The doctor didn’t endorse a hike in the foothills for Carl Joseph, but he didn’t forbid it either. Early Sunday morning, Cody found Carl Joseph in his room before breakfast and poked his head inside. “Hey, Buddy. What’re you doing?”
Carl Joseph lifted his eyes and his face lit up. “Writing my hundred words! ’Cause today is hike day so no time later. ’Cause of the hike.” He laughed a few times, his excitement spilling into his voice.
The smell of cologne saturated the room. “You smell pretty good fora hike, Buddy.”
A shy sort of laugh came from his brother, and he shrugged his shoulders. “ ’Cause D-A-l-S-Y” He wore khaki pants and a polo shirt—not exactly hiking attire. But he had on sturdy shoes. “I dressed up for Daisy ’cause that’s called entertaining.” He sat back down at his desk and pointed at the piece of paper there. “Look at this, Brother.”
Across the top it read, “One Hundred Most Common Words.” Painstakingly, his brother had printed two of the words five times each. Remorse rained on Cody’s heart as he came up behind his brother and looked over his shoulder. His parents were debating whether to see the doctor Elle had told them about. In the meantime, Carl Joseph had made a decision. He would keep up on his work at home until the doctor said he could go back. In his buddy’s mind, itwasn’ta matter of//he returned, it was a matter of vJien.
“Watch this, Brother!” Carl Joseph covered his eyes with his hands. “No peeking.”
Cody came around to the side so he could see better.
“At. A-T. At." He took his hands from his eyes and stared at the word. Then he clapped and bounced a little in his chair. “At, Brother. I can spell the word ‘at.’ ”
Cody put his hand on Carl Joseph’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Good work, Buddy. I’m proud of you.”
With those words, Carl Joseph made a slow turn in his chair. He pushed his glasses up a little higher on his nose and stared at Cody. Then, like a gradual drip from a faucet, tears filled Carl Joseph’s eyes. “Really, Brother? You’re proud of me? Even if I’m not learning new things right now?”
Cody felt his heart breaking all over again. “C’mere, Buddy. I’m so proud of you.” He held out his arms and Carl Joseph stood. Slowly, he came to Cody, and the two of them hugged the way they hadn’t done since Cody’s first day home. “Hey, I have an idea.” Cody took a step back and smiled. “Let’s go to breakfast before the hike.”
Joy flashed in Carl Joseph’s eyes, but then just as quickly his smile faded. He looked at a calendar on his wall where each day of the week was represented in a different color. Carl Joseph had crossed off every day of the month that had gone by. He moved his finger along the small boxes until he reached the first one not crossed off. Today’s date.
“Uh-oh.” He straightened and turned back to Cody. “Blue means Sunday. Sunday means church.”
Once more Cody felt seized with guilt. He had discouraged his brother from giving money to the church, and Carl Joseph hadn’t mentioned attending a service since. But here was further proof that Carl Joseph still knew what Sundays were about. What they were supposed to be about. “Yes, Buddy, today’s Sunday. But we can still have breakfast out. Restaurants are open on Sunday.”
Carl Joseph’s expression fell flat for a moment, and he looked at the dresser next to his bed. He reached down and opened the top drawer, then he lifted an envelope from inside. Across the front in their mother’s handwriting it read Carl Joseph’s gift for Jesus. He studied it, then set it back down and shut the drawer again. “Not church today?”
“No, Buddy. Just breakfast. Is that okay?”
He bit his lip, as if the question was perplexing. Then he nodded, and a hesitant smile lifted his lips. “Okay. On Sunday me and Brother have breakfast.”
“At Denny’s.”
“ ’Cause Denny’s has pancakes!” Carl Joseph hurried toward the door. “I need a shower, Brother. I’ll be right back.”
In a rush, Cody felt his defenses fade away. Who was he to tell Carl Joseph how he could spend his money? Carl Joseph lived at home, and if he wanted to give a fourth of his earnings to the church, that was his prerogative. He opened the drawer and took out the envelope with his brother’s gift.
Cody thought about his years on the rodeo tour, and the lengths people would go for money. Athletes who would shoot themselves with cortisone or painkillers because they wanted to make a thousand dollars. People did crazy things for money.
Guilt ate at him as he ran his thumb over the envelope. He stared out the window and felt the weight of his earlier decision. How come it had taken this long for him to see the gift as what it was? A gift. A decision. One that Carl Joseph had the right to make.
“Okay, God,” Cody whispered. He wasn’t good at praying, and nothing about it came naturally. He squinted against the sunlight. “Am I supposed to encourage Carl Joseph to put a hundred dollars in the church plate?”
Cody looked around his brother’s room, and his eyes settled on a poster near the bed. The words read, “But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness and all these things will be given to you.” Beneath the words was a boy with Down Syndrome sitting at a bus stop.
Chills ran down Cody’s arms. The message was unmistakable. Seek God first, and everything else would fall into place. He thought of his lung—the gift he’d given his precious Ali. Lots of people would’ve thought him crazy to let doctors cut into his chest and take out one of his lungs, all so that a dying girl could have a few more years.
Tears stung his eyes again. It hadn’t mattered what anyone else said. His gift to Ali made perfect sense to him. But what if he’d had Down Syndrome? What if he’d wanted to give Ali the gift, and someone had stood in the way and forbidden him from giving it? A piece of him would have died right alongside her, no question. The look in Carl Joseph’s eyes a few minutes ago came back to him again.
Was that how his brother felt? His hands tied, unable to do something that was so strongly in his heart?
Cody took a long breath and gathered his determination. He would get dressed—khaki pants and a polo shirt, so his buddy wouldn’t feel out of place. He’d take his brother out to breakfast and on the hike they’d planned for today. But first, before they stopped at Denny’s for pancakes, he would do what he should’ve done a long time ago.
He would take Carl Joseph to church.
They WERE halfway to Denny’s when Cody made a turn onto the main highway. His heartfelt lighter, happier than it had felt in weeks. In years, even. He drove through the suburbs and toward the downtown area. The closer they got, the more he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Carl Joseph didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until Cody pulled up in front of the downtown church, the one where the field trip had taken place.
Then he stared at the building and his mouth dropped. He looked at Cody and swallowed. “That’s not Denny’s.”
“No, Buddy.” He pulled Carl Joseph’s envelope from beneath the seat and handed it to him. “I thought maybe we should go to church first. That way you can give Jesus your gift.”
Carl Joseph gasped. He had always been emotional, easily moved to tears, though in the last few months he seemed to have outgrown dramatic shows of his feelings. But here, now, Carl Joseph stared at the envelope and his eyes filled with tears. Once more he gave Cody a curious look. “You mean, it’s okay, Brother? My gift is okay?”
“Yes.” Cody struggled with the lump in his throat. “It’s a beautiful gift.” He looked at his watch. “But we’d better get inside. Service is about to start.”
The message that day was as if God Himself had spoken it straight to Cody’s heart. It was about trust and worry, and how it was fruitless to be anxious about tomorrow. No one could tell the future, the pastor said. “We can only trust God and follow His lead throughout this journey called life. Then when the end comes, we will have nothing left to do but celebrate.”
The idea filled Cody’s entire being. Trust God every day, so that in the end—whenever that was—there would be a celebration, not a wake. Joyful memories, not painful regrets.
And wasn’t that All’s message from the beginning? People died tragic deaths all the time. The point wasn’t how a person died. It was how a person lived.
Cody watched Carl Joseph, the way he knelt and stared earnestly, reverently at the cross up front. Cody struggled with relationships and love, with knowing what his next season in life should be about, and with where God fit in his life.
All the areas where Carl Joseph didn’t struggle at all.
When the offering plate came around, his brother took the folded envelope from his pocket, kissed it, and placed it tenderly on top. Then he looked at Cody and grinned. And from somewhere up in heaven, Cody could almost feel God grinning, too.
They BOH ORDERED a Grand Slam breakfast, and Cody realized he hadn’t enjoyed his brother this much since he’d come home from the rodeo circuit. They talked about bus routes and field trips and Daisy. A lot about Daisy. When the meal was over, though he debated it, Carl Joseph decided against the strawberry milkshake. “Ice cream isn’t a healthy choice.” He shook his head. “Not very healthy.”
“No.” Cody stifled a smile. “Water’s probably better.”
“Probably.”
The waitress brought the check and set it at the edge of the table. She was older, their mother’s age maybe. Already Carl Joseph had explained that Cody was his brother and that they were just returning from church.
“The pastor said to trust God,” he told her when she came to clear their plates. “Do you trust God, waitress?”
Cody was about to interrupt, apologize for his brother’s behavior, and let the waitress off the hook. People didn’t come out and ask questions like that, not of strangers, anyway. But before he could say anything, the waitress patted Carl Joseph’s hand.
“I do.” She gave Cody a knowing smile, as if to say they made a nice picture—two brothers sharing a meal this way. She turned back to Carl Joseph. “I trust Him everyday.”
“Good.” Carl Joseph stopped short of clapping, but he was clearly overjoyed that the waitress understood this truth about God.
Again Cody was taken aback. He folded his hands on the table and gave a slight shake of his head. The more he thought he knew about life, the more Carl Joseph redefined it. What was wrong with talking about God, anyway? Carl Joseph’s question had given the waitress a reason to smile even in the middle of a Sunday late breakfast rush.
After she left, Carl Joseph took the check and studied it. Cody watched him and wondered again about Elle Dalton’s offer. Could he take the next season of his life and devote it to working with adults like his brother? Today, the way Carl Joseph was relaxed around him, made him think it was possible.
He took a twenty from his wallet and set it on the table. Carl Joseph was still studying the check. “Brother?” Carl Joseph had the check in one hand, and the money in the other. “You need more.”
“What?” Cody took the check and looked at the total. Fourteen dollars, eleven cents. “But I put a...”
Carl Joseph held up the bill. “This is a ten, Brother. You need a twenty for the food we ate. ’Cause Grand Slams aren’t cheap.” He laughed at himself. “That’s why they’re Grand Slams.”
Cody was stunned. “How did you know that?”
“I learned it.” He grinned and laughed at the same time. “Teacher taught me.”
Elle again. The girl with the beautiful eyes and sensitive heart. The one he couldn’t wait to spend an afternoon with. “I like your teacher, Buddy.”
A quiet laugh came from him. “I know you do.”
“What?” A smile pulled at Cody’s lips. “How do you know?”
“Because”—he laughed again—“ljust know. ’Cause standing close and smiling at her. A lot of smiling.” “Okay.” Cody was laughing now, too. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “But it’ll be our secret.”
“Good.” He clapped quietly. “I like secrets.”
Long after breakfast and into the rest of the day, Cody felt a peace that hadn’t been there since he returned home nearly two months ago. He and his buddy were friends again, that was much of it. But also, the pastor was right. Life really was a matter of trusting God every day so that when it was all over, there wouldn’t be sadness over a mountain of regrets.
There would be a celebration.
The sort of celebration that was about to take place on a simple hike with friends.