Sir Fig Newton and the Science of Persistence: Chapters 31–38

I stomped to my bedroom and yanked the Kennedy Space Center photo from my dresser. Thomas and me, with Fig snuggled in my arms, along with two blobs where my parents used to be. Once again I ground the black
 marker across the matte finish, this time until Thomas disappeared.

I compelled my hand to stroke his fur, and Fig started his revved-up-engine purr.

He always knew how I felt, and I’d gotten pretty good at figuring out most of his looks and quirks.

I hugged my midsection, my indestructible miranium demeanor wavering.

His favorite song, “Give Up the Funk,” blared.

A steady breeze offset the afternoon heat.

“If you think my hair’s voluminous, you’ve never witnessed my cheeks after I ingest some nuts.”

“But even more dire? Dairy makes me puke, and Doritos...let’s just say it’s quite atrocious.”

“Well, not technically allergic, but they give me digestive issues that, um… You know like when tiny amounts of hydrogen, carbon dioxide, and methane combine with hydrogen sulfide and ammonia in the large intestine?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but assorted emotions—anger, loneliness, jealousy, heartache—kept changing what I wanted to say.

Maybe I could sugarcoat my fears in a way to make it easier for Dad to digest.

I paused and looked toward my bedroom, hoping Fig would come sprinting down the hall, meowing for his food, and quash my churning worries.

I rose to the surface, shaking out my curls. Tamika threw me a bewildered stare. “How peculiar. Never met a Black girl who gets her hair wet on purpose.”

“Do you think we’ll ever travel faster than light?”
“Relativity already determined that no one can travel faster than light,” Tamika affirmed.

Our scientific debate continued on, covering some of the basic topics like “What if we could break an atom in half, over and over, beyond subatomic particles like strange quarks, until—POOF—it was gone?” and “Since there are billions of rats in the world and only about 500,000 apes, and rodents are just as smart as apes, why wasn’t the movie Planet of the Rats instead?”

“She says that two plus two can sometimes equal five.”
“Ludicrous,” Tamika huffed.

I snacked on an orange, mulling over Tamika’s flower and Mrs. Smith’s Waffle House encounter.

Rainbow-colored crepe party streamers were draped across the family room walls.

We couldn’t really afford takeout. Dad had gotten it because he’d felt bad about my hysterics over the scratched disc. I might have been sick of mangled meat loaf and puked-up sloppy joes, but Dad’s guilt was not the way I wanted to get edible food back in my life.

“I know Mira raised all that money, but don’t you think it’s a bit premature to get takeout?” Mom said in that exasperated “I’ve reached my limit” tone.

Mom dribbled sauce onto her spring roll and tore into it with such aggression that I jumped in my seat.

My anger fueled my hurried gait and the pounding thought that I would never be all good if I lost Fig.

Sir Fig Newton lay on my unmade bed, preening with intense resolve.

Sir Fig Newton lay on my unmade bed, preening with intense resolve.

My anger subsided, and I realized that my outburst at Mom had been over-the-top harsh.

She tried to mask the downward spiral of the conversation with a sympathetic smile, but we both knew what the ultimate outcome could end up being.

I lay on my bed, my arms and legs splayed out like a star.

His body writhed, and the most disturbing retching sounds poured out of his gaping jaws.

The hydrogen, carbon dioxide, and methane in my gut churned. Even though I was strong like miranium, I was more scared than ever.

I hated to admit it, but I was intrigued.

I moseyed toward my desk and lightly picked up a cookie, afraid that its very touch might bruise my skin.

“Today’s been rough,” I sighed, heeding Fig’s request.

Poultry by-product meal, soy protein isolate, corn gluten meal, soy flour.

My nerves and the phone cord unfurled.

Feet pounded against the cement floor as kids and parents ventured among seven areas, exploring different aspects of life in space, learning about the challenges of space travel, and imagining a future where Earth was not the only planet humans called home.

We wandered over to the first area—Space Is Dangerous—and watched a video of a hole being blown through a thick metal plate by a simulated meteoroid.

Feeling energized, I impulsively hugged Tamika during the slow-motion impact.

We’d learned about astronomy: stuff like gravity, sound waves, and space warps.

5:41 a.m. There had been a time when I’d loathed such rude awakenings. Now, however, I greeted Sir Fig Newton’s head bump with a joyous scratch behind his ear.

We were even collaborating with other students to host our school’s first Earth Day celebration, where students could share their concerns and brainstorm ideas to help make a difference in our community.