Just Beyond the Clouds
Daisy raised her hand. “Me, Teacher.”
“Let’s ask someone else. We all know that Daisy knows the bus routes.” She gave Daisy a quick smile. “Gus, why don’t you tell us the bus route today.”
“Uh . . .” Gus pulled a piece of crumpled paper from his pocket and opened it. He turned it one way and then another and for a few seconds he did nothing but stammer.
Cody raised his brow, waiting.
Finally Gus looked at Elle. “Walk to Adler Street. Take the west bus past four stops to Cheyenne Street. Get off.” He looked up at the ceiling and tapped one finger on his temple. He checked his paper again and suddenly his eyes got big. “I know. Take the orange bus south to Pine Street. Get off and take the south bus to Main Street.” His mouth hung open, eyes unblinking. “Right, Teacher?”
“Yes.” Elle beamed. “Exactly right.”
With that, the group gathered their things and left the center, walking toward Adler. Cody lagged behind, watching. Every now and then a car would slow down as it passed. Cody wanted to shout at the driver to keep moving and not to stare. It was hard enough for this group to get anywhere without people gawking at them.
Like every other day, Carl Joseph walked next to Daisy. They were the same height, but Carl Joseph stood taller in her presence. When he seemed to think no one was looking, Carl Joseph linked his baby finger through hers. It was something Cody tried not to notice. Because Carl Joseph loved this life, these friends. So what would happen when his parents did what they needed to do? When they broke the news to him that independent living wasn’t possible for him?
As they reached the first bus, Carl Joseph walked more slowly. This time Daisy put her arm around him. “It’s okay, CJ. This bus is right.”
Carl Joseph stopped at the bottom of the steps. He pulled the directions sheet from his pocket, looked at it, and scratched his head. Then he pulled his bus pass from the other pocket and looked at it. “This bus is for Cheyenne Street?”
“Yes, CJ.” Daisy tugged gently at his arm. “This bus.”
Cody shuddered to think how Carl Joseph would handle this moment without the support of Daisy and Elle and his classmates. His brother tucked the papers back in his pocket and looked up at the bus. He was stiff with worry, and he began wringing his hands. “This bus?”
“Come on, CJ.” Daisy released his arm and moved onto the first step. There were still four other students waiting to board.
One of them peered around the others. “Move it, people. Teacher wants to move it.”
Elle was hanging back, watching the drama unfold. She kept from saying anything, and after a minute, his legs trembling, Carl Joseph followed Daisy onto the bus.
Cody came up behind Elle. She smelled wonderful, and for a crazy minute he wished it was just the two of them on the trip. “Is he always like this?”
“Yes.” Elle didn’t look troubled. “Most of the students are nervous about the bus until they get used to it. That’s the purpose of the field trips.”
Cody swallowed. His heart was beating faster than usual. “How can you know they won’t act this way when they’re by themselves for the first time?”
Elle reached the top step. She looked back at Cody. “We don’t just drop them off at an apartment and wish them luck, Mr. Gunner. Every stage is carefully monitored.”
“Oh.” He held her gaze a beat longer than necessary. Then he swallowed. “I didn’t know.”
They reached the dance studio on Main Street and filed into the lobby. The instructor was an older woman, and she and Elle seemed to know each other. The students moved into the dance room, and for the next two hours they learned a variety of swing dance moves, including the Lindy Hop. Cody couldn’t help but smile as he watched the smiles on the faces around him. Clearly they loved to dance.
As they left, Cody caught up to Elle and walked beside her. “You taught them about dance, right?”
“Yes.” Her eyes sparkled. Then her gaze dropped to his left hand and her guard seemed to go up again. “People with Down Syndrome need more exercise than other people. Dance is an exercise they enjoy, so it’s something they’ll do without being told.”
“They could benefit from something tougher—weight training or cycling.” He put his hands in his pockets, his pace easy and in line with hers. She had a dizzying effect on him, something he couldn’t shake. “I was thinking of starting something before I came home.”
“Really?” Her enthusiasm took him by surprise. “The owner of the center wants to expand. He wants a fitness center, an addition to the existing building.” She looked at him, her eyes thoughtful. “He won a grant from the state, so the money’s already in place.” She angled her head. “I’m supposed to find someone who could run it, develop a fitness program for the students. That way we could open it up to other disabled people, as well. People who don’t have the opportunity to learn independence.” She gave him a curious look. “Are you returning to work, wherever you were before you came home?”
“No.” He waited for the usual comments about rodeo and how difficult life must be on the road. But they didn’t come. He smiled to himself. She was maybe one of the first women he’d ever known who wasn’t part of the rodeo world. He looked straight ahead. “I’m sort of at a crossroads. Looking for the next thing.”
“Oh.” Her look became the more familiar subtly sarcastic one. “That’s why we were blessed to have your scrutiny this past week. Because you have nothing better to do.”
“Look, Elle . . .” He wanted to keep the air between them light. Her nearness was intoxicating, but his feelings went beyond that. He liked her, liked the way she didn’t back down from him and the way she cared for her students. He liked her passion most of all. But still he had to make himself clear. “I’m here for one reason.” He nodded at Carl Joseph walking next to Daisy a few people ahead of them. “I love that kid.”
She hesitated and then moved over some, creating more space between them. “I understand that, Mr. Gunner.” She gathered the students in a circle there on the sidewalk. “Who besides Daisy can tell me the next bus route?”
The students pulled out their direction sheets. One of the students gave the right answer and they were off again, this time toward the church service. As they climbed off the bus across from the old downtown church, Elle threw what must’ve been a curve at them. “Who would like to eat lunch?”
Several hands shot up.
“I’m very hungry, Teacher.” Gus looked at the others. “We’re starving.”
“Yes.” Tammy twirled one of her braids. “I could eat a cow.”
“Cow isn’t always good for you.” Sid pointed at her. “Cow should be cooked.”
Elle stifled a smile. “Very well.” She took in the faces around her. “How many of you brought money?”
All week, Elle had talked to them about field trips, and how if they were going out on the town they should be prepared. Preparation was a life skill, she told them. They should have their directions, and a cell phone, and ten dollars in case they needed to eat while they were out.
Now all but two students raised their hands. Some of them actually raised their money.
Elle told them to put their money back in their pockets. “Tommy’s Burgers is one block south.” Elle pointed in the right direction. “We have an hour before the church service. Let’s go eat.”
“See,” Tammy announced loudly. “We are having cow.” She stuck her tongue out at Sid as she walked past. “Cooked cow, Sid. Burgers are cooked cow.”
The first trouble of the day came at the restaurant.
One minute everything seemed to be going smoothly, and the next Tammy was standing and screaming, pointing at Gus. “Help him! Someone help him!”
Gus’s face was deep red, and he was grabbing at his throat. Drool hung at the corners of his mouth and he was stomping his feet in panic.
“Help him!” Tammy’s scream incited the rest of the group, and in an instant, all the students were on their fee
t shouting the same thing. “Help him! Someone help him!”
Cody was sitting by himself. As soon as he realized what was happening, he cut his way through the crowd, reached Gus, and positioned himself behind the young man. “Stand up straight, Gus.”
The guy did as he was asked. By now Elle was at their side. “Dear God.” She covered her mouth, her voice filled with fear. “Help us, Lord.”
Cody stayed behind him and slid his arms beneath Gus’s. He made a fist with one hand and cupped it with the other, then he pressed the fist against Gus’s stomach, in the hollow where his ribs met just below his chest. He pressed hard, jerking his hand in an upward motion. Then he did it again.
Some of the girls were screaming now, moving in tight circles. On the third thrust, a large piece of barely chewed hamburger flew from Gus’s mouth out onto the floor. He gasped for air. His eyes wide, he dropped to his knees and grabbed his throat with both hands.
Cody put his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Gus, you’re okay. Breathe out.”
But panic still had the best of him. He shook his head, fast and frenzied.
“Gus.” Cody used a stronger tone this time. “Breathe out. You’re okay, now just breathe out.”
Elle worked her way through the students, telling them that Gus was fine and asking them to sit back down. Two of the girls were still crying.
“Breathe out, Gus.” Cody leaned in closer. “You’re okay.”
Finally Gus did as he was told. He pursed his lips and blew out. He still had his hands around his throat, his eyes still bugged out of his face. But after a minute he struggled to his feet. He stared at Cody and then at Elle and back again. “I laughed.”
Tammy was shaking, but she approached Cody and explained what had happened. “Gus was telling a funny story.” She looked at the other two students who had been sitting at her table. “And he was eating and telling a funny story.”
“And”—one of the others grabbed his throat and stuck his tongue out—“no more words.”
Cody didn’t realize until then that he was shaking. Gus had waited longer than necessary to stand up, probably because choking was an unfamiliar concept to him. Carl Joseph had choked once when he was around ten or eleven. Cody still remembered their mother giving him the Heimlich maneuver and saving his life.
Gus finally relaxed the hold he had on his throat. He lowered his hands and, moving like a ninety-year-old man, he returned to his table. When he reached his chair, he turned and pointed at Cody. “He likes us now.”
“Yes, he likes us.” Tammy bent over in dramatic fashion, catching her own breath. When she straightened, she lifted both her hands toward the ceiling. “Thank You, God. Carl Joseph’s brother likes us.”
Cody felt the sting of tears in his eyes. It had taken this, but at least now the students trusted him.
Elle made her way to his side and touched his elbow. “Mr. Gunner . . .”
“Call me Cody.” He braced himself against the nearest chair and tried to catch his breath.
“Cody . . . thank you.” Her eyes still held fear, but it was mixed with an undeniable admiration. Maybe even an attraction. Her tone was drenched in relief. “Nothing like that . . . That’s never happened before.”
Cody looked at Carl Joseph. His brother had his hands over his face, and he was rocking. Daisy was talking to him through the spaces between his fingers. Cody sighed and turned to Elle again. “People with Down Syndrome sometimes have trouble swallowing.”
“I know. It’s one of the reasons we make sure the students are paired up when they move out on their own.”
Cody looked deep into her eyes. “Even then . . .” He wasn’t being defiant, just honest. “This sort of thing could always happen.” He walked over and crouched next to Carl Joseph. “Buddy, it’s okay. Gus is fine.”
Carl Joseph opened his fingers wider and peered at him. “Gus?”
“Yes, he’s okay.” Cody wasn’t sure if his brother was reacting this way because he remembered what had happened when he was younger. Either way, the event had traumatized him.
It took a half hour before the group relaxed enough to set out for the church. They walked together, and again Cody hung back. Ali had always wanted him to go to church with her, but they’d never gone. Their time was too short, and being around other people always represented a possibility of infection for her.
The day was overcast again, but Cody looked up and saw a slice of blue. Ali, you’d be proud of me. I’m going to church. A sad smile lifted his lips. It was happening. Her memory no longer consumed him. Thoughts of her were never far away, but they weren’t a part of every breath anymore. That would explain the feeling in his heart, the emptiness. He looked up ahead at Elle. She walked between Gus and Tammy, the three of them laughing.
And maybe it explained why he couldn’t stop thinking about a certain young teacher.
When they reached the church, Elle brought her finger to her lips and shushed the students. Cody was last in line, and she repeated the motion for his benefit. Then she added, “I mean it.”
Cody saluted her and filed in. A change had happened today, maybe because of the incident with Gus. There was a bond between him and Elle now, something he couldn’t quite define. He took a pew just behind the students, and watched how they filed in and found their seats. Two of the guys wore baseball caps. As they reached their seats, they removed their caps and placed them on the floor. Awe and wonder filled their faces. Gus dropped to his knees and bowed his head immediately, and several of the others did the same. A few merely looked around, spellbound by the old church.
An organist played two hymns, and then the pastor got things started. He welcomed Elle’s students and explained that God has a plan for every one of his children. Cody swallowed back a rush of emotion. Down Syndrome, God? Is that the plan You have for Carl Joseph and his friends?
There was no answer, nothing audible. But he remembered something his mother had said over the years when she spent time with Carl Joseph.
“Here on earth, we think Carl Joseph is handicapped. Won’t it be funny if we get to heaven one day and find out it was the other way around.”
Cody watched Carl Joseph, his head bowed in prayer. Their mother had a point.
He crossed his arms and lost focus on what was being said up front. Instead he thought about Ali, how she had believed so firmly that she would go to heaven, that she would meet up with the sister she lost as a child, and the two of them would ride horses forever across endless fields of green.
Cody wasn’t so sure.
He caught very little of the rest of the sermon, but when it was over, collection baskets were passed. Cody sat a little straighter and felt his blood begin to heat. Certainly the church wouldn’t be so bold as to take money from handicapped people. He slid into a pew adjacent to the group so he could see better.
Sure enough, the basket made its way back to Elle’s students, and one at a time they pulled out wads of one-dollar bills and coins and tossed them in. When the basket reached Carl Joseph, Cody watched him take out a stack of money, count five twenty-dollar bills, and place them in the basket.
Cody was on his feet before the basket could make it to the next person. A hundred dollars? Where would his brother have gotten that sort of money, and how could he throw it into a collection basket? He quietly approached the pew where his brother was sitting next to Daisy. When the basket reached the end of the row, Cody dug in and discreetly took out the five twenties. Then he whispered toward his brother. “Buddy, we need to go.”
“What?” Carl Joseph pushed his glasses up. He looked stunned by Cody’s request. He glanced at the students around him. Several of them noticed Cody and were clearly waiting to see what Carl Joseph would do. He looked back at Cody, and his face reddened. He leaned over Daisy’s legs and whispered loud, “Not now! This is church.”
“Come on.” Cody couldn’t wait another minute. They needed to catch a cab back to the center and get home. He gave his bro
ther a stern look. “Now.”
Carl Joseph respected him too much to argue. Despite his angry expression, he stood and moved past Daisy out into the aisle.
It was at that moment that Elle noticed what was happening. She excused herself and came to them, her eyes full of alarm. She, too, kept to a low whisper. “What’s going on?”
“We’re leaving.” Cody could feel the apology in his eyes. “My brother just dropped a hundred dollars in the plate.” A sad, whispered laugh escaped. “This isn’t for us. I’m sorry.”
He led the way and despite the horrified looks from the other students, Carl Joseph followed. When they were outside on the front steps of the church, Cody turned to Carl Joseph. He held up the five twenties. “What’s this, Buddy?”
Carl Joseph’s anger became sorrow. His shoulders fell a little. “My gift, Brother. My gift for Jesus.”
“Jesus doesn’t need a hundred dollars, Buddy.” Cody waved the bills at his brother. “You don’t know the first thing about money.”
“I know the first thing.” Carl Joseph held up his hand and stared at his fingers. He was so nervous, his entire arm shook. He appeared to be counting and after several seconds he held up his pointer finger. “I know one thing. Gifts are for Jesus.”
Cody’s heart broke for his brother. He found a kinder tone. “Where’d you get this money, Buddy?”
His brother made a series of exasperated sounds and turned in small half circles. Then he stopped and pointed at Cody. “I worked, Brother. I worked for that money.”
“Doing what?” Cody hated his tone, hated that this would be yet another time when he and Carl Joseph would struggle to find the friendship that had always come so easily for them. But he had to make a point. He had never heard about his brother holding a job. He softened his tone again. “Are you lying, Buddy?”
“No!” Carl Joseph shouted the word.
Cody hesitated. “Let’s get a cab.” They crossed the street at the light, and Cody scanned the traffic in either direction. As he did, a soft rain began to fall.