Chapter Ten: My Hero
"'In conclusion, my daddy is my hero because he's the big CEO of his company and that makes him the boss of everyone. He does a good job making sure his workers stay in line and I know nobody can be better than him.'" Mrs. Johnson and her fourth graders clapped, albeit slowly, as the blonde girl at the front of the room gave a bow.
"Well done, Samantha." Mrs. Johnson complimented, hiding her slight discomfort with how Samantha described her father. "Your father must have quite an interesting job." Samantha smiled broadly, casting a cocky smirk at Sky as she journeyed back to her seat. Sky didn't even notice, staring at her desk like she did the entire day. Mrs. Johnson looked to her roster. She knew these essays were mostly meant to be opinionated, so it's not like she could dock Samantha's grade for her attitude towards what being a "hero" meant. "So, class, it looks like our last reader is Skylar Doe. Skylar? Ready?"
"Yes, Mrs. Johnson." Sky said softly, picking up her essay and walking to the front of the room. Mrs. Johnson clapped and Sky's classmates clapped, gave small honks, tapped their wheels on the ground, or tapped their forks depending on the species. Sky turned to face her classmates, looking down to her essay. She rewrote it again during lunch, her crumpled version still stuffed in her math textbook.
Sky took a deep breath, then began speaking. "At first, I didn't have a hero. I didn't have anyone I looked up to or admired enough to call them a 'hero.' So, I decided to write my essay on a war hero. He's a Commander and former flight instructor for the Jolly Wrenches, some of the toughest, meanest flyers in all the Navy. And, like most of the Jolly Wrenches, he was indeed very tough and maybe a little mean. But he knew his stuff. He could teach anyone to fly, and he even worked with psyche humans to help them learn how to work with the other flyers in the Wrenches.
"When I first met him, I thought I hated the Navy Commander. Soon, I found out I was wrong. As time went by, and I learned more and more about this war hero, he actually became my hero. He taught me so much about life and I know the way I live my life will never be the same. He taught me Volo Pro Veritas. In Latin, it means 'I fly for truth.' But, as my hero taught me, the actual translation of this motto is different from how each Jolly Wrench interprets it. For some, it could mean 'honesty is excellence.' For others, it might mean 'I will fight for the right reasons.' To me…..it means loyalty. To stand by what you believe, to stand by the ones you care about, and to never give up on others.
"Our heroes aren't always what they seem. Bravery and kindness can often hide a dark and broken past. My hero saw many things as a warplane, and I'd be willing to bet he still gets nightmares about it. But he doesn't show it. Who would, after all? Even I don't like to talk about my nightmares. Our heroes, whether they're soldiers or firemen or our own parents, deserve our admiration and respect more than anyone else. They do things and they deal with issues we can't even imagine. We fear the idea of going into battle but they face it head-on. They will never show you how upset they are or how much pain they may be feeling because they know we're looking up to them, looking to them for strength when we don't have enough.
"The next time you see your hero, look them in the eyes and tell them how much they mean to you. Tell them how much you admire and maybe even love them. It might just be the one thing they need to hear." Sky looked to her classmates. Several of the students had tears in their eyes, sniffling a bit. Samantha slumped low in her seat, discretely pushing her essay under her books. Sky shifted a bit from one foot to the other. "That's it."
The class began clapping, tapping their forks or wheels, and honking their horns, much louder than before. Sky moved back to her seat without a word. She cast small smiles to her classmates when they complimented her on her essay.
When the bell rang, Mrs. Johnson called Sky aside. The human teacher was smiling broadly. "Well done, Skylar! That was your best work and one of the best essays I've ever heard! I still have to grade it and all, but I can assure you that you've done well enough to pass and move on to the next grade. Congratulations."
"Thanks." Sky said, smiling a bit. But the moment was too bittersweet for the girl, because she knew passing on to the next grade wouldn't stop her from being transferred. When she turned to leave the classroom, her smile fell away in an instant. Her classmates didn't tease her like they used to. Instead, they complimented her on a great essay, but she barely acknowledged them as she slowly made her way back to the orphanage.
For the next week, Sky kept her depressed demeanor. She usually only left her room to eat or go to school. If she wasn't in her room, she would sit in the living room and lounge on the couch, staring out the window. She refused to play with the other children, despite their constant invitations. Everyone could tell she was upset, but she refused to talk about it. She didn't go to Propwash Junction or radio Sparky, her heart heavy at the thought of doing such things.
Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Getty congratulated her for passing the fourth grade, asking about this the miracle worker who managed to change her for the better in a week when they couldn't do it in a year. Sky only replied "My hero." Their amazement made Sky wonder just how Skipper could change her so quickly. He seemed impressed by how well of a job she did with her chores, and the surprise she saw in his eyes sparked something inside her. Smugness? No, pride. Pride, because for once she did something that caused a positive reaction out of someone else. From there, she felt this small tug of motivation to continue trying to please Skipper, to see those surprised and even impressed expressions on the Corsair. It saddened her to think about him, though, so she did everything she could to block out her memories of working for Skipper.
Nothing worked.
Finally, her eleventh birthday came. It was the Saturday after the last day of school. Sky spent the morning in bed, not even going down for breakfast. But her stomach rumbled at lunchtime, so she forced herself out of bed and wandered downstairs to the kitchen. Most of the other children were already there, eating their own lunches. They all wished Sky a happy birthday as she passed them, but she only offered a weak smile in thanks. She made herself a sandwich and moved to the living room to eat. Normally, Rosa kept a strict rule that eating was meant to be done outside or in the kitchen, but Sky didn't think she'd be too hard on her.
"Hey chica." Rosa greeted as she passed the living room. "When you're done with your lunch, I need you to pack your things."
Sky looked up in surprise. The kitchen was right next to the living room with an open arch between the two rooms, allowing the orphans in there to hear their foster mother. They all stared at Rosa in surprise, just like Sky. "Um…what?" Sky asked, finally finding her voice.
"You need to pack your things." Rosa said. "You're leaving today."
"I thought I had until tomorrow." Sky said.
Rosa looked down. "Something came up. Just…..let me know when you're ready." She walked off. Sky stared after her, sighing heavily. But she finished her lunch, set her dishes in the kitchen sink, and trudged upstairs to her room. She pulled her suitcase out from under her bed, an old wheeling suitcase Rosa got in a garage sale. She always made sure every orphan had a suitcase for when they moved to their new homes. Only this time, Sky would just be going to a new foster family. She plopped the suitcase onto her bed, folding up her blanket and placing it inside. She really didn't own much: a set of pajamas, an extra pair of overalls, some underwear and socks, her school stuff all in her backpack, and an old plane figurine she found in a "Free" box at a garage sale. She stared at the toy, realizing at once it was a Corsair. How ironic. She thought, tossing the toy into her suitcase. She found Max's firefighting helmet and placed it inside, zipping up her suitcase and grabbing her backpack. Sky stopped at the doorway of her room, taking a look around. Six years she spent in this room; it was hard to believe someone else could be living here soon. Rosa would no doubt take the radio on the desk and put it back in storage or somewhere else in the house. Sighing, Sky moved downstairs and announced to Rosa she was ready. The Hispanic woman called her neighbor to watch the orphans and then called for a taxi. Sky loaded her things into the backseat before joining Rosa in the taxi, standing on the seat and leaning out the window. The children of the orphanage called out to her, bidding her goodbye and wishing her good luck. They all assumed she was going to a new family, not to meet a social worker at a courthouse. Still, Sky put on a smile and waved as the taxi pulled away. When the cab rounded a corner, the raven-haired girl sat back in her seat and stared at the ground.
Goodbye Sparky. Goodbye Chug and Mayday and Max and Dottie and Dusty and Leadbottom and Brodi and….everyone… Sky blinked a few times to keep her tears back. Goodbye Skipper.