A Thousand Tomorrows / Just Beyond the Clouds

  The Dalton girls had always danced. Daisy’s love for music and movement was probably the reason she didn’t struggle with her weight the way so many people with Down Syndrome did. Elle took her sister’s hand, stood, and began waltzing around the table. As they did, Daisy laughed the open-hearted, no-holds-barred laugh she was known for.

  Her happiness was contagious, and Elle began to giggle. Never mind that her mother wouldn’t give up on hoping she’d find a man. She’d already been down that road. This life—the one she lived at home with Daisy and her mom, the one she lived each day with her students—was fulfilling enough.

  Snoopy stood and stretched and fell into line behind them. As they waltzed into the living room, he followed, and that made Daisy laugh harder. “Snoopy is a dancer! He’s a dancer, Mom!”

  “Yes, he is.” Their mother stood and moved in time to the music. When she reached Elle and Daisy, she waltzed close to the beagle. “Snoopy’s my partner this time.”

  Round and round the room they went, and Elle relished the feeling. When the song ended, they were all breathless from dancing and laughing. Daisy plopped down on the sofa and called Snoopy to her side. “Time for movie night.”

  “You’re right.” Elle went to the kitchen, found a bag of popcorn, and slipped it into the microwave. “Ten minutes to show time.”

  The movie that night was Sweet Home Alabama, starring Reese Witherspoon. Only a few minutes in, Reese’s character daydreamed about a long-lost childhood love, and Elle felt the familiar ache in her chest. She could dismiss her mother’s concern and laugh about the idea of needing more than she already had. But deep inside there was no denying the obvious. She had tried love once and failed. Badly.

  Even if she were looking, she’d never find the sweet, guileless love that lived every day in the eyes of her students, a love built on honesty and transparency, a love strong enough to tear down the walls around her heart. Only that sort of love was worth letting go of her independence and trusting one more time. And that was the problem. Outside of Daisy’s world, that sort of love wasn’t just rare.

  It was nonexistent.

  THE FIELD TRIP to Antlers Park was in full swing, and Elle was proud of the way her students were handling their time in public. The bus ride had gone smoothly, all of the students demonstrating their ability to show their passes and stay seated until the appropriate stop. As always, Daisy led the way, with Carl Joseph right behind her.

  Once in a while, Elle would watch the two of them and wonder what the future held. Daisy would be ready for independent living sometime in the next few months. Even now she could be successful, though Elle wanted to be sure Daisy understood her medical needs—monthly checkups because of her weak heart. She also needed a job. Already Elle was helping Daisy put together a resume.

  The problem was Carl Joseph. He wouldn’t be ready for at least another year. And with his epilepsy, his parents were thinking about pulling him from the program. When she tried to talk to Daisy about the situation, her sister only smiled and said, “I won’t move out until CJ can move out.”

  Elle watched them now, Daisy and Carl Joseph, arms linked. They were at the front of the group, heading down a walkway toward Engine 168, the historic railroad car that had been placed in the park decades ago. It was a point of interest—something Elle wanted her students to understand.

  She thought about her sister again. One of these days she’d have to sit down with Carl Joseph’s parents and try to convince them. Epilepsy was fairly common for people with Down Syndrome. With the right medication and regular checkups, Carl Joseph could live an independent life even with his condition. Maybe they’d be more open to a group home setting where Carl Joseph and Daisy could live in the same complex. Not as some sort of romantic set-up, but as the best friends they’d come to be. For now, anyway.

  They were twenty yards from the railroad car when Gus began to gallop around in circles. “We’re going on a train… Hey, everyone, look!” He laughed loud and long and bobbed his head several times. “We’re going on a train!”

  Sid gave his classmate a disgusted look. He marched to the front of the railroad car and pointed at the ground. “Yeah, but no tracks.” He shouted in Elle’s direction. “See, Teacher. No tracks.”

  “No tracks is very dangerous.” Carl Joseph stopped and looked around. “What’s going to happen if no tracks for the train, Teacher?”

  Elle held up her hands. “Everyone come here.”

  Slowly, with a variety of response times, the group formed a half circle around her. Sid was still mumbling something about the whole day being a disaster because no train could run without tracks. Elle waited until they were mostly quiet. “We are not going on a train today.”

  Gus pointed at the railroad car. “There it is, Teacher. That’s the train.”

  “That’s part of the park.” She spoke loud enough for all of them to hear. Her tone was rich with compassion and confidence. “Today is a park day. The train is part of the park.”

  She had chosen Antlers Park intentionally, because she knew the sight of a full-size railroad car in the park would be enough to throw most of them. This was why they took field trips, so they could work through everyday obstacles on the quest for living an independent life. She motioned to the group. “Follow me.”

  When they reached the train, Elle positioned herself near a sign and directed them to come as close as they could. “This is a marker, a sign that explains why a train is here in the middle of the park. Who would like to read it?”

  Daisy had her hand up first. About a third of the students could read, but Daisy was easily the most skilled. Their mother had worked hours each week making sure her youngest daughter could read—and she’d done it at a time when conventional wisdom held that a person with Down Syndrome might not be capable of such a feat.

  It was one more area where Carl Joseph was far behind Daisy.

  Daisy stepped to the front of the group and bent over the sign. Her eyes were worse than they’d been a year ago. She needed to squint in order to make out the words. But one line at a time she read the message on the sign out loud to the class. When she reached the part about the railroad car being a gift to the people of Colorado Springs, something to commemorate the railroad’s part in the founding of the city, Gus waved his arms.

  “I get it!” He pointed at the train. “It’s a tourist trap. My mom told me about tourist traps.”

  Elle smiled. They finished up with the train and headed for the crosswalk. There, Elle reviewed the traffic signals. Sid lagged behind, and when they crossed, he was last to step into the road. By the time he did, the light had changed and a car honked at him. In times past, Sid would’ve shaken a fist at the driver or maybe dropped to the ground, weeping, reduced to the abilities of a five-year-old child.

  Not this time. With Elle behind him, he stopped, looked at the driver and then waved at the man. Then he turned his attention to the other side of the street and, head high, finished his walk.

  Progress! Elle stepped up onto the curb, stopped him, and smiled. “Sid! That was wonderful!”

  “He didn’t need to honk.” Sid looked back at the driver, already speeding down the road.

  “No, he didn’t.”

  Elle and Sid joined the others at the Subway on the corner. Restaurants gave the students a chance to face other tasks that might’ve been daunting without the training they’d received at the ILC. They had to decide what type of bread and meat and fixings they’d have on their sandwich, and whether they wanted a meal package. And each of them needed to count out the right money to pay for the meal.

  Twenty minutes later, when they had their sandwiches, the students found seats at five tables all on one side of the restaurant. Another improvement. A year ago, most of them would’ve wandered aimlessly around the dining area trying to figure out where to sit and who to sit with.

  As they began eating, they fell into natural conversations. Another sign of independence. When one of them grew too
loud, someone at their table would hold up two fingers—the sign that voices needed to be quieter. Elle sat at Daisy’s table with Carl Joseph and Gus. It was one of those moments when she knew with every breath that this was the place God wanted her. Never mind love and relationships, here—with these students, she was making a difference.

  They were halfway through their meal when she saw a pickup truck park out front. A rugged dark-haired man in a white T-shirt and jeans climbed out and headed for the front door of the restaurant. Elle was struck by the guy’s looks. In her world of working at the center and stopping at the grocery store and heading back home again, there were few guys who looked like this one. But the set of his jaw and his determined pace shouted that he was preoccupied.

  She turned her attention back to her sandwich just as Carl Joseph dropped his sandwich and stood up.

  “Brother!” He waved at the man. “Over here. Come sit with us!”

  The guy’s expression eased. Several students let out similar shouts. “Hi, Carl Joseph’s brother!” “Come sit here!”

  Daisy tugged on Carl Joseph’s shirt. “Is that the bull rider?”

  He puffed out his chest. “I’m a bull rider, too.”

  “Okay, everyone.” Elle stood and looked at her students. “Let’s remember our restaurant manners.”

  The guy gave a sheepish wave to the others and one at a time the excited students sat back down. Then he came to Carl Joseph’s side and looked straight at him. “You remembered, right, Buddy?” His tone was kind, but his eyes looked troubled. Maybe even angry. “You and I have a date today?”

  Carl Joseph did an exaggerated gasp. He covered his mouth and looked from Daisy to Elle and back to his brother. “I forgot, Brother. I’m sorry I forgot.”

  The guy gave a short laugh. In a way that made it clear he had no choice, he pulled up a chair and sat next to Carl Joseph. “Can you finish up?” A strained smile lifted his lips. “I have something to show you.”

  “But…” Carl Joseph pointed slowly at Daisy and Elle and Gus and then at the other tables. “These are my friends and… and this is Field Trip Day.”

  “Yeah.” For the first time he looked at Elle. There was suddenly enough ice in his tone to change the temperature of the room. “Mom told me.”

  Elle held out her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Elle Dalton. Director of the Center for Independent Living.”

  He took Elle’s hand for the slightest moment. Long enough for her to see his wedding ring. “I’m Cody Gunner, Carl Joseph’s brother.”

  “World-famous bull rider.” Daisy’s entire face lit up. She bounced in her seat. “Right here with us. World-famous bull rider.”

  Carl Joseph whispered to her, his frustration written into the lines on his forehead. “I’m a bull rider, too, Daisy. Remember?”

  “Uh”—Cody gave an uncomfortable laugh—“sorry about this. I need to take my brother. We have plans.”

  “Okay.” Elle looked at Carl Joseph. “The field trip is almost over. It’s okay if you go with your brother.”

  “But Daisy and me wanna dance in the park.” Carl Joseph’s face fell. He implored his brother. “I didn’t get to dance yet.”

  “Hold on, Buddy.” Cody’s pleasant facade seemed to be cracking. He dropped his voice to a whisper and turned his attention to Elle. “Can I talk to you? In private?”

  Elle felt her defenses rise. She stood and looked at her students. “I need to speak with Mr. Gunner outside. I’ll be right back.”

  She led the way, and once they were out of earshot, he met her eyes. “What is all this?”

  “Excuse me?” Elle could feel the anger flash in her eyes.

  “This.” He gestured toward the students inside. “Putting them on display so everyone can gawk at them.” The guy kept his voice controlled, but just barely. “I thought my brother was taking social classes.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Now I find out it’s some kind of independent living?”

  Elle was too surprised to speak.

  “Look—” Cody seemed to be trying to find control. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” He paced a few steps away from her before whirling around and staring at her. “My brother’s sick. He’ll never live on his own. Someone should’ve told you.”

  Elle was still shocked by the guy’s outburst. But now at least she understood it. “His epilepsy, you mean?”

  “Epilepsy, heart disease… the fact that he can’t read.” Cody tossed his hands. “It’s wrong to fill his head with ideas of independence.” He turned his attention toward the students inside. “How can it be right for any of them?”

  “Mr. Gunner.” Elle worked to keep her tone even. “I care about each one of those students in that restaurant. I would never bring them into public to be laughed at.” She narrowed her eyes. “This is part of their curriculum. If you’d like to know more about what your brother is learning, I’d advise you to make an appointment with me. I’m available every morning an hour before class.”

  “What’s the point? My brother won’t ever be well enough to leave home.” He shook his head. “Don’t you get it?”

  “He can be independent even with his limitations.” Elle worked to keep her anger in check. What right did Carl Joseph’s brother have to disrupt the field trip?

  “Never mind.” He took a step toward the door and held it open. His voice was still thick with frustration. “Thanks for your time.”

  Elle thought of a dozen things she could tell this guy, but why bother? Ignorant people like him came along every now and then. She didn’t need to validate him by defending her work at the center. He was still holding open the door for her, so she went in.

  Cody walked up to Carl Joseph and bagged the uneaten half of his sandwich. “Come on, Buddy. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Wait!” Carl Joseph’s voice was much louder than usual. “You didn’t meet Daisy.”

  Cody smiled, but it was laced with impatience. “Fine.” He looked at Daisy. His tone was kinder than before. “I’m Cody. You must be Daisy.”

  “Hi, Cody.” Daisy gave him a bashful look. She batted her eyes. “You’re cute.”

  “Hey, what about me?” Carl Joseph turned to Daisy, hurt flooding his eyes.

  Daisy took his hand and pressed it to her heart. “You’re the cutest of all, CJ.” She whispered, “Even cuter than your brother.”

  At that moment, Cody seemed to notice the way his brother smelled. “Buddy? Are you wearing cologne?”

  “Yes.” Carl Joseph stood and beamed at Daisy. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Mom bought me some. I wear it for Daisy.”

  Daisy leaned close to Elle. “He smells like a bull rider.”

  “Thank you.” Carl Joseph puffed out his chest.

  “This is crazy.” Cody mumbled the words. He gave a curt nod to Daisy and Elle. “Nice to meet you.” As he headed for the door, he stopped and looked back at Elle. “I’ll stop in one day this week. Like you suggested.”

  Elle flashed her most professional smile. “You’ll have to make an appointment, Mr. Gunner.”

  The two left, amidst a chorus of good-byes from the other students. As soon as they were outside, Cody put his arm around Carl Joseph’s shoulders. Regardless of his intensity or his intrusion into the field trip, this much was clear: Cody Gunner was crazy about his younger brother. Cody opened the passenger-side door of the truck and gave Carl Joseph more help than he needed getting inside.

  As the two drove off, Elle looked around the dining area at her students. Cody’s visit had left a dark cloud of uncertainty over the group. But they knew this much: Carl Joseph’s brother didn’t approve of their field trip.

  It was one of the things that made a person with Down Syndrome so special. Part of their makeup included an extraordinary sense of perception. Independent living courses were designed to help people with Down Syndrome recognize their feelings and talk about them.

  Elle stood and cleared her throat. There was no tim
e like the present for such a lesson. “Would someone like to tell me how you’re feeling right now?”

  At first no one responded. Finally Daisy raised her hand.

  “Daisy?”

  “I don’t really think CJ’s brother is cute.” She shook her head. “Not anymore.”

  Sid tossed his hands in the air. “He didn’t like us.” He looked around. “Could anyone else see that? Carl Joseph’s brother didn’t like us.”

  Tears stung at Elle’s eyes. As hard as it was to hear Sid voice his feelings, this, too, was progress. She moved between the tables so she was closer to Sid. “Why did you think that?”

  “Because—” Sid pushed his sandwich back. His tone was more hurt than angry. “He didn’t look at us.”

  “And something else.” Gus raised his hand.

  Elle pointed at him.

  “He…” Gus looked at Daisy as if maybe this part might hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry, Daisy. I’m sorry to say something bad about Carl Joseph’s brother.”

  “That’s okay, Gus.” She touched his shoulder. “You can say what you want.”

  “Okay…” Gus swallowed. “He said, ‘This is crazy.’ Maybe that means he thinks… he thinks we’re crazy.”

  Elle’s heart hurt. In that moment, if she could’ve, she would’ve whisked her students instantly back to the ILC, where they were safe and accepted, where living a life on their own seemed like one more fun activity. This reality was something entirely different. She went to Gus and lowered herself to his level. “Gus, no one thinks you’re crazy.”

  Gus bit his lip and hung his head. “I think… maybe Carl Joseph’s brother does.”

  “No.” She stood and met the eyes of the students at every table. “Carl Joseph’s brother is an angry person. Carl Joseph said he was hurt, so maybe he’s in pain. His back or his knees, maybe.” She wished he could see how his appearance had hurt her students. “We can pray for him.”