“No.” Carl Joseph looked at the ground. “He’s riding Ace a lot.”
“Ace the dog?”
Carl Joseph laughed so hard his glasses fell onto his lap. He helped them back up onto his nose. “That’s funny, Daisy. You made a good joke.”
She put her fingers over her lips and giggled. “Riding a dog, CJ. That’s funny, right? Real funny.”
“Yeah.” Carl Joseph waited until he stopped laughing. “Ace isn’t a dog. He’s Ali’s horse. When Brother’s sad he rides Ace.”
“Oh.” Daisy patted his hand. “I’m sorry about that.”
Just as she said the word “sorry,” the first raindrops hit Carl Joseph’s forehead. He opened his eyes wide and looked at Daisy. “Uh-oh.”
At first she didn’t know what was happening, but then she felt drops on her arm. “Rain! Raaaaain!” She spread her fingers over her face, stood up, and began turning in tight circles. “Rain!”
“It’s okay.” Carl Joseph looked at the sky. He felt scared and nervous all at once. He reached out and tried to catch her, tried to make her stop turning circles. But by the time she stopped, the rain was falling harder and harder. He pulled off his jacket and held it over her. “Come on, Daisy.”
“CJ . . . I’m scared!”
He kept his jacket over her head and ran next to her toward the building. There was an overhang outside, and they reached the place beneath it at the same time as the other students. Everyone else walked past them into the classroom. A few girls patted Daisy on the back as they passed. “It’s all right, Daisy. It’s just rain, that’s all.”
When they were alone, Carl Joseph pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay, Daisy. I’m here.” He wiped the water off her back and patted her hair. Daisy was scared to death of rain. She had been ever since they met. Teacher said it was a good thing they lived in Colorado where the rain didn’t come very often.
But when it did . . .
Daisy was crying. She put her face against his shoulder, and when she was done crying she looked at him. Fear was still in her eyes. “Water melted the Wicked Witch of the West, CJ. Do you know that?”
“I do.” Carl Joseph nodded. “The witch in The Wizard of Oz. She died from water.”
“Right.” Daisy peered out at the stormy sky. “That’s why I’m afraid.”
He patted her cheek. “But you’re not a witch, Daisy. You’re not a witch at all.”
“I know.” She hugged him again. “But it’s still water.”
Carl Joseph thought about that. “True.” The rain stopped then and he led her to the edge of the dry area. “Look out there, Daisy.”
“I’m scared.” She clung to him, and she wouldn’t look up.
“Please, Daisy. Please look.” He put his arm around her. “I have a secret for you.”
That seemed to make her think. She relaxed her shoulders and sniffed. “What?”
“Good!” Carl Joseph clapped his hands together loud. “I knew I could make you look.”
“But why?” Daisy shook her head. She looked ready to run away.
Carl Joseph didn’t want her to run. “Look up there.” He pointed at the sky.
She looked, but she stayed close to him. She was still afraid. “What?”
“There’s sunshine up there, Daisy.” He put his hand over his eyes and squinted. “Just beyond the clouds.”
For a long moment she thought about that. “Really?”
“Really.” He laughed but not because he had told a joke. Because he was happy. “Sunshine just beyond the clouds.”
He was about to take her back into the classroom when Teacher came out. “Daisy . . . I was in the supply room. I didn’t know it was raining.” The two sisters hugged. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Daisy looked at him, and her eyes were sparkly diamonds again. The fear was gone from her eyes. “CJ helped me.”
“He gave you his coat.” Teacher smiled at him. “That’s very nice, Carl Joseph.”
“No, not that.” Daisy moved back beside him. She linked her arm through his the way she sometimes did. “He told me about the sunshine.”
Teacher looked unsure about that. “Sunshine?”
“Yes.” Daisy led Carl Joseph back to the place where they could see the sky. “Up there. Just beyond the clouds.”
Teacher looked up at the sky and little bits of tears came into her eyes. She hugged herself and then she said something quiet mixed in with her breath. “Yeah . . . I never thought about it that way.”
They went back into the classroom, but before they took their spots in the living room area, Carl Joseph watched Teacher. That’s when he remembered something. Daisy had prayed for Cody. She had told him a few times already that he should, too. So maybe it was his turn to pray. He could ask God to help Teacher. He found his seat and covered his face.
God . . . help Teacher, please. Whatever she needs. That’s all. Amen.
He opened his eyes and looked at Teacher again. She still looked sad. And those were for sure tears on her cheeks outside a minute ago. He understood when Daisy cried. She had a reason to be sad, because she was afraid of the rain. But Teacher needed a lot of prayers said for her. Because she was just as sad but there was no reason.
Teacher wasn’t afraid of the rain even one tiny bit.
Chapter Four
Cody finally felt as if he could breathe again. His parents owned twenty acres in the foothills near Colorado Springs, and after two days at home Cody wondered why he’d ever left. He had a small house at the far western end of his parents’ ranch. He didn’t need his own place; not while he was living on the road. The PBR season ran from January to November with only a six-week break.
He could get a house later.
For now, his parents’ place was enough. Ace was here, Ali’s horse. He could ride and remember and spend time with Carl Joseph. And now he could even think clearly. He showered early that morning and walked over to his parents’ house. The bad news about Carl Joseph was worse than Cody expected. He had epilepsy. Several times a week lately he’d fallen into major seizures—the type the doctors called grand mal. The seizures came along with another diagnosis. Carl Joseph’s heart disease was worse. Not just his arteries, but the heart itself.
His prognosis for a long life was dim.
Cody wasn’t willing to settle for that, any more than he’d been willing to settle for Ali’s diagnosis. There had to be something they could do to help Carl Joseph strengthen his heart.
His buddy must’ve seen him coming, because he opened the back door and came running out. “Hi, Brother! It’s a good morning!” He pointed at the sky. “See that? A bright sunny good morning.”
“Yeah, Buddy.” Cody smiled. What was it about the kid? Every time Cody was with him he felt happier, like he might just survive after all. “It’s a great day.”
“You know what?” Carl Joseph put his hands on his knees. His eyes lit up. “I think I wanna be a bull rider like you.”
“I know, Buddy.” Cody messed up his brother’s hair. “You tell me that every time.”
“Because I wanna be a world-famous bull rider like you, Brother.”
“Bull riders get hurt.” He put his arm around Carl Joseph’s shoulders and they headed toward the back door.
“Yeah.” Carl Joseph’s smile faded. “That’s true.”
Cody pushed the door open and they moved inside to the breakfast table. Their mother was fixing scrambled eggs, cheese, and bell peppers. His favorite. When they were seated, Cody planted his elbows on the table. “You could work at the ranch here, Buddy. That’s good work for you.”
“No.” Carl Joseph shook his head. It took a lot to fluster him, but this time talk about bull riding seemed to be more than a lighthearted way to carry on a conversation. “No, that’s not okay. I wanna be a bull rider.” He slammed his fist on the table. “Starting today.”
“Whoa . . .” Cody looked from Carl Joseph to their mother. “What’s this all about?”
His mo
ther was stirring the eggs. She looked over her shoulder at Carl Joseph. “You wanna tell your brother what this is all about?”
“Okay.” Carl Joseph sat up straighter in his chair. “Daisy likes bull riders. She told me so.”
Cody blinked. “Daisy?” He looked at his mother. Inside, the beginnings of something unsettling stirred in his gut. “Who’s Daisy?”
“She’s my girl.” Carl Joseph slapped himself on the chest. “My girl, Brother. She likes bull riders ’cause I told her you were a bull rider and she smiled really, really big. So you teach me, Brother, okay?”
“Tell you what”—he tried not to sound bothered—“let’s start with Ace. You can take a ride around the arena with me. How ’bout that?”
“ ’Cause that’s a start, right?”
“Right.” Cody stood. He tapped the table between them. “I’ll be back, Buddy.”
“Okay.” Carl Joseph chuckled and clapped hard. Then he looked straight up. “I’m gonna be a bull rider. Thank You, God.”
Cody turned his attention to his mother. She was stirring the eggs again, but she had to know he was coming her way. He reached her elbow and leaned around so she could see his face. “Who’s Daisy?”
“He told you.” She kept her eyes from his. “Daisy’s his friend.”
“I’ve been home for three days.” He made an exaggerated move and looked out the window. “I haven’t seen any girls hanging around the place. So who’s Daisy?”
His mother released a loud sigh. “Look, Cody, don’t overreact.” She put the spatula down on the counter and faced him. “Your brother’s getting older. He has friends now.”
Cody’s head was spinning. Carl Joseph had friends? “Is this that class thing you were telling me about?”
“Yes.” She sighed and met his eyes. “I take him to a center in town. Everyone there has Down Syndrome.”
“Including Daisy?” He felt himself relax. The idea of an able-bodied girl falling for Carl Joseph seemed wrong. He couldn’t stand the idea that maybe his brother had fallen for a girl who would never have feelings for him. But if she had Down Syndrome like him . . .
“Yes.” His mother picked up the spatula again and started stirring. “Daisy has Down Syndrome. She’s twenty-one, four years younger than Carl Joseph.” She turned off the stove and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “They like to swing dance and sing Mickey Mouse songs, and they dream of going to Disneyland one day. Daisy helps Carl Joseph talk quieter, and he helps her not be so afraid of the rain. It’s a simple, sweet friendship, Cody.” She moved the pan to the island countertop. “It’s good for your brother.”
“Okay.” Cody felt much better. “So he’s getting out more, socializing. This class thing is . . . I don’t know . . . sort of a play group kind of thing.” He looked over his shoulder at his brother, then back again. “Right?”
His mother tilted her head sideways, considering his definition. “Sort of. It’s good for him, that’s all I know. I’ve seen differences.”
Cody hesitated. “Good. Differences are good.”
“If he can keep going.” Her expression changed. “With the epilepsy . . . the doctor isn’t sure . . .”
“We can talk about it later.” He reached for a stack of plates in the cupboard just as he heard his dad’s voice behind him.
“Carl Joseph, you look good.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’m seeing Daisy today.”
“Yeah, I just found out about Daisy.” Cody set the plates next to the pan of eggs and gave his dad a tentative smile. “I guess I never thought about Carl Joseph having, you know . . . a girl.”
“It isn’t like that.” His mother pulled a stack of napkins out and set them on the counter. “Come and eat, Carl Joseph.”
Come and eat? Cody started to say something, but he stopped himself. The last time he was home, Carl Joseph was served at the table—same as always. He wasn’t stable enough to fill his plate and carry it across the room without spilling or dropping it altogether. Cody tapped softly at his mom’s arm. “He learned this?”
“Yes.” His mom looked proud. “And table manners, too.”
“Really?”
His dad joined them in the kitchen. “Really. Carl Joseph is capable of much more than we ever thought, Cody. It’s amazing.”
Carl Joseph was still on his way into the kitchen from the dining room, so he hadn’t heard any of their conversation. Cody stared at his father and tried to think of a comeback. His comments bugged Cody. Maybe because Cody knew he was never happy about having a son with Down Syndrome. Back when Carl Joseph was two years old, their dad had left home and stayed away for nineteen years because he couldn’t bear to be the father of a handicapped child.
So what was this? His dad’s attempt at making Carl Joseph more like normal kids? Cody kept his thoughts to himself. He hung back and watched Carl Joseph choose a plate, scoop up a serving of eggs, and take a napkin and fork from the counter. He carried the plate back to the dining room table and sat down without even a little shakiness.
“Okay . . .” Cody filled his plate and took the place across from his brother. “Buddy, you’re doing great.”
“Thanks.” All his life, Carl Joseph had held his fork like a shovel, and after a few bites when his balance weakened, the food would fall back to the plate and he would shovel it into his mouth with his fingers. Then he would chomp hard, his mouth open, bits falling back to his plate as he chewed. Not today. He was concentrating, no doubt. But he lifted a forkful of eggs into his mouth, chewed with his mouth closed, and swallowed. Then he used the napkin to dab at the corners of his mouth.
“Cody’s right.” Their dad smiled at Carl Joseph. “You’re doing very, very well. We’re all proud of you.”
“Daisy’s proud.” Carl Joseph put his fork down and folded his hands in his lap.
Cody watched his brother for a few more minutes. The classes must’ve been a very good thing for his brother. A few lessons on social graces, a little social interaction . . . Carl Joseph should’ve gone to the center years ago.
Carl Joseph focused on his breakfast, and Cody turned his attention to the reason he was home. He set his fork down and looked at his parents. “I need a change.”
His mother hesitated midbite. “A change?”
“Yes.” He pushed his plate back and rested his forearms on the table. “I’m not under contract for the rest of the season. They want me, but I haven’t agreed yet.”
His parents waited for him to continue.
“I love bull riding, don’t get me wrong.” Cody raked his fingers through his dark hair.
“Me, too.” Carl Joseph looked up. “Brother’s going to teach me to bull ride, right, Brother?”
“One day.” Cody smiled at him. He turned back to his dad. “I want to do something different, something that matters. Maybe open a sports center, or raise bulls here at the ranch. So I can be around family more.”
“You could do just about anything.” His dad sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. “I didn’t know you were considering a change.”
His mother sat a little straighter. Her eyes were thoughtful. “I’ve been hoping for this.”
Cody took a drink of his orange juice. “That I’d leave the circuit?”
“Yes.” She dragged her fork through her eggs. “Because until you do, you’ll never get over Ali. You carry her with you every time you hit the road.”
For a long moment, Cody held his breath. His mother meant nothing by her comment, he knew that with every heartbeat. But how could he make them understand that he wasn’t a victim of Ali’s memory? He was the owner of it. He didn’t want to move on or let her go. He just needed a place where her image wasn’t around every corner.
“Don’t be angry, Cody.” She reached toward him and put her hand over his. “I loved Ali. We all did.”
“But Ali makes you sad, Brother.” Carl Joseph waved his fork in Cody’s direction. At the same instant, he seemed to notice what he was doing. He b
rought his fork back down to his plate. “I think Ali makes you sad.”
“What your mother’s trying to say, son, is . . . well, it’s been four years.” His father’s voice was tender.
Anger rose inside Cody. He focused on his eggs and ate them more quickly than he planned. When he was finished he stood and took his plate to the kitchen. “I’ll be out back.”
“Cody . . .” his mother called after him. “We’re only saying that—”
He was out the door before she finished her sentence. He knew what they were saying, and it wasn’t their fault. Four years was a long time. But not for him. He stormed out to the barn and a memory flashed bold and brilliant in his mind. The time when Ali had rushed out of her parents’ house, the day she found out that he knew the truth about her illness.
She ran to the barn and climbed onto Ace just as he reached her.
“Ali, get down. We need to talk.” He stood in front of her, his heart pounding.
“I didn’t want you to know. Not yet.” She pressed her fingers to her chest. “It was my place to tell you.”
No matter what he said, she wouldn’t climb down off the horse, so finally he climbed up behind her. With her at the reins, the horse raced across the open field to the trail and on out to the back fence. By then, Ali was so upset she could barely breathe. She fell into an asthma attack. He held her and coaxed her, and by some sort of miracle she found space in her damaged lungs to grab a breath.
Cody held on to the memory as he rounded the corner of the barn and saddled Ace. He brought the horse to a full run and set out on the trail that led to his house on the other side of the property. Atop Ace, he could almost feel Ali in front of him, almost sense her slight back against his chest, her hair in his face.
When his parents’ house was out of sight, Cody stopped. His sides heaved and he had to concentrate to catch his breath. It had been that way ever since the transplant operation. He stared at the sky, at the white cumulus clouds dotting the blue. Of course he carried Ali with him every time he hit the road. Was he supposed to leave rodeo because of that?
Cody leaned over Ace and rested his forehead on the horse’s mane. No one understood. It wasn’t only the rodeo. He carried Ali with him everywhere he went. This break was supposed to give him a chance, an hour or two when he didn’t see her face or hear her voice. When the sights and sounds and smells didn’t make him think it was eight years ago and she was still by his side.