Carissa's Law

by Misty Boyd

  Chapter 7

  Carissa arrived at class early Wednesday. She was excited to see Isaac. She wasn’t even trying to hide it. She had gotten up early, put on makeup, worn her best top, and made it to class in good time.

  She rolled down the hallway like lightning and, zooming around the corner, she took her seat and waited. He would be here soon. But thirty minutes into class, he hadn’t arrived. She wondered what had happened. Maybe she had been so weird he had dropped the class and signed up for an Algebra class across town. Yeah, that had to be it. She was always so weird around boys.

  High school hadn’t helped. She had dated some, but the boys she dated were always so strange about touching her, even holding her hand, like she was fragile or something. Like they might break her. She hated it! All she wanted was a real boyfriend who wasn’t afraid to treat her like a real girlfriend. Instead, they were always so standoffish and skittish around her. She thought maybe Isaac would be different, but skipping class to avoid her sure pointed in another direction. Oh, well, same story, different prince.

  The rest of class was boring and went mostly over her head. She had never been good at math. She didn’t know how she would get through the rest of the semester. Day Two, and she was already drowning in a sea of letters and numbers that made no sense to her. She needed a miracle. Or maybe she didn’t, if Dr. Taylor was right. Maybe she’d have to drop the whole semester. She hoped not, but it had happened before. She had missed most of sixth grade due to hospital stays. It was always a possibility.

  “Don’t borrow trouble,” she reminded herself as she got in her car to go home.

  At home, Carissa found her mother chopping what seemed like an entire garden into a giant pot. It smelled magnificent. She was pretty certain she smelled a yeasty aroma wafting through the air from a hidden loaf of fresh bread. “Smells good, Mom! What’s cooking?”

  “Stone soup!” Sarah answered, her back still turned to her vegetables and pot. Stone soup was another one of Carissa’s favorites. It was potatoes (stones) and every other vegetable under the sun in a rich, flavorful tomato-based broth. At least that was Sarah’s version. Carissa didn’t know how anyone else did it, and she didn’t care. Her mom’s was the best version. She allowed it to simmer on the stove all day, and Carissa liked to come by periodically and “check the seasoning for her,” basically just an excuse to dip a hunk of fresh bread in and get a taste before dinner. It was a tough job but, as they said, someone had to do it.

  “Great! My soul could use some stone soup,” Carissa said, unable to hide the crack of disappointment in not seeing Isaac today. She hoped Sarah was too distracted by the celery to hear it. Her mom stopped chopping and turned around. Guess not.

  “Honey, are you still worried about what Dr. Taylor said? It’s going to be okay. We discussed this. Give it to God, and don’t borrow trouble. We still don’t know.”

  Carissa shook her head. “No, Mom. I’m fine about that. It’s nothing. It’s probably nothing.”

  “What, baby, are you sick? Are you having symptoms of this tethered cord thing? If you’re sick, I can call…”

  “No. I’m not sick. It’s math stuff. I’ll be okay. Math is rough. That’s all,” she lied. She hated lying, but she knew she was being ridiculous about this boy she’d met one time. It’s not like he had even hinted toward wanting more than a study partner, but he’d treated her differently. He saw her. He looked at her face, not her chair, and he wasn’t afraid of her. For once, around a boy, she had felt just like Carissa. It was nice; it was easy. But she couldn’t explain that to her mother. She wouldn’t understand.

  “Okay, hon, math stuff it is, even if it isn’t. My only advice is to take it to God. He’ll help you, and I’m still here if you want to talk about ‘math’ stuff. I love you. I’ll call you for dinner.”

  That hadn’t gone well. Her mother hadn’t believed a word she said, but at least she got off her back pretty easily. That was one thing about her mom. She always knew, but she never pried.

  Carissa went off to her room to study her math lesson and to stew about what she may have done to push Isaac away. One class was all he could stand with her. That must be some kind of record. At least the boys in high school didn’t drop out when they met her; they just ignored her. Oh, well, moving on. Another one bites the dust.

  She cracked open her math book, and the letters and numbers once again began to swirl in patterns she couldn’t understand. She might as well have been trying to study a foreign language, except she had always been pretty successful with those. This language was completely alien. She didn’t know how she’d ever get through it.

  Two hours later, she found herself being startled awake by a knock on her bedroom door. “Carissa, dinner! It may not be good, though. Mom said she never once caught you checking her seasoning!”

  Coming out of her deep sleep, she mumbled something that loosely resembled, “Coming, Dad!” and wiped the drool off her face. She made her way to the dinner table, still delirious from being awakened so suddenly. Math was the most boring topic ever. She didn’t know how anyone stayed awake.

  “Hey, kid! Mom says you’re having math problems. Get it? Math… problems? Get it?” He gently slugged her in the arm, she guessed, to make sure she got the joke. “Math problems, Dad. Dad jokes? Really? Calm down.” He was so cheesy, but she loved him. Other kids she knew didn’t have dads like him. He was a special kind of cheese. Maybe a little stinky, but still good.

  “Well, if you need help, I’m here. It’s been a while since I took college classes, but I still have a good brain between these ears. You let me know.”

  “Got it, Dad.”

  Sarah put out the bowls for the soup, and Jim carried over the heavy pot and put it on the table. Jim blessed the food and, in no time, Carissa was dipping chunks of bread into a bowl of Heaven. She loved this stuff. It was good for a rough day of boys and Algebra.

  In the middle of dinner, the house phone rang. Carissa was sure her parents were the only ones on the planet who still paid for a house phone. Soon, she thought, the phone company would have to cut it off, just to bring them into this century.

  “I’ll get it,” Mom said, as she sprang up from the table. “Hello? Yes. This is she. Yes. What? Hold on.” She took the phone into the living room.

  Chapter 8

  After several minutes, Sarah came back to the dinner table and sat, replacing her napkin in her lap.

  “Who was it?” Carissa asked.

  “That was DeeJae, Dr. Taylor’s nurse. She set up an appointment for a MRI on Friday, as well as a consult with Dr. Brock, the neurosurgeon there at the hospital, on Monday. I’m coming with you.”

  “Mom, you don’t have to come. I’m eighteen. I’ll be fine.” But secretly Carissa was glad for her mother’s insistence. No matter how grown up she tried to be, a girl could still be comforted by her mother. A mom hug could turn anything into something hopeful.

  “I’m coming, and that’s that.” Sarah picked up her spoon, putting an end to the discussion.

  Carissa silently thanked God for the pushback. “Okay, Mom. If you must.”

  The rest of dinner passed with more casual conversation about Jim’s day at work and Sarah’s hilarious picture hanging efforts in the living room. When everyone finished, Carissa took the soup bowls from the table to the sink and Jim cleared the table of everything else.

  “Anybody up for a game of Monopoly?” Sarah asked. “Carissa’s the banker. Gotta practice that Algebra!”.

  “Mom!”

  “I’m in!” Jim replied.

  They settled in for some good family competition, which usually resulted in Jim losing his good Christian values for a moment. Nothing too bad, but until you’ve heard your dad call your mom a slimy mashed potato face, have you really even played Monopoly? Carissa loved evenings like this.

  “I’m the car!” Jim insisted, grabbing the car out of the box before anyone could protest. “And you’re all getting run over tonight!”
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br />   Carissa and Sarah both rolled their eyes at him and picked out their game pieces from what was left. The money was dealt out and the game began, Jim insisting on going first, as usual. Nobody minded. Carissa and Sarah both knew it was all in good fun, and Jim was the only one who really cared about the outcome of the game anyway. For Carissa, just spending time with her parents was what it was all about.

  When Jim finally won, as he inevitably did, Sarah packed up the game.

  “Well, I’m going to bed,” Carissa said as the last piece of the board game was stowed. “Early class in the morning. Goodnight!”

  “Goodnight, Carissa,” Sarah replied, picking up the game box and putting it back on the closet shelf with the rest of the games. “And, if you want to talk about that ‘math’ problem, or any other problem, we’re here. You know that. Love you, kid!”

  “I know, Mom. See you in the morning.” Carissa went off to take her meds and do her nighttime routine. When her chores were completed, she stretched out on her bed and fell fast asleep.

  Chapter 9

  “So what do you think is going on with her? Do you think it’s this tethered cord thing? She seems off,” Sarah said to Jim as she fluffed the pillows on her side of the bed. “Something’s up. I know my baby, and this ain’t her.”

  “I don’t know, hon. She seems okay to me, but women smell things on each other, or something.” Jim emptied his pockets on the dresser top as he got ready for bed. “I’ve never understood how you can just know by looking at her that something’s not right. I don’t get it, but I trust you. If you say something’s up, something’s up. What do you think it is?”

  Sarah walked into the bathroom, undressing as she went. She lifted her pink satin nightgown off the hook on the back of the door and slipped into it. “I dunno, Jim. It’s just that, since she started college, she’s been different. I hope it’s not too much for her. Do you think we should have let her take a year off?” She paused while she brushed her teeth, then came back into the bedroom. “Is she ready for this? Higher level classes… all the social pressure? I just don’t know. That’s my baby in there. I just want to protect her.”

  “I’m sure she can handle college. She’s handled everything she’s been handed so far, and she always comes out on top. You’ve seen how strong she is.” Jim took his turn in the bathroom, still talking through the open door. “Now we just have to trust that we’ve done our best with her. We’ve raised her to know she can come to us. We’ve raised her to know the Lord. We’ve raised a strong, independent woman. Now, she’s flying. Even if we want to grab onto her wings, we can’t protect her from everything. Whatever it is, she’ll either come to us, or she’ll handle it. Gotta trust her, Mama.”

  She heard the sound of water running as he brushed his teeth, and waited until she knew he could hear her again.

  “I know. I can’t protect her from everything, but something’s wrong. A mom knows.” Sarah was frustrated, and she didn’t like it. She sat down on the edge of the bed, exasperated.

  Jim slid into bed beside her, pulling her down into his embrace. “Get some sleep, Sarah. It’ll work out. Carissa doesn’t know any other way. She’s built like her mama. Schultz tough.”

  “Goodnight, Jim. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Chapter 10

  It was getting close to dinner time, and Isaac decided on ordering a pizza instead of cooking or asking his mom to cook anything. He grabbed his phone, and scrolled to the number already saved for times such as this. When the man on the other end answered, Isaac put in his regular order of a small supreme pizza for his mom and a small pepperoni for himself.

  Cindy, the caregiver, had not shown up for the morning or night shift. Isaac planned to call the agency again in the morning and see if he couldn’t arrange for another caregiver to start soon. While they waited on the delivery, he decided to discuss the ins and outs with his mom. He didn’t understand why it was so hard to just show up to a job. It wasn’t like taking care of his mom was difficult. She didn’t even need any real medical care. It was mostly lifting. She was completely independent in most of her care. She did most things herself.

  “Ma, I’m going to call in the morning to see if the agency has another nurse to send out. You remember last time we had such a hard time getting someone out here. If I have to, I’ll just stay home until we find someone reliable. I’ll call my teachers and see if I can get extensions on all my work.”

  “Honey, I don’t want you to have to do that.” She shifted in her chair. “I can manage until someone comes.”

  “You can’t manage,” he replied, leaning against the kitchen counter and shoving his hands into his pockets. “That’s three hours you’d be here by yourself. What if you fell trying to transfer from your chair to… well, anywhere? You’re not as steady as you used to be. You can’t manage on your own. I have to know you’re okay, and I won’t leave you alone for that long. It’s either me or a caregiver and, until we find a decent caregiver, you only have the one choice.”

  “Isaac, I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me.” She shifted again, and wrung her hands uncomfortably.

  “Ma, we’re in this together. This isn’t my life or your life. It’s our life. I’m going to do what I have to do to make sure you’re taken care of,” he insisted, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets.

  The argument was put on hold by a ring of the doorbell. Dinner was here. Isaac stepped away from the counter and headed toward the door. The pizza guy was a short, rotund man with brown hair mostly covered by a “Dave’s Pizza World” baseball cap. After a short exchange of words and money, Isaac came back to the table with the steaming pizza and set it down, taking the chair across from his mother. They ate in silence, neither of them wanting to admit that Isaac was right. His mother couldn’t make it on her own. If Isaac couldn’t find her a caregiver, his medical career might be over before it started. When they finished eating, Isaac cleared the table and put what was left of the pizza in the refrigerator.

  “Let’s get you ready for bed, Ma. Do you want a shower?” he asked as he turned toward her and walked her direction.

  “Yes, boy, I sure could use one.” She grabbed her wheels and pushed off from the table, heading toward her bedroom. Isaac followed and helped her out of her chair onto her shower chair when she got to the bathroom connected to her room. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he bent down, and he easily lifted her from one chair to the other. He kept her dressed so she could have her privacy.

  “Let me know if you need any help,” he called out as he left her to herself. He closed the door behind him and sat on her bed to wait for her to finish.

  When she had completed her bath, he heard her call out, and he went in with her polka dot nightgown held out in front of him so she could dress herself. “Sorry,” he said, “I guess we both forgot to grab this on the way in here. I’ll go so you can put it on. I’m right outside the door.”

  He left and took his place on the bed again, thinking of what she would do if he weren’t around. Before long, his thoughts were interrupted by another call from the bathroom, and he went to get her. They repeated the same transfer process to get her back into her chair and she pushed herself to the bed. Once there, Isaac carefully lifted her into the unmade bed and covered her up. It was a process they had memorized. They had done it a million times, since Isaac had grown to be bigger than his mother was. It required no words anymore, just well-rehearsed movements. When she was tucked in, Isaac kissed her on the forehead.

  “Goodnight, Ma. I’ll call in the morning and see if the agency has a more reliable nurse for you, but I doubt they have anyone you haven’t run off yet!”

  “You hush, boy, before I run your crazy self off,” she ordered. “Go to bed. I love you.”

  “Love you, too, Ma!”

  He went to his room, feeling angry about how his mom and other disabled people were treated. It was a shame, and it wasn’t fair, although his mom was f
ond of telling him life wasn’t fair. Still, this was his mom, and she deserved better than this.

  After he climbed into bed, his mind drifted back to Carissa. He put his arms under his head, staring toward the ceiling and wondering what it was about her. He hated not being able to see her today. He would have bought her a hundred chocolate chip muffins just to see her smile again. He had never fallen so hard for a girl, and it had only been one day! Maybe it was because she was so passionate. She knew what she wanted, and she was going after it.

  Could that be it? He didn’t know. But he knew he had to get back to that Algebra class. He couldn’t wait until Monday. He knew that was the first time in his life he’d ever had that thought. Maybe he’d ask her out for more than a muffin. Maybe he’d ask her to marry him! This girl had him all shook up. Maybe he should just ask for her phone number and see whether she’d slap him. Yeah. “Calm down, Killer. She ain’t gonna marry you. She doesn’t even know your last name!” he told himself as he drifted to the place where dreams are made.

  Chapter 11

  Class on Thursday went smoothly, as expected, and Friday morning Carissa slept late. It had been a long, hard week of firsts. College was a different animal than high school, and Carissa had her work cut out for her, mentally, physically, and emotionally.

  She had her MRI today, and she was nervous. What would it say? Did she really have this tethered cord thing? Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she had just had a bad bladder day. That was possible, right? She clung to the idea as if her life depended on it. She had to. She couldn’t even wrap her head around dropping out of her first semester of college for spina bifida. She didn’t want to let it have that power. She hated when it took over her life and kept her from moving forward.

  She decided to stop thinking about the semester, and just take today for today. Sometimes, if she thought too far into the future, she got overwhelmed, and she couldn’t be overwhelmed right now. It was time to leave for her MRI.