The Aviator Cap

Mrs. Green got up early on Tuesday morning and crawled way back in the deep closet in the guest room. She had to climb over shoes and boxes of clothes. When she got to the very back of the closet she sat on the floor with a flashlight in her hand. She opened a blue bin. She pulled out Windy, her very favorite doll from when she was little. She pulled out a stack of books snugly tied together with a ribbon. She carefully pulled out a package, neatly wrapped in tissue paper. She gently pulled back the folds of the tissue paper. She ran her fingers gently over the contents, held it up to her nose, and took a deep breath. It was an aviator’s cap. It was special.

Mrs. Green’s mother had made the cap for her. It had long ear flaps and a leather strap to go under her chin. From the time Mrs. Green was six until she was about 10, she wore this cap all the time. She climbed trees in it, dug in the dirt, stomped in puddles, built forts, and rode her bicycle up and down the street for hours. There was something wonderful about this cap with the long flaps and the leather strap. When Mrs. Green put it on she felt free. She didn’t care what people thought of her. She didn’t think about who was watching. She got lost in her imagination. Mrs. Green worked out everything that stirred inside her in this cap.


This Tuesday morning something was stirring inside Mrs. Green. When something stirred inside Mrs. Green, she could not ignore it. It was not in her nature. Mrs. Green did not ignore anything.

Mrs. Green took the cap and with just as much determination as when she was six, she put it over her gray crazy hair, sticking out from the sides and twisting and turning in every direction. She climbed out of the closet, put on her jacket and her long leather cloves that reminded her of Amelia Earhart, and went outside. Mrs. Green hopped on the wonderful three wheeled bicycle Mr. Green had given her for her birthday. Up and down the street Mrs. Green peddled in the cool air. The flaps on her aviators cap flew back behind her ears. Mrs. Green leaned into the wind. Her eyes watered, her hair blew.

No one knew what Mrs. Green was working out as she peddled up and down the block. Just one thing was clear. What ever the stirring was inside of her, she would not ignore it. On this Tuesday morning,  Mrs. Green  was determined to feel free. She didn’t care what people thought of her. She didn’t think about who was watching. She got lost in her imagination. Mrs. Green was working out the stirring inside of her, just as she did when she was six.


Copyright Terri Neagle Donaldson 2015

Terri Neagle Donaldson and Stressfreestories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Terri Neagle Donaldson and Stressfreestories with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


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