"Bobby?" Dusty asked as he opened one of the doors to my hangar. I looked over from a book I'd balanced on one of the wall beams for me to see it better. "I was wondering if we could maybe talk? Get to know each other better." I turned to face him and looked at him before turning back towards my book.
"What would you want to talk to me for? I'm nothing special or anyone important. Wasn't even built right. Just head on back to your hangar and leave me be. It'll be better for both of us." I said as I began reading again. From my spot in the hangar I could see Dusty's shadow start to move back and I was about to let out a sigh of relief when I noticed more shadows join him. Turning again I saw Dipper and Cabbie had joined Dusty in front of my hangar. "I thought I told you to leave." I told Dusty as I rolled forward.
"Bobby, we want to know what's wrong." Dipper said, the caring tone in her voice making me even angrier at them.
"Nothing's wrong. Got it? There is nothing wrong with me." I replied in a tone that would make even an Apache helicopter back away. Yet the three could plainly see right through the lie. Seeing this, I immediately began to think of other ways to get them to go away. And only one came to mind. Catching the edge of the hangar door with my wingtip I attempted to slam it but Cabbie stopped it with his wing. Looking up at the bigger plane I swallowed hard and backed up enough for Dusty and Dipper to enter. Cabbie stuck his fuselage as far into the hangar as he could without his wings hitting the outside. "If I answer your questions will you all leave me alone?" They all looked at each other and gave a small nod before looking at me again. "Alright. I guess just start asking when you're all ready."
"Well, where were you built?" Dipper asked me and I was surprised that was the first question.
"Kansas City in 1944." I replied and I began to think that their questions may not be that bad.
"Did you serve in the war?" Dusty asked and I felt myself go rigid.
"No. No I didn't. I left training too late. I got my orders to fly to Okinawa the day before the surrender. And then the paper the next day ruined my chances of doing my bit for the war effort. I ended up being an instructor. Then after a couple years they told me they didn't need me anymore. After that I bounced around from job to job until one of my friends from my Army Air Force days managed to get me a job with Bendix King. That radio each of you have built in, I used to be the spokes plane for that. Then after a few years they told me they had a new plane. A jet. The ones who'd stolen my career in the Air Force were now stealing the one job I'd been good at."
Looking up from the hangar floor I noticed they were all waiting for me to continue. "I ended up without a job again. By then it was the late 50s. In an age where jets were all the rage and planes like me were labeled as obsolete, I had nowhere to go. No family, one friend that I'd lost contact with; I had nothing. And then one day I was flying along when I saw a bunch of little single engine guys flying around pylons in the desert. Of course hardly anyone had heard of Reno then but it was before it was a big thing." My eyes glanced up at the three and I saw Cabbie having a look of understanding on his face. "I landed and watched all these fighters from my time chasing each other around and around until most of them were low on fuel. This was where I'd meet all the old racers you typically only read about now like Bob Hoover and even Doolittle showed up one time during one of their practice sessions. I sat and watched the racers land but one of them broke off and taxied over to me. It turned out it was my friend who'd gotten me the job with Bendix King. He had painted himself up in Air Force Thunderbirds colors, which really pissed them off by the way, and he was racing now. He told me they were going to be starting a category for planes like myself. If I wanted I could race in the category of course. That was when I got a new job."
"So what caused you two to end your friendship?" Dipper asked and I looked down towards the floor and sighed.
"Well, that's kind of more personal." I replied but I knew that it would need to be discussed at one point or another. "The truth is that, they didn't exactly put me together right at the factory." Grabbing a can of oil from the corner of the hangar, I rolled back over to the three other planes watching me. I took a sip before steeling my nerves but avoided eye contact with any of them. "When they put me together, they must've gotten a wire or two crossed." I told them and I waited for a smartaleck comment from one of them. But it didn't come and I realized that now was the time that I would have to tell the truth. "The fact of the matter is, I'm homosexual." I sat and waited for the sound of disgusted airplanes but instead they simply looked at me as if waiting for something else.
"That's-that's it?" Dipper asked and I looked at her in shock at her reaction. In seventy years, I'd never run across someone seemingly as accepting as her. "I thought you were going to say you were wanted by the police or something." She said with a small grin and I felt relieved that, for once, I wasn't thought of as a freak. Just as I opened my mouth to say something, the PA system let out a quick squeal before a voice began speaking.
"Attention, report of a brush fire at Thunderbolt Bluffs." The PA clicked off and I looked to the planes in front of me. As I looked at them, Dipper gave me a smile.
"You ready to get to work, Bobby?" She asked as the hangar doors opened up and I could see everyone prepping to go. I gave her a smug grin as I rolled forward and started my engines.
"Always. Now, let's do this."