Just Beyond the Clouds

  “Buddy . . .” Cody couldn’t believe it. Less than a hundred days of rain a year, and today had to be one of them.

  “Rain!” Carl Joseph gasped and looked up at the sky. “Daisy! Daisy might get wet!” He reached his hand out toward the church across the street. “Daisy, don’t get wet!” Then, before Cody could stop him, he lurched off the curb and straight into oncoming traffic.

  In a blur of motion, a van swerved to miss Carl Joseph, but its rear view mirror caught him by the arm and knocked him to the ground. Traffic screeched to a halt, and several drivers laid on their horns.

  “Buddy!” Cody ran into the road. Carl Joseph lay on his stomach, sprawled out and unmoving. His arm was bleeding where the vehicle had hit it. “Buddy!” Cody dropped to his knees next to his brother. “Talk to me, Buddy.”

  The driver of the van, a young guy, was walking toward them, his face pale. “I’m sorry. . . . He jumped right in front of me.”

  Cody screamed at the guy. “Call 911! Now!”

  He lowered his face close to Carl Joseph’s. “Buddy, I need you to talk to me.”

  The rain was falling harder, and after a few terrifying seconds Carl Joseph lifted his head and looked at the church. His cheek was scraped, but otherwise he looked okay. This time he held out his good arm, the one that wasn’t bleeding. “Daisy hates the rain.”

  Cody’s eyes filled with tears. “Where are you hurt, Buddy? Tell me.”

  “In my heart.” Carl Joseph heaved himself into a sitting position, oblivious to the traffic stopped all around him. He put his hand over his chest and gave Cody a condemning look. “I hurt in my heart.”

  Cody carefully helped his brother to the curb. By the time the ambulance arrived, Cody was pretty sure his brother was going to be okay. Physically, anyway. He was given permission to accompany him to the hospital, and the last thing he saw as they closed the door was Elle Dalton and several students on the front steps of the church.

  His eyes met hers, and there was no need for explanation. Carl Joseph had been hit by a car, the very thing Cody had feared. But it hadn’t happened because of anything Elle Dalton had taught or failed to teach. It was his fault, entirely. Why had he overreacted? So, his brother gave a hundred dollars. . . . They could’ve talked about it later, at home. Carl Joseph had been having the time of his life—sitting next to Daisy, surrounded by his friends, praying to a God he believed in. What was Cody thinking pulling him from the service like that?

  The ambulance took a sharp turn. Cody was thankful that they kept the sirens off. He put his hand on his brother’s foot. “You okay, Buddy?”

  “Daisy . . .” He covered his face and shook his head. “Daisy needs my coat.”

  Cody silently cursed himself. “I’m sorry, Buddy.”

  He lowered his hands and slowly lifted his head enough so that their eyes met. Hurt and betrayal filled Carl Joseph’s expression. “I didn’t lie, Brother.” He rested his head back on the stretcher and began whispering, “Sorry, Daisy. . . . Sorry about the rain.”

  Cody hated this, hated what he’d just done. Since he’d been home he’d only worked to make Carl Joseph unhappy and uncomfortable. Maybe he belonged back on the circuit, after all. He closed his eyes. If he hadn’t pulled his brother from the service, Carl Joseph would be fine. Instead, the accident would likely sway his parents that the doctor was right. Carl Joseph was not suited to a life of independence. And in the big scheme of things, the doctor was probably right. Carl Joseph was safer at home.

  After today, the answer would be obvious to everyone in his family. Carl Joseph’s days at the Independent Living Center were over.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Carl Joseph was lying in a big white hospital bed.

  He stared out the window at the rain. It kept falling and falling but he couldn’t help Daisy. He couldn’t give her his coat. He didn’t even know where she was.

  Brother was sitting next to him, but he didn’t want to talk to Brother, except sometimes. He looked at him now. “I didn’t lie.”

  “I know.” Brother put his hand on the bed. “I’m sorry, Buddy. I know you didn’t lie.”

  “I didn’t.” He looked out the window at the rain again. “Mom gave me jobs, and I worked for Mom. ’Cause all winter I brought in firewood. Every time she asked. And I stacked firewood.”

  “Mom and Dad will be here any minute, Buddy. Everyone’s glad you’re okay.”

  Carl Joseph turned to Brother again. “ ’Cause my heart is not okay. Daisy might get wet.”

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Brother stood up and walked to the door. Then he came back again. His eyes looked red. “You think this is all my fault, Buddy, and you’re right. It is my fault. I didn’t understand about the gift for Jesus.” He breathed hard. “I’m sorry. I should’ve let you stay.”

  “Yes.” Carl Joseph nodded. His cheek hurt and it hurt to turn his neck. “The field trip was not done.”

  “I know.” Brother sat back down in the chair near the bed. “You didn’t want to leave yet.”

  Carl Joseph touched the owie on his face. He looked back at the rainy sky. “Daisy might get wet. ’Cause I tried to get her, but the traffic . . .”

  “Daisy is fine. I talked to your teacher. She wanted you to know that Daisy is not wet, okay?” Brother sounded sad. “Remember?”

  “Yeah, ’cause Daisy might want my jacket.” Carl Joseph saw his parents in the doorway.

  His mother took a deep breath and ran to him. “Carl Joseph!” She leaned over and hugged him. “I was so worried!”

  “Be careful. He has a bruised sternum, Mom.” Brother crossed his arms. He stepped back so Dad could get in close. “No internal injuries, though. Just a few bruises.”

  Carl Joseph looked at his mother. He felt glad to see her. “ ’Cause my heart hurts.”

  “He’s talking about Daisy.” Brother leaned in and looked at her. His voice had a lot of sorry in it. “The doctor said he’s going to be fine.”

  “ ’Cause Daisy might get wet.” He pointed at Brother. “He took my gift for Jesus.”

  Brother didn’t say anything. He just hung his head down low.

  “Carl Joseph”—Mom hugged him again—“I was so worried about you.”

  “Me, too.” Dad touched his face. The good side. “Thank God you’re okay.”

  “Yeah, ’cause Brother took my gift for Jesus.”

  “Okay, well, we’ll talk to Cody about that.” His mom kissed his head. She gave Brother a look, and Dad did, too. Then Mom pointed to the hall and Brother nodded. She turned back to him. “We need to talk to Cody. We’ll be right out in the hall, and then we’ll come back, okay?”

  Carl Joseph didn’t want to say it was okay. He didn’t want Mom and Dad to talk to Brother in the hall ’cause that’s where they might think of bad news. Very bad. He felt tears, and he blinked four times fast. Then he looked from his mom to his dad. “Hurry.”

  They said they would, and they followed Brother out into the hall. Carl Joseph tried to stop the tears, ’cause sometimes kids at school said, “Baby, baby,” if he had tears. He looked at the rain and the tears came harder. ’Cause Daisy might get wet and she might need his jacket.

  And ’cause Mom and Dad and Brother had bad news in the hall.

  Very bad.

  HIS PARENTS WAITED until they were far enough away from Carl Joseph’s room that he couldn’t hear them. Then Cody’s father stared at him. “Tell us what happened.”

  “Was it a seizure?” His mom’s face was pale. She gripped his father’s arm, and there was a cry in her voice. “The doctor warned us about this.”

  And like that, Cody had his chance. His parents were afraid, the way he knew they’d be. A week ago, he would’ve been grateful that finally they had their proof. Evidence that Carl Joseph couldn’t make it on his own.

  But that wasn’t the truth, not now, anyway.

  “It wasn’t a seizure.” Cody folded his arms and looked at the floor. “It was my fault.” He
lifted his eyes, but instead of finding his voice, he was seized by sorrow. Because of his careless actions, Carl Joseph had nearly been killed.

  His father took hold of his shoulder. “Son, it’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not.” He gritted his teeth. “I’ve been wrong.” He searched his parents’ eyes and the entire story tumbled out, every honest detail.

  He explained about the incident in the church, how Carl Joseph had placed a hundred dollars in the collection basket. “Which is crazy.” He held up his hands. “A hundred dollars?”

  Something came over his mother’s expression. “Oh, no . . .” She covered her mouth with one hand and shook her head. “I knew about that.” Her face was ashen. “I forgot to tell you.”

  His father looked confused. “I didn’t hear about this.”

  Mary sighed and absently massaged her neck. “Carl Joseph worked for me all winter, bringing in firewood, stacking it, making sure we always had enough to keep the house warm. He made four hundred dollars.”

  Cody felt his heart sink another notch. “Still . . . he doesn’t understand the value, Mom.”

  “He does.” She smiled, but another layer of tears filled her eyes. “He said his gift was half an iPod, fifty bottles of milk, or about four bags of groceries. He told me it was four pairs of jeans or ten T-shirts. He knew how much money it was.”

  Cody moaned. He let his head fall back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. Why did everything have to be so confusing? No matter how kind Carl Joseph’s intentions, a person with so little income-earning potential should never throw a hundred dollars in an offering plate. But did that mean he couldn’t live on his own? If living on his own was what he wanted?

  “I think . . .” He drew a slow breath and tried to put his thoughts in order. He’d been thinking about this moment since they arrived at the hospital, since he’d known Carl Joseph was okay, and he’d had time to analyze the situation. He looked from his father to his mom. “I see what you mean about the center. I think it might be good for Carl Joseph.”

  For half a minute his parents only stared at him, mouths slightly open. Then his mother exchanged a worried frown with his dad. “Cody”—she turned her attention back to him—“we’ve made a decision. Carl Joseph’s health is too unsteady.”

  “We’re pulling him from the center.”

  Cody could hardly believe it. The tables had turned, but after Carl Joseph’s accident and the doctor’s advice earlier that week, there wasn’t much to say. “I don’t know about independent living”—he shifted his weight—“but that center’s good for Carl Joseph.” Angry tears clouded his vision. “He loves it there.”

  “We’ve made up our minds.” His father’s voice was calm, but certain. “Your mother and I have talked about having you work with Carl Joseph.”

  “You were looking for a way to be more involved, remember?” His mother touched his elbow. “That’s what you said when you came home.”

  Cody didn’t respond. Anything he might say would make him sound delusional. After all, he had wanted safety for Carl Joseph whatever the cost.

  They went on about how Cody could teach his brother ranch work, how to help with Ace and how to keep the fence around the property in working order. How to clear land and trim hedges—that sort of thing.

  “Eventually he could take over for one of our ranch hands.” His father sounded as if he’d been thinking about this for a while. “Carl Joseph could make a living right at home.”

  “Yes.” His mother’s tone was hopeful. “I found a program at the park for people with Down Syndrome. Something social, without the goal of independence. Something to help replace the center.”

  Nothing would replace the center. Cody understood that now. The idea sounded safe. Constructive. But would it give Carl Joseph a reason to look forward to Fridays? Cody’s heart ached. He pictured Carl Joseph, the way he’d looked earlier today, basking in the light of his special friend. He peered back toward the hospital room and then at his parents. “What about Daisy?”

  “She can visit.” His mother’s answer was quick. “Her parents can bring her over any time.”

  “He has friends at the center.” Cody’s argument was only half-hearted.

  “He’ll make new friends.” His father sighed. “We have no choice, Cody.”

  Defeat settled in around Cody’s soul. He could hardly argue. After the accident, Carl Joseph might need a month before he was stable enough to leave the house. Based on the doctor’s advice and today’s accident they had little choice, really.

  Cody felt his determination build. If this was a season in Carl Joseph’s life when Cody could help him get stronger or teach him how to be a ranch hand, so be it. He’d take him to the new classes and help him get stronger. He’d do it to the best of his ability. He owed Carl Joseph that much. Especially after today. His parents’ plan might work, even if it wasn’t what his buddy wanted.

  Now it was only a matter of breaking the news to Carl Joseph.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mary Gunner hovered over a stack of dishes in the kitchen sink and watched Cody pound out of the barn on Ace. His frustration was at an all-time high. Mary watched him go, and she felt her anxiety grow. So far the new plan wasn’t coming together the way any of them had hoped. She sighed and adjusted the drain plug so it was tight against the base of the sink. Then she squirted dish soap in and around the plates and cups and turned on the hot water.

  The old farmhouse didn’t have a dishwasher, but Mary had never minded. She enjoyed washing dishes. It gave her time to look out the window at the distant fields and foothills. Here, with her hands in warm, soapy water and her eyes on the endless ranchland, she always believed that somehow everything would work out.

  But today she had her doubts.

  Carl Joseph had stayed in the hospital overnight while they watched his heart. It had slipped into a weak rhythm after the accident, and his doctor wanted to be sure he was completely back to normal before he came home. By the time they released him, all his tests were fine, and Carl Joseph was ready to go home, ready to get back to his life.

  His new life.

  That afternoon, she and Mike and Cody sat down to explain the situation to Carl Joseph.

  Mike had started the conversation. “We’re proud of you, son. You know that.” He leaned over his knees and rested on his forearms. He never broke eye contact with Carl Joseph.

  “ ’Cause I’m growing up and Teacher is teaching me.” Carl Joseph looked nervous. He shifted his attention from Mike to her, and finally to Cody. “I was on a field trip.”

  Mary could see the accusation in Carl Joseph’s eyes. He might not have confronted Cody, but he was angry. He hadn’t acted the same around his older brother since the accident. Cody stared at the old wooden table. Mike cleared his throat. “We have some new ideas for you, son. All of us think they could be a very good change for you.”

  “Change?” Carl Joseph pushed his glasses up his nose and knit his brows together. “At the center?”

  Mary couldn’t bear to drag the inevitable out any longer. “Carl Joseph, you’re not going back to the center. Not for now, anyway.”

  “What?” His mouth hung open, and he took a few seconds to stare at each of the faces around him. A loud exasperated sound came from him. He stood and walked a few steps, then he came back and sat down. All the while the shock never left his face. “I like the center.”

  “But it might not be safe.” Mary reached out and held Carl Joseph’s hand. “You were nearly killed on Friday.”

  Carl Joseph stared at Cody for a long time. Then he turned back to his mom and said, “ ’Cause Daisy might get wet.”

  “I know.” Mary felt her throat get thick. If only there was a way to make Carl Joseph understand.

  Mike took over then. “We thought maybe Cody could work with you, teach you how to be a cowboy here on the ranch. That would be a great life skill.”

  “Brother. . . .” Carl Joseph turned a blank l
ook at Cody. “Brother is not Teacher.”

  “But I can teach you a lot about working a ranch, Buddy.” Cody’s voice was tender. “Give it a try, okay? I have some good ideas.”

  Carl Joseph seemed to sense defeat. He nodded and his shoulders slumped forward. Then, without saying another word, he stood and headed slowly down the hall toward his room.

  Mary had replayed the scene a hundred times since then.

  Since that day, Carl Joseph had spent a few hours each afternoon learning ranch skills, but his heart wasn’t in it. That much was clear to everyone. Mary blew at a wisp of hair. So what was the answer?

  She heard the pounding of hooves across the grass out back. Cody came into view, he and Ace flying across the ranch toward the old farmhouse. As they drew closer to the barn, they slowed and came to a stop. Cody was breathing hard, Mary could see that much through the kitchen window. He leaned close to the horse’s mane, the way he often did.

  All last week, he’d been a different person. Happier, more engaged in conversation. But now . . . now he was the same sad Cody he’d been for the past four years. She studied him, the way he held himself, the way grief still tugged at his shoulders and his jaw line. Poor Cody. He missed Ali so much. The day she died, she took with her so much more than his lung. His excitement and love and laughter. She took those, too. He was lost without her. He wore his sorrow like a thick cloak—especially when he was on Ace.

  Mary watched Cody and Ace head back out toward the far fence again. Cody was struggling with more than missing Ali. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t find the familiar friendship with Carl Joseph. They hadn’t visited the park program yet, but Cody had his doubts. They all did.

  She drew a breath and returned to the dishes. Something would have to give soon, because neither of her sons was happy. Carl Joseph mostly kept to his room. Once in a while Mary would catch him at the computer trying to compose a letter to Daisy. But his frustration generally won out before he finished.