Each boot felt like it was made of concrete.
Halfway up the stairs, DJ’s knees gave way, and she sat down on the step. Head in her hands, she let the last scene replay in her head. Preplay, replay, what difference did it make in times like this? How could she call Bridget to say she’d been grounded for the rest of her life? And all because DJ had a dream.
And her mother didn’t like it.
She hates me. I know it.
DJ pulled herself up by the railing and lifted her one-ton foot again.
“I … I really blew it, didn’t I?” The sound of her mother weeping caught at DJ’s heart.
The murmur of Robert’s voice was undecipherable.
Don’t listen in—you know what Gran says. That pain-in-the-neck voice again. DJ started up again, then stopped. So what if she heard something bad. Things couldn’t get much worse than they were now.
“R-Robert, I’m so scared.”
Her mother admitting to being scared?! DJ leaned against the wall.
“Sh-she m-might decide to go live with Brad and Jackie.” A hiccup broke the words.
DJ had to admit the thought had crossed her mind—especially now. Brad at least understood her love of horses and her dream to jump, and he’d already said he’d help. But he had also told her to get her grades up. And he hadn’t called since.
“I know she hates me.” A nose was blown, then silence.
“So go to her.” Now Robert’s voice came plainly.
DJ ignored her heavy feet and headed for her room. Being caught eavesdropping would not be cool, particularly tonight.
But her mother never came. DJ’s anger simmered. When she laid a hand on her chest, she could feel it, hot just below the surface. “I’m not going to tell Bridget I can’t come—let her do that.” She paced the length of the room and back to the window. “I have to be at the Academy. Bridget depends on me. If I can’t ride Major or take lessons, then I’ll have to deal with it.” She propped her elbows on the sill. “God, I always thought you were out there, ready to listen, but where are you now?”
Go talk to your mother. “No way, not a chance.” More trips to the door and back. She dashed away some moisture from her eyes. “Don’t you cry, either!”
Her algebra made about as much sense as the Egyptian letters she’d seen in a photo of a pyramid. She slammed the book shut, stuffed her homework in her backpack, and turned out the light. When she tried to pray, no words came. Only an overwhelming urge to cry again. God’s probably mad at me, too, she thought. He might as well be, since everyone else is.
She turned over and pulled the pillow over her head.
A note from her mother in the morning said she could do her work at the Academy but not ride Major. Breathing a sigh of relief, DJ dashed out the door to ride to school with the Yamamotos. No one said goodbye to her, and no funny little boy hugged her legs. No one wished her a good day. The boys were still at Gran’s, and Robert and Lindy had left before she did.
“Uh-oh,” Amy said after one look at DJ’s face. “You want to talk about it?”
DJ shook her head. “It’s too complicated. But I almost got grounded for the rest of my life.” She sank against the back of the seat. “I can’t ride Major.”
“They found out about the art weekend?”
“Mrs. Adams called and talked to my mother.”
“Yikes.” Amy shuddered.
“You can say ‘I told you so’ any time now.”
“I won’t.”
DJ shook her head. “I just wish she’d ground me from algebra.”
She was beginning to feel better until she walked into the art room. Mrs. Adams shook her head when she saw her.
“I can only keep that spot open a few more days,” she said. “I sure hope you change your mind.”
My mother strikes again! DJ took her seat but her fingers failed to draw the lines the way they should. Another problem to deal with! “Fiddle. Double and triple fiddle!” She kept the mutter low.
After her work at the Academy, DJ flung herself into a chair at Gran’s. “It’s not fair!” She could hear her voice rising on telling Gran and Joe all about the problems.
“No one ever said life would be fair.” Gran stopped behind DJ and massaged her shoulders. “God said He’d rescue us from trouble, and Jesus said He would always be with us, but no one said anything about fair.”
“How come my mother can’t be happy about me wanting to become such a super thing as an international jumper? It’s not like I’m doing drugs or something.”
“I don’t know. Have you prayed about it?”
“I tried. I think God’s gone shopping or something. He sure isn’t answering.”
Gran dropped a kiss on DJ’s head and wrapped her arms around her granddaughter. “Oh, darlin’, God never checks out. He is the same, yesterday, today, and always. He hears you.”
“Then He’s probably mad at me, too.” DJ rested in her grandmother’s arms. “Even Major hates me ’cause I didn’t ride him today. This isn’t fair to him, either.” She turned to look at Joe. “That reminds me, I overheard Bunny saying something to Tony that made him boiling mad. I didn’t catch what.” She watched Joe sipping his coffee on the other side of the table. “Did you ever find out anything about her?” It was a relief to change the subject.
He shook his head. “Like I told you, she’s clean as a whistle. You kids are seeing shadows where there are none. I think you’ve been reading too many mysteries.”
DJ slunk back in her chair. “Not me. I’m two book reports behind. Who’s got time to read?”
“But you used to like to read.” Gran tipped DJ’s chin up with one loving finger and brushed the hair back, looking deep into DJ’s eyes. “Child, you need to go to your mother and, together, clear this all up.”
DJ could feel her neck tighten. “Yeah, right.” She knew that answer wasn’t what Gran wanted to hear. “I wish I’d never shown that drawing to Mrs. Adams. That’s what brought on all of this. I’m never doing such a lame-brained thing again.”
“You think God made a mistake giving you a talent for drawing and a love of art?”
DJ couldn’t think of a thing to say to that.
“So what are you going to do?” Joe broke the extended silence.
“Nothing—oh, I don’t know. Get my grades back up.” She turned to Gran. “I know I should go talk to her but … Gran, she won’t listen. I think one thing, and she thinks another. That’s all there is to it!”
Joe glanced up at the clock above the sink. “I better go get the boys. Robert took them to the new house with him so they could play there since Lindy won’t be home till late. Have you talked with him?”
Again, DJ shook her head. “I really don’t want to talk to anybody.”
“So we’re nobodies?” Joe wiggled his eyebrows.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do, but you know what? Asking for help is not a sin.” Joe stood up. “Do you want to come with me? I’ll bring the boys back here, and you and Robert can do some talking. Trust me, my son listens well. I should know—I trained him.”
“Is he an interrogator, too?” DJ almost pulled off the joke. Almost, but not quite.
“So … you coming?” Joe waited at the door.
DJ shook her head. “I’ll just have to try harder, that’s all. Mom said I’m not doing my best, so guess I better.” She shook her head again. “Things used to be a lot simpler.”
Later that night, DJ tried praying again. “Please, God, help me get along better with my mother. And somehow I have to learn to understand algebra. How come I have so much trouble?” DJ yawned wide and waited, hoping for some kind of an answer. “You know that verse Gran gave me for biting my fingernails, ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me’? It doesn’t seem to be working.”
How come God could seem so close at times, and others, like right now—where was He? The thought bugged DJ even as she fell asleep.
The birds started their morning chorus about the time DJ woke up. She dressed quickly in the dimness and tiptoed down the stairs. Even though she couldn’t ride him, this way she would have extra time with Major, and she could work both Patches and Omega longer.
“Do you want a ride to the Academy?” Robert leaned against the counter, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.
“Yi! You scared me.” DJ could feel her heart thudding. “I though everyone was still in bed.”
“Your mother’s still sleeping. She needs some extra rest after the week she put in. And the boys will sleep until cartoons at least. They promised to be really quiet. I thought I could work on the house for a while, then come home for breakfast.”
“I was going to ride my bike.”
“Well, since I go right by the Academy, I’ll drop you off and pick you up. If you want me to, that is.”
“Sure.” DJ dug an apple out of the refrigerator and a food bar from the cupboard. “I’m ready when you are.” So, do I talk with Robert? She could hear Joe’s suggestion as clearly as if he were right next to her ear. But what do I say? “Hey, Robert, you have a dumb kid on your hands. I can’t even do algebra.”
By the time she’d figured out what to say, they were driving into the parking lot at the Academy. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Okay. See you in about three hours? Lindy said she’d have breakfast ready at 9:00.”
“I might just stay here, okay?”
“As I said, breakfast is at nine.”
DJ nodded and shut the truck door. She’d bike back over after breakfast.
First she fed both Major and Ranger, shoveling the dirty shavings out as they ate. “You boys ready for a good grooming?”
Major looked over his shoulder and shifted to the side to make her work easier. He slobbered grain and kept chewing, rippling his skin where she tickled his flank. By the time he’d cleaned out his grain bucket, she had dumped in a wheelbarrow of shavings and spread them. All the time she brushed and curried him, they carried on a conversation. She explained to him what a mess she was in, and he nodded, snorted, and flicked his ears back and forth, as if understanding every word.
“You know what?” She rubbed his face down with a clean cloth after using a soft brush. “You’re a great listener. Now, if only you had some answers.”
DJ leaned against his neck. “And if only I could ride you.” The thought of the jumping and flat work she was missing made the burn in her belly ignite again. How would she ever get her algebra grade up so she could ride? A week, she could handle. Two weeks … but until her grade came up? It might snow in July in San Francisco before that happened.