On Blue Falls Pond

by Susan Crandall

  As her gaze moved to Scott, Glory felt the pinch of shame once again. Why was she so closed to this child? A child who needed so much; a little boy hiding from the world, who felt comfortable only in the company of a sweet brown dog.

  Eric continued to tell her of the different programs and clinics he’d been reading about that assisted children with delayed developmental disorders. Glory tried to focus her attention on the details, ready to offer her opinion if he were to ask for it. Of course, she wouldn’t presume to comment otherwise.

  After he exhausted his list, he did ask. She carefully offered her immediate impression of the different approaches—certain to prefix her opinion with the fact that she had absolutely no experience in this area.

  “But,” she admitted aloud for the first time, “I have been considering learning a whole lot more.” She stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing her ankles. She hadn’t yet mentioned her idea to Granny. “I read an article about trained companion and service dogs the other day. After seeing firsthand how calmed Scott is by Lady”—she glanced at the two sitting side by side, Scott’s hand running back and forth over Lady’s back—“I think there could be a real need. I’m considering taking whatever instruction is required, then starting a training program for the dogs. I worked with animals in my last couple of jobs.”

  Eric’s first question wasn’t at all what she expected. “Here? You’ll set up your program here?” He leaned slightly forward as he waited for her answer.

  The intensity in his eyes made her hesitate. Did he want her to stay? Or to get out of Dodge so she didn’t complicate things with Jill and Scott?

  Glory decided not to answer straightaway. Instead, she gathered her courage and marched into territory filled with emotional land mines. “I saw Jill on Friday. She said you three were going on a picnic yesterday afternoon.” She let the comment lie and waited for Eric’s response. If it had been an insignificant occurrence, why hadn’t he mentioned it?

  “Yeah,” Eric said. “We were talking about Scott’s doctors.”

  She studied him for a moment. A long afternoon in the park seemed like an unlikely place for a divorced couple to discuss their child’s future—unless it was a case of mixing business with pleasure. Would he be honest with her and tell her they were considering reconciliation?

  Then he added, almost defensively, “I told you we were going to work together to find help for Scott.”

  “I know. Is there something else you want to tell me?”

  He looked genuinely perplexed. “Such as?”

  In that instant, Glory wanted to back away from the entire conversation. How could she question him about his intentions with his ex, when he’d made absolutely no promises to Glory? In fact, he’d been very clear that he would do whatever was necessary for the welfare of his son.

  She lifted a shoulder and busied her hands with her paper napkin. “It’s just—”

  A couple of ATVs started up and were unloaded from a trailer, revving engines drowning out her words. She turned toward the commotion until the four-wheelers sped away and the noise subsided. When she glanced back at Eric, she saw he hadn’t been distracted in the least. His sharp brown gaze remained as focused on her.

  When she didn’t repeat herself, he said, “Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you? And while you’re at it, you can answer my question—are you staying?”

  She licked her lips, stalling. It was so complicated. One thing hinged on another, and that one on the next—Eric, Granny, Scott, Jill, Ovella and Walt, Glory’s past, her plans for a business.

  “Hey, you two!” Charlie came up and sat down on the edge of the blanket. He had two cold bottles of beer in his hands. He offered one to Eric.

  Eric gave Glory a quick look that said this conversation wasn’t over. Then said to Charlie, “No, thanks. With all of the equipment showing up,”—he motioned toward the four-wheelers—“I’d better stay sharp.”

  Charlie laughed. “Granny always threatened to get an ambulance to stand by when we all get together. Maybe that’s why she invited you; less conspicuous than a big white truck with a red cross on the side and ambulance written backward on the windshield. Did you bring your first-aid kit?”

  “Built right into the Explorer; never go anywhere without it.”

  Charlie then held the beer out to Glory. “How ’bout you?”

  She raised a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to offer to the lady first? What if he’d taken it—would I get yours?” For once she was thankful that cousin Charlie was about as perceptive of what was going on around him as a dog on scent. Anyone else might have picked up on the vibe that they’d interrupted a serious conversation.

  “No way, man.” Charlie hugged his beer to his chest. “And as far as being a lady . . .”

  Glory slapped him lightly on the back of his head.

  “Hey!” He ducked and rubbed his head as if she’d really clobbered him. “I was just getting ready to say Eric is company. Don’t you have any manners, girl?”

  Just then Charlie’s middle son, Curtis, came running up. “Daddy! Daddy! Jared won’t let me have a turn on the dirt bike.”

  Glory blinked. Curtis was only eight; he didn’t belong on a dirt bike.

  “Curtis, say hello to Mr. Wilson, cousin Glory, and Scott.”

  Curtis scrunched his freckled face and managed a “Hello” to Glory and Eric. His face relaxed when he added, “Hi, Scott.” His accent was so strong that it sounded more like Haah; the fact that Glory noticed it said she had been gone too long. It was amazing how quickly the ear changed to accommodate the location. Upon her return she had realized she’d taken up the northern way of pronouncing her home state, with the accent on the last syllable. Down here it was Tenn’essee.

  Curtis asked, “Scott, want to come see the dirt bike?”

  Scott did shift his gaze from the dog to Curtis at least briefly.

  Eric looked tempted to take a chance and see if Scott would actually go with Curtis. In the end he said, “Maybe later, Curtis. Thanks for asking.”

  “Okay.” Curtis’s gaze returned to his father. “Now can we go make Jared let me have a turn?”

  “Gotta go referee,” Charlie said as he got up and walked off with his hand on Curtis’s skinny shoulder.

  Glory called, “I hope they’re at least wearing helmets!”

  Charlie gave a noncommittal wave without turning around.

  She looked at Eric. “I hope you really do have an emergency kit in there. You have no idea how wild things will get before the day is out. It’s sort of a ‘who has the best toys and can outdaredevil the next guy’ kind of competition.”

  Seventy feet away, a go-kart kicked up a rooster tail of dust and grass clods as it made a sharp turn.

  “Oh, I think I’m getting a pretty clear picture,” Eric said drily.

  Glory cringed when a minimotorcycle fashioned after a Harley-Davidson roared past, driven by a girl who looked to be no older than five. Eric’s gaze followed the girl, too. Glory didn’t have to ask what he was thinking; it was all over his face. Will Scott ever have fun doing regular kid things?

  She wanted to reach out and assure him that he would, that with a little speech therapy and the passage of a few more months, Scott would work his way to a normal level. But she wanted to be truthful. And the truth was, as much as she wanted to hope it would be so, she wasn’t sure that Scott would ever function at a normal level.

  Before Eric could bring back their unfinished conversation, Charlie’s oldest, Jared, came up wearing a bright orange T-shirt and khaki shorts covered with dust. “Dad said I should see if Scott wants to come and see the dirt bike.” He rushed on before Eric answered, “We won’t let him on it or anything, and I’ll watch him.”

  Glory saw the indecision in Eric’s eyes—and the overwhelming desire to have his son eager to do adventurous things like investigate another kid’s dirt bike.

  “Maybe you could take Lady, too. Scott likes to go where Lady goes,”
Glory suggested.

  “Scott, you and Lady want to walk with Jared to see a bike?” Eric asked.

  At the mention of Lady’s name, Scott looked at his dad.

  Eric got to his feet and held out a hand to his son. “Come on, I’ll go too.”

  Jared patted his thigh and called Lady.

  They started away, Scott happily following the dog, with his quilt balled in one arm. Eric stopped and said to Glory, “You can come, too.”

  She waved them on. “Go on. I’ll clean up the plates. Maybe take a little nap ’til you guys get back.”

  Eric left with a bright smile and a light step. Glory hoped these little changes in Scott truly indicated progress and that Scott’s increased awareness over the past couple of days wasn’t just an aberration.

  Glory lay back, lingering under the tree, enjoying the contentment of being in the family fold. Eric fit so well with this family, it was almost as if he belonged. And that thought made her glow from the inside.

  “You look like the cat that got the cream,” Granny said.

  Glory opened her eyes.

  “Don’t frown at me. It’s a good thing. Ain’t seen you this relaxed since you got home.”

  “Didn’t know I was frowning.”

  “You was. It’s all right to be happy, darlin’.” Granny sat on the ground next to her.

  Unwilling to delve into her deepest feelings, Glory diverted the conversation. “Have you noticed how Scott is with Lady? He just followed her off to see the dirt bike.”

  With a slow nod and a smile, Granny said, “It’s somethin’, ain’t it?”

  “I read an article in the doctor’s office the other day about how dogs are being used in therapies for all kinds of things. I always thought dogs were just used for physical handicaps. There’s a growing demand. I’m thinking that might be something for me to look into.”

  “Well, you got experience with animals. Might be a good idea.”

  “I’ll have to do a lot more research. And I’ll probably need some help.” It was true; a partner would be a valuable asset. And handling dogs wouldn’t require sharp, detailed eyesight, but patience and understanding. Granny would be well equipped for the task.

  But Granny didn’t bite at the hint.

  Glory had to move carefully; she didn’t want Granny’s cast-iron pride to cause her to dig in her heels before Glory had even begun. “This could be an incredible opportunity. But I’ll need a place with lots of space.”

  “Reckon you could set up here, if’n you wanted. Got plenty of acreage.”

  Glory sat up quickly. “Really?”

  “Don’t see why not.”

  “I’m sure the income at first will be slow. But after we’ve been set up a while, you should be—”

  Granny’s gaze sharpened, and her lips took on that firm line that signaled trouble. “I said you could set up here. I got my own work.”

  Glory knew when to back off. “All right. I’m still exploring the idea. This would be a great location.”

  Granny patted Glory’s leg. “You let me know when you decide.”

  “Sure will, Gran.” Step one, introduction to idea. Step two, figure out a way to draw Granny in without making her feel like a charity case.

  Step two was going to be the problem.

  Scott stood between Eric and Lady, looking at the dog, not the dirt bike. But at least he wasn’t crying or covering his ears to shut out the high-pitched whine of the engine as it approached.

  Jared knelt by Scott and said, pointing, “Look, here he comes!”

  The kids had worn a track with the bike. It was a big loop that circled into the woods, dipped into a couple of shallow ravines, cut around a giant stump near the edge of the yard, and bumped over a rise just high enough that the older kids could get the wheels to leave the ground.

  Curtis was the current rider, having successfully accomplished his coup with the help of his dad. When he saw Scott standing there, he pulled the bike to a stop in front of them. “You want to take Scott for a ride, Mr. Wilson?”

  Eric was impressed with the boy’s generosity. “Thanks, Curtis. I think we’ll just watch this year. Maybe when he’s older.”

  Curtis grinned and gunned the engine. The bike took off with such a jerk, Eric thought the boy was going to be bucked off. But Curtis held on and disappeared on the track into the woods.

  Jared said, “Curtis thinks he’s gonna do motocross.” He made a pffing sound. “Like that’s ever gonna happen.”

  Eric smiled at the twelve-year-old. “You never know, Jared. It could—if he wants it badly enough.” Wouldn’t it be great if someday I could help Scott work toward greater things than verbalizing when he was hungry and not having a meltdown every other day at school?

  Jared smirked. “Yeah. And I might be the next Hulk Hogan.”

  A laugh popped out of Eric’s mouth before he could stop it. Jared was the stringiest kid he’d ever seen. Short for his age, he was nothing but bone and sinew—no fat, no bulk, no muscle.

  “You haven’t hit your growth spurt yet,” Eric said encouragingly, trying to make up for his initial response. “In a couple of years, you’ll probably be bench-pressing two hundred.”

  Jared cast him a skeptical look. Then he said, “Don’t matter. I want to be a swimmer. Olympic gold.” Confidence now shone in his smile.

  “Are you on the team at sch—”

  “Eric!” Glory yelled, running their way. “Eric, we need you! There’s been an accident!”

  Eric reached to scoop Scott up.

  “Go. I got him,” Jared said.

  With one last look at his son, he ran toward Glory.

  She shouted, “One of the ATVs flipped. Connie’s eleven-year-old was on it. I’ve told them not to move him.” She fell into a run next to him.

  As Eric approached the child lying on the ground, everything else faded into an indistinct blur. He began to assess injuries before he even got down on his knees beside the boy. Large laceration on the forehead. Could be a concussion. Copious bleeding from the mouth. Angle of left shoulder indicates break or dislocation. Boy’s cries indicate severe pain. Both legs moving. Position of four-wheeler suggests it probably rolled over him. Check for spinal trauma.

  Connie and Tula were on the boy’s other side, trying calm him and keep him still.

  “What’s your name, son?” Eric asked and gave the mother a look that told her he wanted the child to answer.

  “T-t-trevor.” He was beginning to shake.

  “Okay, Trevor, we’re gonna get you to a hospital. But until then I’m going to help you.” Eric glanced over his shoulder at Glory.

  She answered his unasked question. “The ambulance is on its way. You want me to get the kit from the Explorer?”

  He nodded. Then he began to examine the child more closely. “I want you to hold as still as you can, Trevor. It’s important until we know if you’ve hurt your neck.”

  “’K-k-k-kay,” he said, without moving unnecessarily. The trust in his eyes—the same as Eric saw in most accident victims—sparked a pang of guilt in him; those injured held such faith that Eric could help them, when in reality, he didn’t have much more to work with than a pressure bandage, a neck brace, and educated determination.

  He spoke with calm assurance. “All right. You’re doing great. I know your shoulder and head hurt. Anyplace else—just tell me, don’t show me and don’t shake your head.”

  Trevor’s crying died to a whimper, and Eric could see him mentally checking all of his parts. “My mouf.”

  “I see.” Eric looked at the boy’s mouth. “Anyplace else?”

  After a short pause. “No.”

  Eric saw the amount of blood coming from Trevor’s mouth was just about to send his mother into orbit, so he gently moved the boy’s lips to ensure that the front teeth were all still in place.

  “Can you stick your tongue out at me?”

  Trevor’s gaze cut toward his mom. Then, slowly, he stuck out his tongue.
r />   “Looks like you bit it.” Then Eric looked at Connie and said quietly, “Always looks much worse than it actually is. Might not even need a stitch.”

  Glory returned with the emergency case and set it on the ground.

  “I’m going to put a collar around your neck, Trevor, just in case you hurt it. But I want you to hold still and let me do all the work. Okay?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Eric had the cervical collar in place and a pressure bandage on the forehead gash by the time the ambulance arrived. As soon as the paramedics reached the boy, he stepped back.

  Trevor’s eyes widened, and he cried, “Wait. Stay.”

  “I’m not going anyplace. I’m just letting these guys get you ready to go. I’m right here.” He glanced around the concerned faces gathered around them. He didn’t see Jared or Scott. He turned to Glory and said, “Jared is watching Scott. See if you can find them.” He couldn’t believe a kid Jared’s age would miss seeing a bloody accident.

  “Sure.” She disappeared beyond the crowd.

  Glory hurried toward where the kids had been riding the dirt bike. When she got there, the bike was on the ground and no one was around. She turned, scanning in all directions, looking for some sign of Jared’s orange shirt. She didn’t see him.

  “Jared! Scott!” She walked to the edge of the woods and listened for a reply. She doubted that Jared would take Scott into the woods, so she turned her efforts to more likely spots.

  She’d seen Charlie and Curtis up on Granny’s porch as she’d passed. She ran back to the house. “Charlie,” she called as she neared. “Where are Jared and Scott?”

  Charlie looked up from where he was holding a bag of ice on Curtis’s leg. “They were still by the dirt bike a minute ago. Curtis burned his leg on the exhaust, and we came to get ice.”

  “They’re not there now.” Panic inched up her throat.

  “They probably went to see about Trevor.”

  Even as she ran back toward the accident, she didn’t really think she’d missed seeing that orange shirt in the crowd.