands, child, I didn’t know you were alive, either. After Rose and I got out of Charleston, well—I thought it was just the two of us.”
It was good that there was a phone line between us. At the sound of my grandmother’s name, I had to move the phone away from my mouth and cover it for a moment. She had lived. When I read the letter— She had been living with a sister, who has since passed away—I hadn’t known which sister.
Goddamn it. My grandmother had survived the tidal waves that swamped Charleston, and I had done nothing to find her.
TWENTY-EIGHT
ASTRONAUTS SUFFER BONE LOSS
Special to The National Times.
KANSAS CITY, KS, April 18, 1957—The medical report on the astronauts who recently spent 43 days aboard the Lunetta orbiting space platform illustrated how their organisms responded to the unprecedented conditions of prolonged life in space. The astronauts were found, for example, to have about 14 percent fewer red cells in their blood when they returned. Projecting the impact of such changes on future astronauts coming back after a long stay in space suggests that these returnees could become instant invalids on Earth. One goal of Lunetta will be to see whether increased exercise in space slows down these adjustments so that future spacemen can become earthmen again with minimal trouble.
When I put the phone down, Nathaniel looked up from the newspaper he had been reading. He’d long since finished putting the dishes away.
“That sounded like a good phone call.”
“She’s doing well.” Standing, I rubbed my forehead, still a little shocked. “But I don’t think she’s happy there. I was thinking…”
“You want her to move in with us?” He lowered the paper and leaned back in his chair. “What about going to live with Hershel?”
I shrugged, crossing to join him at the table. “Sure. She could. But he already has two kids, and I don’t know that they need another mouth to feed.”
He grunted and drummed his fingers on the table. “We’d need a bigger place … and I’m willing to do that…”
“But?” The studio was fine for the two of us, but adding a third really would be too much.
“We can’t afford a house yet, and paying more in rent for a larger place…” He spread his hands, trying not to call attention to the fact that we’d spent our savings to cover the damage to the plane in the air show. “It’s something to think about.”
“Housing prices have come down. We haven’t really looked for a place in a while, and there are those new subdivisions out by the Sunflower facility.”
“It’s not just … My hesitation isn’t just about the space. If the IAC is moving the launch facilities to Brazil, then that might not be a good choice for Aunt Esther.” Nathaniel shrugged. “I mean, I could continue to work at Sunflower doing designs. For a while anyway.”
“Oh.” I gnawed the inside of my lip, thinking. “Well, we aren’t likely to make that move for at least a year while they do construction. Right?”
“More likely two, since we still have to pick the site.” Nathaniel sat forward in his chair and took my hand. “But if you’re accepted as an astronaut, then … I know what their training schedule is like. Is that going to be fair to her?”
“You think I should leave her in a nursing home?” I’d just found my aunt again, and now he expected me to leave her with strangers?
“God, no.” He ran his free hand over his hair. “But if Hershel is willing to take her in, that might be a better choice in the long run. We don’t have to make any decisions now, but it’s worth thinking about.”
* * *
Two weeks after I spoke with my aunt. Two weeks after I called Hershel to let him know that she was alive. Two weeks later, I was on the phone with my brother again, holding another letter in my shaking hand.
I had taken a Miltown, but that only slowed my heart from a gallop to a trot.
“National Weather Center, Hershel Wexler speaking.”
“Hey, it’s Elma … Have you got a minute?” The black plastic of the phone trapped sweat in my palm.
“What’s wrong?” Through the receiver, I could hear the sound of his office door shutting.
“I was just invited to move into the first round of testing for the astronaut program.” The letter still shook in my hand. I’d somehow thought that they would tell me at work, but I’d gotten a form letter along with … I didn’t know how many other women.
“Mazel tov! Wait until I tell Rachel. She’s going to be … over the moon.”
I groaned at the joke. “You are the worst.”
“Seriously, though, I’m so proud of you. When do you go in?”
“Well, that’s the problem.” I finally sat down on the sofa and put the letter on the coffee table in front of me. “It’s the week we’re scheduled to go visit Aunt Esther. And it’s five full days of testing.”
“Oh.” Hershel shuffled some papers on his desk. He sighed. “Well, let me see if I can change my vacation request.”
“I’m sorry.” I twisted the cord in my hand.
“Or … there’s really no reason for us both to go. You could do the testing and then come out to visit once we’ve got her settled.”
The room seemed to get colder. “I thought—I thought we were going to decide that once we saw her in person. You know. And talked to the nursing staff about what she needed?”
Hershel laughed in my ear. “Yeah. Well … at that point the concern had been your schedule, not whether you were on the planet.”
“We don’t know that I’m going to get in.”
“Please. Elma. They’d be idiots not to hire you, for publicity reasons, if nothing else.”
“That’s not how the space agency works.” Everything about the space program was complex
and dangerous. There’s no way they would fly someone unqualified just for publicity reasons—at least not until things were established. “Everyone who goes up now has to be able to work. Who knows what testing will show?”
“Right. Uh-huh. You’ll owe me the newest Blackhawk comic if I’m right. Which I am.” My big brother could sound so cocksure sometimes. “And you also needed time to find a new place, right? That’s why we were waiting until next month.”
“Yes…” The newspaper lay across the room on the kitchen table, still folded in a tidy bundle. Nathaniel and I would have to go through the classified ads tonight.
“Do you really want to be house-shopping and moving while preparing for these tests?”
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.
On Monday, most of my morning went to helping Bubbles with data from his latest engine tests. He bounced on his toes as he leaned over the desk. Across from me, Basira had her lower lip firmly clamped between her teeth and a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. His enthusiasm was just so … enthused.
“All right, Bubbles … The amount of thrust is consistent.” I slid the sheet of calculations over to him. “Even with a payload, you would only need two stages instead of three to get to orbit.”
“I knew it!” He punched the air, tie flapping. “Launchpad, here we come!”
I cleared my throat. “On paper the Sirius is ready. But that’s Dr. York’s call.”
He grinned. “You’re Dr. York too.”
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “You know which one I mean … I’m just a computer, he’s the lead engineer.” That said, the engine tests had been very consistent, and it was the most stable fuel structure I’d seen come through our department. This had the potential to be a game changer for the moon missions because it would consume fewer resources. More importantly, a two-stage launch process meant less opportunity for failure. “Go on. Show him.”
He picked up the pages, shrugging. “Ah. He and the director are off-site right now. But when he comes back, for certain! Thanks!”
Of all the engineers, Bubbles was probably my favorite. He bounced out of the room, paper and tie fluttering with each step.
Basira gave up her battle with laughter and bent forward to bury her face in her arms. “Does he end every sentence with an exclamation point?”
The Calculating Stars Page 25