A Thousand Tomorrows & Just Beyond the Clouds Omnibus (36 page)

“We can pray.” Carl Joseph gave a series of small nods. “We can close our eyes and pray to Jesus.”

Though once in a while Mary would pray in the quiet of her heart, prayer wasn’t mentioned around the Gunner household with any consistency. She smiled at her youngest son. “Okay, honey. You go ahead and pray.”

“Close your eyes.” Carl Joseph waited until she’d closed
them. “Okay. Dear God, here I am. Carl Joseph Gunner. This time I have a prayer for Brother. His name is Cody. Please help him…” He hesitated, as if he were trying to remember what help Cody needed. When he spoke again, his words were rushed and so thick it was hard to understand him. “Oh, yes! Please help him have a fixed heart. So he isn’t mad at me and my friends, and so he doesn’t say it’s crazy. Amen.”

He squeezed Mary’s hands and she opened her eyes. “That was wonderful, Carl Joseph.” Mary pulled him close and hugged him. “How did you learn to pray like that?”

They began walking toward the house again. Carl Joseph shrugged. “It’s a life skill. Teacher says we can’t be independent if we don’t know how to talk to God.”

“Of course.” Mary could barely draw a breath. Carl Joseph went into the house, but she stayed outside on the porch. Prayer, a life skill? She sat on the glider a few feet from the door and stared at the distant mountains. Her fears about Carl Joseph’s independent living had always seemed to be about him. She was afraid he wouldn’t survive without her. But maybe she wasn’t really worried about how Carl Joseph would do without her.

She was worried about how she would do without Carl Joseph.

Which was exactly how Cody was feeling. Now it would be up to her oldest son to see that, too. Because not until Cody understood his own fears would he stop fighting the idea of Carl Joseph’s independence and do the one thing Carl Joseph wanted his brother to do.

Let him go.

Chapter Nine

A
ll weekend, Cody ran from his anger. He didn’t want to talk to his parents, didn’t want to go online and look at studies about independent living or hear testimonials from other people with Down Syndrome. He wanted his brother to stay the way he used to be. Safe and loved and accounted for, without any threat of a life that could bring him harm.

So he spent the weekend with Carl Joseph.

Saturday morning he helped his brother onto Ace and led him around the arena.

“This is a start, right, Brother? Every bull rider starts on a horse, right?”

“Right.” He patted Carl Joseph’s leg as they walked. “Not everyone who gets on a horse can get on a bull, though. You know that, right?”

Carl Joseph didn’t hesitate. “But I will.” He grinned. “Daisy likes bull riders.”

Cody tried another approach. “But you need a bull first.”

That stopped Carl Joseph cold. He frowned, and as he did, he pulled back on the reins. Ace stopped sharply, irritated.

“Buddy, let up. You shouldn’t pull back so hard.”

“Right.” Carl Joseph relaxed his hold. “Sorry.” He gave Cody a concerned look. “Where are we gonna get a bull?”

“We might not get one.” Cody had to be honest. “But that’s okay. Know why?”

“Why?” Disappointment rang in Carl Joseph’s voice. “Daisy likes bull riders.”

“Yeah, but Daisy likes cowboys, too, right? Wasn’t that what you told me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so see!” He took a step to the side and waved his hand at the picture Carl Joseph made atop the horse. “You’re already a cowboy. So she’ll already like you.”

“Oh.” Carl Joseph pondered that for a moment. “I never thought about how she already likes me.”

“Yeah, Buddy.”

“But, Brother”—he knit his brow together, his lips slightly open—“are you still mad at me?” He had asked the question ten times on Saturday alone.

Cody sighed and gripped Carl Joseph’s knee. “No, Buddy. I’m not mad, remember? I was never mad.”

“But you said it was crazy.”

“I was wrong. I’m sorry.” He tightened his hold on the lead rope and tried to think of another way to make his brother understand. “I was having a bad day. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Carl Joseph sounded relieved. He faced straight ahead. “Bad days happen.”

“Yes, Buddy. Bad days happen.”

“Like when Ali died. Ali the horse rider.”

“Yes.” Cody swallowed back the pain. He patted Ace. “Yes, Buddy—like that.”

After riding horses that day, they watched old footage of Cody’s bull-riding days, and then they settled in for back-to-back movies, one of their favorite ways of spending a day together. By Sunday afternoon, Carl Joseph was no longer asking whether Cody was mad or not. It was a victory, and Cody promised himself he would never again act in such a way as to make Carl Joseph doubt him.

But that didn’t mean he was going to sit by and let his brother be pulled along toward some sort of crazy idea of living on his own. He would keep warning his parents of the dangers, begging them to remove Carl Joseph from the center. And he would make the appointment with the teacher—so he could explain his fears in person. When Monday came, he showered and dressed and appeared at the breakfast table, relaxed and smiling.

He hadn’t said more than a few words to his parents all weekend, so his mother gave him a wary glance. “You look nice.”

“Thanks.” He dished himself a bowl of oatmeal and took the seat next to Carl Joseph. The smell of his brother’s cologne was so strong he could taste it, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he smiled. “Buddy and I are going to school together today.”

Carl Joseph looked at Cody for a long moment and then dropped his eyes to his oatmeal. “Right,” he muttered. “Me and Brother are going to school together.”

“Really?” Their mother gave Cody a disapproving look. But when Carl Joseph turned his attention to her, she smiled. “I… I didn’t know that.”

“Well, we are.” Cody kept his tone upbeat. “He’s going to show me what they do at the center.”

“That’s not crazy.” Carl Joseph cast an innocent look at their mother. “Right, Mom?”

“Right. Not at all.”

She waited until they were finished eating. Then she stood and turned to Cody. “I’d like to talk to you for a minute, please.”

“I have to brush my teeth.” Carl Joseph cleared his bowl, rinsed it in the sink, and loaded it into the dishwasher. He didn’t clank his dish or drop anything or let the water run too long. He waved at them and headed down the hall. “Teeth need brushing.”

When he was gone, Cody turned to his mother. “I know what you’re going to say. But it’s my right to go. His teacher asked me to come in before class and talk with her. I want to hear her thoughts on epilepsy.” He walked a few steps toward the dining room, and then back again. “I want her to know that we’re all worried.”

She looked distraught. “Maybe she’ll tell you her plan. She has a way she thinks it could work. Carl Joseph living in a group home, taking medicine for his seizures.”

“No.” Cody said the word a little too loud. He had to keep a grip on his temper. “You can’t let that happen.” He went to her and gently took her hand. “You and Dad need to get him out of that center. It’s only going to hurt him when
he can’t reach Goal Day. And clearly he can’t.” He paused, quieter than before. “That’s what the doctor said, right?”

His mother had never come right out and said so. But now she looked down and after a few seconds she nodded. “Yes. The doctor doesn’t think it’s possible.”

Cody felt the weight of Carl Joseph’s disappointment. He gestured down the hall where Carl Joseph had gone. “Think how hard it’s going to be for him, Mom. When he finds out he can’t live on his own.”

Cody took a breath. “Even if Carl Joseph could manage his epilepsy on his own, he couldn’t live by himself. He couldn’t live in a group home without people helping him every hour of the day.” He looked down the hallway toward Carl Joseph’s room again. “I want to see what this Elle Dalton is teaching them. Let me see a person with Down Syndrome who can manage all those things, and maybe I’ll feel differently.”

His mother held his gaze for a long time. “Okay. Go, then. But your brother’s already nervous. He knows you’re not going just because you’re interested.” She let loose a sad sigh. “He senses everything you feel, Cody. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.” Cody allowed his tone to soften. “I don’t want to fight. It’s Dad who wants Carl Joseph out of the house, not you.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You’re wrong.” Her voice rang with sincerity. “I see what the center has done for Carl Joseph, how it’s made him happier.” She paused. “I want it, too, Cody. Don’t make this a battle with your father. We’re both in this.”

Cody could hear Carl Joseph coming. He didn’t want anything to trouble his brother that morning. “Okay.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“Good.”

They spent the next half hour getting ready. Carl Joseph needed to bring a bag of flour and a bottle of vanilla to class, because Monday was Cooking Day. “We’re making shortcake, Brother,” he said as he rummaged through the kitchen. “Everyone loves shortcake. People at Disneyland love shortcake.”

“Disneyland?” Cody stood back and let his brother do the work. If he wanted to be independent, he needed to be able to locate ingredients in the kitchen.

“Yes.” Carl Joseph heaved a bag of flour onto the counter. He looked intently at the label. “F-l-o-u-r. Flour.” He turned to Cody. “Teacher said she had strawberry shortcake at Disneyland once.”

Carl Joseph set the ingredients in a paper bag, grabbed his backpack, and grinned at Cody. “Time for school.”

The drive to the center took fifteen minutes. The whole time Cody wrestled with his purpose for going. He didn’t care if Carl Joseph knew how to make shortcake. How would that keep him from getting lost or running out of food? How would it help him know how to handle a seizure by himself? What was Elle Dalton teaching her students that would keep them from getting run down by a car on their way out the door of a grocery store?

As they walked up to the center, Carl Joseph twisted his hands together. He stopped just as he reached the door. “Brother, you’re not mad?”

“No, Buddy.” Cody hugged his brother’s shoulders. “I’m not.”

Carl Joseph didn’t look sure. But he nodded anyway. “Good.”

“Let’s go in, okay?” Cody was suddenly anxious to let the teacher know he was there.

“Okay, right. Let’s go in.” Carl Joseph opened the door and led the way.

Inside the room was full-blown chaos. Loud music filled the place, and even louder voices and laughter. There were more than a dozen young adults with Down Syndrome—the same students who had been on the Subway field trip. A few were sitting on an old sofa, talking animatedly to each other, and three others were huddled over a stuffed turtle, laughing their heads off.

In another corner of the room were Daisy and three students, all of them swaying and twirling and clapping to various rhythms in the loud music. An able-bodied older woman was talking with two students at the far end of the room, but no one seemed to be in charge.

Carl Joseph gave him a nervous look. “Free time comes first.”

Cody could barely hear him. “I see that.” He was about to find a seat where he wouldn’t be noticed, when Daisy spotted him.

Her eyes grew wide and her mouth came all the way open. “Carl Joseph brought his brother to class!” She skipped toward Cody, took his hand, and began pumping it. “I’m Daisy. Remember me?”

“Yes.” Cody was very comfortable around Carl Joseph. When he looked at his brother, he never saw a handicapped person, but only the kid who adored him. But he didn’t know Daisy. He tried to hide his discomfort. “I remember you, Daisy.”

She came closer and made a dramatic show of smelling him. Then she nodded her head at Carl Joseph. “You’re right, CJ. He smells like a bull rider, same as you.”

The other students gradually stopped whatever they’d been doing and gathered around Cody and Carl Joseph. One stepped up, his expression blank. “I’m Gus.”

“Hi, Gus.” Cody shook his hand.

“So you like us now? But not the other day?” Gus looked at the other students around him. “Carl Joseph’s brother doesn’t like us, that’s what we said at Subway.”

“I liked you then, too.” He laughed, but it sounded weak. “I was in a hurry the other day. I’m sorry about that.”

“We prayed for you.” A girl with long brown braids waved her hand. “You might not have life skills so we prayed.”

Cody felt his cheeks grow hot. The entire class had prayed for him because he didn’t have the life skills to be cordial? That had to be Elle Dalton’s doing. He was about to ask where she was, when he spotted her near a doorway at the back of the room. Her eyes met his, but she directed her words to the students. “Okay, everyone. Let’s give our visitor some space.” She turned off the music and moved to a section of the room with two rows of chairs and an oversized blackboard. “We’re getting a new bus route today. Everyone find your seats.”

She held Cody’s eyes a little longer and then turned to her students, making small talk with them. As Cody watched her, something inside him stirred. She was the enemy, no doubt. She was willing to risk Carl Joseph’s life to see her idea of independence played out. But there was no denying that she cared for her students. She took time with each of them, speaking to them at an adult level instead of talking down to them the way people did who weren’t used to being around someone with Down Syndrome. And from his place by the door, Cody couldn’t help but notice something else.

Elle Dalton was beautiful. Breathtaking, even.

Not in the way some girls were, with flashy clothes and makeup and jewelry. She had a quiet beauty about her, and something that could only have come from inside. Cody clenched his teeth and turned away. None of that mattered. He wasn’t here to admire her.

Cody turned his attention to his brother. Carl Joseph was sitting next to Daisy, talking with his hands. His cheeks were red and his smile took up his entire face. Cody realized what was happening. Carl Joseph didn’t come to the center to learn about independence. He came because of Daisy. This was his first crush, and that was innocent enough. He watched his brother for another minute, watched him play with Daisy’s hair and her hands. It might be innocent, but where could it possibly lead?