“I don't know what I know!” he raged at both of them, “except that you're both two damn lying fools, and I'm telling you right now I forbid you to fly, Cassandra Maureen.” He looked straight at her as he said it, and then at Nick. “And I'm not going to put up with any nonsense from you, you damn fool, Nick Galvin, do you hear me?”

“You're dead wrong!” Nick was insistent, but Pat was too livid to listen.

“I don't give a damn what you think. You're a bigger idiot than she is. She's not flying my planes at my airport. And if you're fool enough to fly her in your own, somewhere else, then I lay the responsibility on your head if you kill her, and it's your own damn fault, if she kills you, which she will undoubtedly. There isn't a woman alive who can fly worth a damn, and you know it.” He had just knocked out, with a single blow, an entire generation of extraordinary women, and among them his own daughter. But he didn't care. That was what he believed, and no one was going to tell him any different.

“Let me take her up and show you, Pat. She can fly anything we've got. She's got a sense of speed and height that relies on her gut and her eyes, more than on anything she sees on the controls. Pat, she's terrific.”

“You're not going to show me anything, and I don't want to see it. Couple of damn fools… I suppose she's bamboozled you into all this.” He looked at his daughter with total fury. As far as he was concerned, it was all her fault. She was a stubborn little monster, determined to kill herself with her father's planes and right at his own airport.

“She didn't bamboozle me into anything. I saw her scud running a year ago, in that storm she got herself into with Chris, and I knew damn well he wasn't flying the plane. I figured if I didn't step in, she'd kill both of them, so I started teaching her then.”

“That was Chris flying in that storm last year,” her father argued defiantly.

“It was not!” Nick shouted back at him, furious now himself at how unreasonable Pat was prepared to be, and all to support an outdated position. “How blind can you be? The boy's got no guts, no hands. All he can do is run straight up and down, like an elevator, just like he did for you at the air show. What on Cod's earth makes you think he could have gotten them out of that storm? That was Cassie.” He looked at her possessively, and he was surprised to see that she was crying in the face of her father's fury.

“It was, Dad,” she said quietly. “It was me. Nick knew. He confronted me when we came down, and-”

“I won't listen to this. You're a liar on top of everything else, Cassandra Maureen, trying to take the glory from your own brother.” The force of his accusations took her breath away, and told her again how hopeless it was to try to convince him. Maybe one day, but not now. And never seemed more likely.

“Give her a chance, Pat.” Nick was trying to calm him down again, but it was useless. “Please. Just let her show you her stuff. She deserves that. And next year, I'd like to put her in the air show.”

“You're both daft, is what you are. Two brazen fools. What makes you think she wouldn't kill herself, and me, and you, and a dozen other people at the air show?”

“Because she flies better than anyone you've ever seen there.” Nick tried to stay calm, but he was losing control slowly. Pat was not an easy man, and this was a very volatile subject. “She flies better than Rickenbacker, for chrissake. Just let her show you.” But he had uttered the ultimate sacrilege this time, in invoking the name of the commander of the 94th Aero Squadron. Nick knew he'd pushed too far, and Pat stalked off and left them, and went back to his office. He never looked back at them, and he never said another word to his daughter.

She was crying openly by then, and Nick came to put an arm around her.

“Christ, your father is a stubborn man. I'd forgotten how impossible he can be when he gets something in his teeth. But I'll get him yet on this one. I promise.” He gave her a squeeze and she smiled through her tears. If she had been Chris, her father would have let her show him anything at all. But not now, not ever, not her, because she was a girl. It was so unfair, but she knew that nothing would change him.

“He'll never give in, Nick.”

“He doesn't have to. You're eighteen. You can do what you want, you know. You're not doing anything wrong. You're taking flying lessons. So what? Okay? Relax.” And very shortly she'd have her own license. She was more than qualified for it. When Pat had started flying in 1914, he hadn't even needed a license to fly then.

“What if he throws me out of the house?” She looked terrified and Nick laughed. He knew Pat better than that, and so did she. He made a lot of noise, and he was limited in his ideas and beliefs, but he loved his children.

“He's not going to do that, Cass. He may make you miserable for a while. But he's not going to throw you out. He loves you.”

“He loves Chris,” she said glumly.

“He loves you too. He's just a little behind the times, and stubborn as hell. Christ, sometimes he drives me crazy.”

“Me too.” She smiled and blew her nose, and then she looked up at Nick with worried eyes. “Will you still teach me?”

“Of course,” he grinned, looking boyish and full of mischief, and then he pretended to look at her sternly. “And don't let everything I said go to your head. You don't fly like the leader of the great 94th,” he scowled at her, and then grinned. “But you could be better than he was one day, if you'd clean up some of those turns and listen to your instructor.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go wash your face, you look terrible… Ill see you at the airstrip tomorrow, Cass.” He smiled at her. “Don't forget, we have an air show to prepare for.” She looked gratefully at him, as he strode away, wondering what it would take to bring Pat O'Malley to his senses.

He had certainly not come to them that night when he refused to say a word to her at their dinner table. He had told Oona what she'd done, and her mother cried when she heard it. Pat had convinced her long since that women were not constitutionally or mentally cut out to fly airplanes.

“It's just too dangerous,” she tried to explain to Cassie later that night in her room. With her sisters married and gone, Cassie had long since had her own bedroom.

“It's no more dangerous for me than it is for Chris,” Cassie said through tears again. She was exhausted from fighting with them, and she knew she'd never win. Even Chris had said nothing in her defense. He hated getting into arguments with their parents.

“That's not true,” her mother countered what she'd said. “Chris is a man. It's less dangerous for a man to fly,” her mother said as though it were gospel truth, because she'd heard it from her husband.

“How can you say that? That's nonsense.”

“It's not. Your father says that women don't have the concentration.”

“Mom, that's a lie. I swear. Look at all the women who fly. Great ones.”

“Look at Amelia Earhart, dear. She's a perfect example of what your father says. She obviously lost her direction, or her wits, somewhere out there, and she took that poor man with her.”

“How do you know their disappearance wasn't his fault?” Cassie said persistently. “He was the navigator, not Earhart. And maybe they were shot down,” Cass said sadly. She knew she wasn't getting anywhere. Her mother was completely convinced of everything her husband had always told her.

“You have to stop behaving this way, Cassie. I should never have let you loll around at the airport all these years. But you loved it so, and I thought it would be nice for your father. But you have to give up these foolish dreams, Cassie. You're a college girl now. One day you'll be a teacher. You can't go flying around like some silly gypsy.”

“Oh yes, I can… dammit, yes I can!” Cassie raised her voice to her, and a moment later her father was in her room, berating her again, and telling her that she had to apologize to her mother. Both women were crying by then, and Pat was at his wit's end, and clearly livid.

“I'm sorry, Mom,” she said mournfully.

“And well you should be,” her father said before he slammed the door again. A moment later her mother left, and Cassie lay on the bed and sobbed, from the sheer frustration of dealing with her parents.

When Bobby Strong came by later that night, Cassie had Chris tell him that she had a terrible headache. He drove away looking concerned, after leaving her a note, telling her that he hoped she felt better soon, and he'd be back tomorrow.

“Maybe tomorrow I'll be dead,” she said glumly as she read the note her brother handed her. “Maybe that would be an improvement.”

“Relax, Sis. They'll get over it,” Chris said calmly.

“No, they won't. Dad never will. He refuses to believe women can fly, or do anything except knit and have babies.”

“Sounds great. So how's your knitting?” he teased, and she threw a shoe at him, as he closed the door to escape her.

But by the next day she felt better again. She felt like herself, once she and Nick took off in the Bellanca. He didn't feel he should let her fly any of her father's planes now. She handled it skillfully as usual, and just being in the air with Nick lifted her spirits. Afterward, they sat in the old truck for a while, talking, and Cassie seemed subdued. She was still obviously upset about her father's reaction to her flying.

“As good as Rickenbacker, huh?” she teased Nick after their flying.

“I told you not to let it go to your head. I was just lying to impress him.”

“He sure looked impressed, don't you think?” Cassie grinned ruefully, and Nick laughed. She was a good sport, and sooner or later they'd wear Pat down. He couldn't keep his head in the sand forever, or could he?