A Thousand Tomorrows / Just Beyond the Clouds

by Karen Kingsbury

  Let him go.

  Chapter Nine

  All 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 dri
ve 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?

  He shifted, and without meaning to, his eyes returned to Elle, to the graceful way she moved in and out of the rows of students, speaking to each of them. Finally she took her spot at the front of the area. “Everyone turn to a partner and go over the details of Bus Route Eleven, the one we used last week on our field trip.”

  “Subway eat fresh!” The girl in braids stood up and grinned with the proclamation. She clapped her hands the way Carl Joseph sometimes did. Fast and loud, with her hands raised up close to her face. “Subway field trip. Eat fresh.”

  “Thank you, Tammy.” Elle wasn’t flustered by the student’s outburst. “Please sit back down and turn to your partner.”

  Cody watched Carl Joseph turn to Daisy and take her hands. In that moment Cody saw something in his brother’s eyes he’d never seen before. The sort of adoration and puppy love that indicated he was right about Carl Joseph. His brother was completely taken by the girl.

  Great, he thought. Carl Joseph would never give up the idea of living on his own if it meant letting go of Daisy.

  As soon as the students were busy, Elle said something to the older woman—who was obviously an aide or an assistant. Then Elle walked over to him. The kindness he’d seen in her eyes a few minutes ago was gone. She never broke eye contact as she approached, and when she reached him, she nodded to the door. “I’d like to speak with you outside, Mr. Gunner.”

  He followed her. What was this about? She had no reason to be angry with him. Not yet, anyway.

  When the door shut behind them, Elle put her hands on her hips. “I didn’t appreciate the way you disrupted our field trip last week.”

  “Yeah, well.” He forced himself to stay focused. He wasn’t angry, but his frustration was rising. “If all it takes is an unexpected visit from me to disrupt things, maybe you shouldn’t be taking field trips.”

  Elle searched his eyes. “What exactly is your problem? The entire class felt bad after you left.”

  Cody fought his emotions. Guilt and shame and anger and confusion. He looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. He clenched his jaw. “I heard. I’m sorry.” Cody met her eyes, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Even angry, her hazel eyes were gorgeous. He had to work to remember his point. A grin tugged at his lips. He didn’t want to fight with Elle Dalton. He only wanted Buddy home where he belonged. “You asked the whole class to pray for me, right? You told them I didn’t have the right sort of life skills.”

  Elle’s anger dimmed, but only a little. “Based on my limited experience, you don’t.”

  Cody wasn’t sure what to say. And his attraction to Buddy’s teacher was irritating. He pursed his lips and inhaled sharply through his nose. He pointed at the classroom. “What you’re teaching those young people isn’t right for all of them.”

  “I disagree.” Her eyes flashed, indignant.

  “Okay.” He held up his hands and took a step back. “I’d like permission to watch class today, but I have to be honest. My goal is to have Carl Joseph removed from your program as soon as possible.”

  The anger in Elle’s face became sadness. “You’re serious?”

  “Yes. This morning Carl Joseph said something about making shortcake.”

  “Monday’s Cooking Day.” Elle held her
ground. Her gaze didn’t waver.

  “And how, Ms. Dalton”—he leaned against the stucco wall and slipped his hands into his jeans pockets—“will making shortcake help Carl Joseph when he’s lost on a bus route somewhere? When he’s bagging groceries at the market and someone calls him a name or pushes him or confuses him? Is he supposed to whip up a batch of shortcake then? Or maybe drop down on his knees and start praying? Is that your answer?”

  Elle looked at him for a long time. The emotions in her eyes changed from outrage to hurt, and finally to quiet resignation. “I can see I have a lot of work ahead.”

  “No work, Ms. Dalton. I’ll sit in the back and keep to myself. Don’t change your routine for me.”

  “I won’t work to impress you.” She lifted her chin, pride smoothing out the concern in her face. “I’ll work to convince you. Because you’re wrong. And before you and I are through, you’ll see that for yourself. I promise.”

  “Is that right?” Cody wanted to laugh at her spunk. If things had been different, if life had been different, he might’ve been drawn to Elle Dalton. But even if he had room in his heart to love another woman, it wouldn’t be the arrogant young teacher standing before him.

  She took a step toward the door. “I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Gunner.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about me.” He gave her a lazy grin. Why did he have to find her so attractive? She was the single reason their home was in turmoil. He reminded himself to focus on that, and not the way her hazel eyes caught the morning sunlight.

  She lingered at the door for a moment. “I’m not the only one intent on proving something here, right?”

  “Exactly.” His tone grew more serious. “Independence is more than being able to eat at a Subway, Ms. Dalton.”

  She gave him a final look and then returned to her students. His heart was pounding as he followed her into the room and took a seat near the door. The longer he watched Elle, her gentle way and patient voice, the more he felt convinced that he’d pegged her wrong. She wasn’t the enemy. She was a confused do-gooder. Someone whose intentions were right, but whose ideas were way off.