In “Flyboys,” sandwiches serve as a symbol of domestic care and presence—or lack thereof. The initial mention of sandwiches occurs when the narrator is at Clark’s house, where he takes a break from working on the plane design to wander the house. No one else is home, so the narrator makes himself a sandwich in the kitchen, which he eats as he flips through the family’s photo albums. At Clark’s house, all the ingredients to make a sandwich are there, but there is no adult present to put it together. In the same way, Clark has grown up with an abundance of possessions and privilege, but the utter lack of parental presence in his home has left him to figure out how to function and sustain himself on his own.
At Freddy’s house, however, even when Freddy’s mom is in the throes of crippling grief over Tanker’s death, the narrator remembers how she used to come out every once and a while to offer the boys a sandwich. Despite the difficult hand she has been dealt, she still makes every effort to show care and support, both feeding and supporting her son with the little she has.
Sandwiches are not mentioned in relation to the narrator’s mother, but this reflects the underlying trauma that the narrator experiences in his home life, though that home life is never actually shown in the story. Whatever is or is not lacking in his home, the narrator goes to other peoples’ home to be fed. This is true both literally and figuratively—he never eats, let alone engages with a member of his own family in the story, instead spending his time observing other families. The implication is that the narrator understands, mostly subconsciously, that his family is on the verge of collapsing and that they may leave town soon—that the sustenance he needs can’t be found at the moment in his family.
Sandwiches Quotes in Flyboys
I formed the habit of making myself a sandwich and settling back in the leather chair in the den, where I listened to old records and studied the family photo albums. They were lucky people, Clark’s parents, lucky and unsurprised by their luck. You could see in the pictures that they took it all in stride, the big spreads behind them, the boats and cars, and their relaxed handsome families who, it was clear, did not get laid off, or come down with migraines, or lock each other out of the houses. I pondered each picture as if it were a door I might enter, until something turned in me and I grew irritable. Then I put the albums away and went back to Clark’s room to inspect his work and demand revisions.
She turned to me, her eyes so sad I had to force myself not to look away. “I can’t get over how you’ve grown,” she said. “Freddy, hasn’t he grown?”
“Like a weed,” Freddy said.
“By leaps and bounds,” I said, falling into our old game in spite of myself.
Clark looked back and forth between us.
Sometimes she came out to offer us a sandwich and ask us questions about our day, but I wished she wouldn’t. I had never seen such sorrow; it appalled me. And I was even more appalled by her attempts to overcome it, because they so plainly, pathetically failed, and in failing opened up the view of a world I had only begun to suspect, where wounds did not heal, and things did not work out for the best.
Sandwiches Symbol Timeline in Flyboys
