Nothing about his parents’ plan was working, but after only two weeks, Cody wasn’t ready to give up. Carl Joseph was sulking, missing his friends at the ILC. That was to be expected. Cody missed the routine, too. But maybe if he realized the joy of working outdoors, helping with Ace and checking the fence around their ranch, the pain of missing the center would ease a little.
Working so hard with Carl Joseph had brought about only one benefit so far.
Cody was thinking of Ali less.
Not that she wasn’t still there in his heart. She was. But now when he found himself missing someone, more often it was Elle. Her sweet and subtle sarcasm, the way she held her own with him. And her eyes— the way he could get lost in them without meaning to.
It was Monday, start of the third week. Cody walked from his house to his parents’, and as he reached the back door he dug down deep for another dose of patience.
Inside, Carl Joseph was sitting at the dining room table. His face almost touched his plate of scrambled eggs.
“Hi, Buddy.”
Carl Joseph mumbled something, but he didn’t look up.
Maybe it was Cody’s imagination, but it seemed that Carl Joseph was regressing on purpose. As if he were smart enough to know that if he acted disengaged, maybe someone would decide to take him back to the center where he’d been doing so well.
Cody sucked at the inside of his cheek and studied his brother. “I’m going to teach you how to stack hay today, Buddy.”
“It might rain.” Carl Joseph poked at his eggs. “It might.”
“That’s okay. Guys who work on ranches have raincoats.” Cody had wished more than once that the weatherwould go ahead and clear up. It was one of the rainiest late springs the area had ever experienced. And everydrop reminded Carl Joseph of Daisy and his friends back at the center.
They headed out to the barn, where a neighbor had dropped off twenty bundles of hay. All of it lay in a heap near the entrance to the arena. “Okay, first I’ll teach you how to pick up a bale of hay.”
Cody positioned himself in front of one of the bales. “Always bend like this, Buddy. You don’t want to hurt your back.”
“Gus hurt his back one time in cooking class.” Carl Joseph turned toward the door, his back to the hay. “One time he did that.”
“I’m over here.” Cody held his breath. He didn’t want his frustration to show in his voice.
Slowly Carl Joseph turned toward him and moved behind a bale of hay. “ ’Cause not to hurt my back.” He pushed his glasses back into place, spread his legs wide, and bent at the knees. But as he did, he rose up on his toes and lost his balance. He toppled forward and didn’t get his hands out in front of himself in time. He hit the hay face-first and fell to the ground. He had hay sticking in his hair and small cuts across his cheeks—including along the newly healed section where he’d gotten hurt in the car accident.
Cody hurried to his side and helped him brush the hay off his shirt and out of his hair. “Not that wide, okay? You can’t spread your legs that wide.” He helped his brother to his feet. But by then, Carl Joseph was shaking from the fall.
“Fine, let’s try something else.”
Carl Joseph didn’t want to learn about the ranch. But he didn’t want to say that to Brother or Brother might get mad at him. Also, this was his home, and Brother said boys should help out at home. He would get paid if he could learn all the jobs.
But he didn’t want to.
Brother said it could be a break from the prickly hay, but Carl Joseph didn’t clap or smile or laugh. ’Cause what about Daisy? What about Gus and Tammy and Sid? What about Teacher and the bus routes and the field trips?
Brother said they were going to fix a fence. So Carl Joseph walked with Brother out across the dirt where Ace liked to run, to a fence at the far back. Brother pointed to a broken part. “See that, Buddy?”
“Yes.” He squinted through his glasses. They still had hay on them. He took them off and rubbed them with his shirt. Then he put them back on. There. “I see that now.”
“First thing we have to do is cut a piece of wire.” Brother had a roll of something and he knelt on the ground and took cutters from his pocket.
Carl Joseph didn’t care about the wire. He sat down on the ground while Brother worked, and he dragged his finger through the soft sandy dirt. Where was Daisy right now? He looked at the sky. It was darker than before. He studied the dirt again. He could write in the dirt. He’d done it before.
“Then you take the wire,” Brother was saying, “and you wrap it several times around the post and...”
The dirt felt good on his fingers. Better than the hay. Carl Joseph drew lines one way, and then another. Then he erased the lines with his whole hand. Then he had an idea. He began drawing letters in the sand. All the letters he knew howto spell.
“Buddy?” His brother was standing beside him. He sounded upset. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be watching me fix the fence. So you can learn how to do it.”
Carl Joseph leaned back so Brother could see better. “I’m writing my favorite letters.”
“You are?” Brother moved around so he could see the letters better. “What’s it say?”
Carl Joseph felt sadness deep inside. “D-A-l-S-Y.... It spells D-A-l-S-Y.”
Brother tossed his cutters onto the ground and he dropped onto his behind. “I know you want to be back at the center, Buddy. I want that, too.” He took off his hat and wiped his forehead. “But the doctor says no, and Mom and Dad say no. You need to understand.”
“D-A-l-S-Y.”
His brother was going to say something, ’cause his eyes looked tired. But then the rain started hard and fast. Carl Joseph gasped and looked at the letters in the sand. He covered them with his body so they wouldn’t get wet. So they wouldn’t melt.
But then he felt sadder than ever before. ’Cause the rain fell on everything and Daisy might melt. She might get wet and melt. Even if she wasn’t the Wicked Witch of the West. Water fell onto his cheeks, but it wasn’t from the rain.
“Your teacher will take care of Daisy. She won’t get wet.”
“ ’Cause I’m not there.” He covered the whole word “Daisy” with his body. “She might get wet.”
“Buddy, what can I do?” His brother breathed out hard. He slid closer on the wet ground. “How can we get you excited about working at home?”
Carl Joseph wasn’t sure what Brother meant. He thought and thought, and then he knew what to say. He kept his body over her name, but he looked at Brother’s eyes. “Remember Ali, the horse rider?”
Brother pulled up one knee and laid his forehead on it for a minute. “Yes.” He lifted his head. “I remember her.”
“You miss her, Brother. You said so.”
“I do.” His brother’s voice was quiet. “I miss her a lot.”
“That’s how I miss D-A-l-S-Y.”
Brother looked at him for a long time. Then he said, “I’m sorry, Buddy.”
And that’s when the rain stopped, and Carl Joseph had an idea. He could pray. So he prayed the rest of the day that maybe sometime soon Brother would take him back to see Teacher and the students and Daisy. Because praying was a life skill.
The most important of all.
All A.ONG—FROM the start of his parents’ plan—Cody figured the club meeting at the park would be a highlight for Carl Joseph. The day dawned warm and sunny, but no amount of small talk about the weather on the ride to the park lifted Carl Joseph’s dark mood.
“Are you excited, Buddy?” Cody tried again as they reached the front door of the park building.
“I don’t know.” Carl Joseph kept his gaze straight ahead.
The two of them walked inside and saw an older man at the front desk. He was busy writing something, but when he noticed them he smiled and stuck his pencil behind his ear. “Can I help you?”
“Yes.” Cody wasn’t sure where to begin. He decided to keep the explanation simple. “My brother’s name is Carl Joseph Gunner. He’d like to take part in the club meeting today.”
Next to him, Carl Joseph folded his arms in front of his chest and scowled.
Cody managed a weak smile. “Are we on time?”
“Yes. The others are all here, but they always come a little early.” The man was kind; his expression and voice were warm and welcoming. He took a piece of paper from a stack on his desk and handed it to Cody. “Fill this out for him”—he pointed beyond his desk around a corner—“then take him in with the other adults.”
Cody took the piece of paper and a pen from the counter. The questionnaire was simple and straightforward. Name of club member, condition of club member, any health or allergy problems, any behavioral problems, any triggers. Codyanswered as quickly as he could.
“Teacher says I should write the words,” Carl Joseph mumbled under his breath. The man at the counter took a phone call and didn’t notice.
Cody stopped writing and looked at his brother. “The man asked me to fill it out, Buddy.” Cody returned to the paper.
At the bottom of the sheet was a contact list, where Cody provided their home number, his cell phone number, and his parents’ cell phone numbers. The man was off the phone by then, and he smiled as he took the paper from Cody. He studied it and nodded. “Looks good.” He reached out his hand to Carl Joseph. “Welcome to Club!”
Cody held his breath and willed his brother to respond the way he should. Carl Joseph was the kindest person Cody knew. He wasn’t used to this new depressed, sulking Carl Joseph. Cody did a nervous laugh to ease the tension of the moment.
The internal struggle Carl Joseph was going through played out on his face. With his arms still folded tightly in front of him, his scowl became a mild frown, and then more of a fearful look. Finally he relaxed his shoulders and his arms released to his sides. He found a tentative smile for the old man. Then he took the man’s hand and shook it.
“Good.” Relief filled Cody’s voice. He gave the man a grateful look. “Thank you.” He put his hand on Carl Joseph’s back and guided him around the corner. “Come on, Buddy. It’s this way.”
In the next room, art supplies were set up at a number of tables. Molding clay took up one, paints and paper another, and yarn and felt another. Moving around the room and between the tables were maybe fifteen Down Syndrome people, all ages and sizes.
Sitting at a desk near the back of the room was a woman who looked familiar. Cody led Carl Joseph to her desk, and as he came closer she looked up. In a rush he remembered where he’d seen her before. She was his mother’s friend, a woman who used to work at the bank near his parents’ house. Her name was Kelley Gaylor, and she and Cody’s mom had done volunteer work together over the past few years.
“Mrs. Gaylor...” Cody reached out and shook her hand. “My brother’s joining the club for today.”
“Cody! My goodness. Your mother said you were taking a break from the rodeo circuit. I keep wishing we could hire you to help run our family’s thoroughbred farm.” She stood and a smile brightened her eyes. She looked at Carl Joseph and came around her desk to greet him. “Carl Joseph, I’m glad you’re here.”
Cody tried to remember what his mother had said about her friend. She was much younger than his mom, maybe in her late thirties, and very pretty. She was married with three kids, and very involved in charities for children.
And now she was here helping with handicapped adults.
“Did you leave the bank?”
“Yes.” She leaned on the edge of her desk. Her blue eyes were filled with a warmth that put Cody at ease. “I’m doing some accounting work for my parents, and spending more time with my kids, and volunteering. Actually this is only my second day working with the club. I was going to tell your mother about it, but...” She hesitated. Clearly she didn’t want to talk about Carl Joseph with him standing there. She motioned to him. “Why don’t you follow me, Carl Joseph? Let’s start you off at the painting table.”
Cody looked at her desk. There were framed photos of her and her husband, and another of a daughter and two young boys. On the other side of the desk were two framed pictures of beautiful horses. He had finally found the perfect place, led by someone he knew and was comfortable with. What could be better?
He turned his attention to Kelley and Carl Joseph, making their way to the paint table. Things had been rocky until now, but this place, this club, was exactly what Carl Joseph needed. Maybe his parents were right. Tuesdays here would give him a safe way to be creative and social.
Carl Joseph didn’t resist. Maybe because of the woman’s gentle approach or because of her compassionate voice. He followed her to the table where the paints were, and she introduced him to another young man who was deciding on a color. Carl Joseph’s expression was blank, but he took a piece of paper and a small jar of red paint. Then he sat at a nearby table and began to work. For a long moment, Kelley stayed with him, helping him and making him feel comfortable.
Kelley waited until Carl Joseph was working on his own, then she came back to Cody. She kept her voice low. “Your mother told me Carl Joseph was working with the ILC, heading toward his Goal Day.” She looked concerned. “Did something happen?”
Events from the past few months flashed in Cody’s mind. Cody explained about the accident and the doctor’s suggestion—that Carl Joseph be kept at home where he would be safer in light of his epilepsy.
Kelley was quiet for a moment, but her eyes never left his. “What about Carl Joseph? Does he like being home?”
“He misses the center.” Cody’s answer was thoughtful. “He’s always been the happiest kid. But now he knows about life away from home.” He narrowed his eyes and looked at his brother. “The risks are just too great.”
Kelley smiled. “All of life is a risk, Cody. Bull riding and loving a sick barrel racer. Giving up one of your lungs.” She paused. “You, of all people, should know that.”
Her words cut him deep. It took a few seconds for him to catch his breath, and when he did, he no longer wanted to talk. He had figured Kelley would be on his parents’ side, but instead she sounded just like Elle Dalton. The way maybe he should’ve sounded if he’d tried harder to convince his parents that Carl Joseph still needed the center. Cody exhaled. He felt as if he’d aged a decade in the past week. “The club meeting is three hours?”
“It is.” She touched his arm. “You can come back then. Don’t be upset by what I said. Whatever you and your family decide for Carl Joseph, I’m sure you’ll all be fine.” She angled her head and looked at the club members. “This sort of outing is the answer for many of them. But for some”—she met Cody’s eyes again —“independent living is a very real possibility.”
He hesitated. “Thanks.”
Cody wasn’t sure how he made it out to the parking lot and climbed into his truck. He didn’t remember any of it. All he could think about was what Kelley Gaylor had said. Cody, of all people, should know that life took risk. So why wasn’t he trying harder to be his buddy’s advocate? The way Elle Dalton would be if she had a voice in the matter. He started his engine and headed to the mall. He needed a pair of jeans, and he wanted to pick up a few CDs for Carl Joseph. Even when all he wanted to do was get his brother back in the truck and head to the center. Because Buddy was going crazy missing the people there.
And just maybe Cody was, too.