Call-Sign? Wolf.

Pilot

Cherry red, 1968, Ford Mustang Fastback Shelby GT 500.

My moms most prized possession.

For a while I remember it just being me and my mom. When my mom was pregnant, My dad died in a horrible plane accident, leaving just the two of us girls getting into heaps of trouble together. My earliest memories are being babysat by my moms coworkers while she was busy inside the capitol doing important work.
Because I didn't see my mom much, I constantly held on to a stuffed grey wolf. The animal never left my hands. I would prop it up on the table when eating and play with it outside. It had become a major comfort mechanism in my early childhood days.

A man I had never met before came to greet my mom one day, asking if he could watch me for a couple hours. He said he had to practice because he had a baby on the way. I remember feeling the stiff and grainy material of the clothes the man wore as I complained about the heat outside. When my eyes adjusted to the sun, there it was; An F-14.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, I completely forgot that toy existed. I dropped it to the ground and wriggled from the man's arms in a full on sprint towards the plane.

He crawled up into the cockpit with me in his lap and let me control the planes joystick. I remember feeling overjoyed by the feeling of being inside of that closed and tight space. I knew in my gut it's where I belonged.

My mother was furious, of course, that her friend had taken me outside without her knowing. But seeing the smile on my face as I wiggled around the joystick and the large helmet fell in front of my eyes, her mind quickly changed. My mom picked up my toy wolf and brought it to the plane. She always explained the interaction between her and the man as such a turning moment in my life as well as hers.

"She's a natural, Charlotte. Just wait 'till she's old enough to fly one." 

"I haven't seen this stuffed animal leave her hands in so long, it's such a nice sight."

The man flipped me around to face him, lifting me into the air to make me pretend that I was flying. I erupted with giggles, sticking my arms out like the airplane.

"Well let me be the first to give her a call sign then." The man said.

My mom laughed. "Call sign? What could iceman possibly want to call my daughter?"

"Wolf. It's already been decided. I'll help her be the best pilot in the program. She'll even pass me in the top gun records." He spoke as though it were a long lost dream of his, to teach. But Iceman was moving up in scansion, he didn't have time to do so.

"You'd do that for me and my girl?"

"Of course, Charlie. Anything for you."

In high school I played all four years of volleyball as well as two years in middle school. In addition to that I also took strength training classes where I lifted weights and worked out with all the other boys sports. There were a couple girls from my team in my class, but none of them pushed me as hard as the boys did.

I mostly focused on upper body. Arms, chest, back, core, all to prepare me for one faithful day junior year. The day that the recruiting scouts for the army came it set up their pull up bar.

They offered a free T-shirt to any student who could do over 10 pull-ups. I stood in a line of boys, confident and ready. I got up to the bar, looking up at its height. I got up on the stool and grasped the bar firmly. 10 pull-ups came easily to me. From behind i could hear some of my friends in my weights class cheering me on. I made it to 27 before I finally gave up.

I was frustrated with myself that I couldn't make it to 30, but seeing the smiles on the recruitment officers faces made that disappointment completely disappeared. A few weeks later, a recruitment package showed up in my mailbox. My mom and I were elated. I know I know, they probably send them to every kid who puts their name and address down for the pull-up challenge but it still felt good.