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A Thousand Tomorrows & Just Beyond The Clouds Omnibus

Page 30

by Karen Kingsbury


  Daisy took her calculator from her pocket and squinted at the sign above the bananas. “Forty cents a pound.” Her mouth hung open while she punched in the numbers, but after a short time, she laughed aloud. “One twenty. One dollar and twenty cents. That’s how much so far.”

  “Excellent.” Elle gave her sister a look that expressed how proud she was. “You’re doing so well, Daisy.”

  A shadow fell over her expression. “But Cody Gunner doesn’t like us.”

  “He will.” Elle allowed Daisy to take the lead as they moved to a display of apples. “One day he will.”

  And as they finished shopping, as she allowed her sister time to gain the experience of finding eggs and peanut butter and mayonnaise and string cheese along with a cart full of other items all for under a hundred dollars, she could only pray quietly that what she’d told Daisy was right.

  That someday—by some sort of miracle—Cody Gunner would like not just the students at the ILC. But he would also like her work well enough to believe in Carl Joseph’s place there.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carl Joseph was at his parents’ computer trying to write a letter. But he was having trouble. Something maybe was wrong with Brother. He had heard the yelling and shouting that day when he was pulling weeds. And now it was Wednesday and Brother was still coming every day to the center.

  Daisy said he was coming because he didn’t like them. “Your brother doesn’t want you at the center,” she had told him earlier that day.

  And maybe Daisy was right. But maybe not. Because Brother had a smile and a happy voice when he was at the center. He sat in his chair and he watched and he thought a lot. And sometimes Brother would get up and find him next to Daisy and see what they were doing. Three times he said, “Good job, Buddy.”

  Also he thought Teacher was pretty. Carl Joseph knew because Brother’s eyes were the same at Elle as they were at Ali the first time. When Brother and Ali were at the rodeo together. Because Carl Joseph would come with his mother and sometimes with his dad, and he could see Brother’s eyes then. His eyes for Ali. And that was the same as his eyes for Teacher.

  But even all that didn’t mean he was happy.

  Carl Joseph looked out the window and bit his lip. Plus the letter was hard ’cause he was a little scared ’cause of the bus routes. And that kept filling his head. He knew Number Eight and Number Three. But Number Eleven was scary because there were two changes. And two changes had to happen. Otherwise no Goal Day. Yes, bus routes were scary.

  He turned his eyes to the computer screen. There was nothing on it so far. He adjusted his glasses and looked at the keyboard. He could at least type her name. He found the D and tapped it. Then he tapped out the rest of her name. A-I-S-Y.

  He lifted his eyes and made a happy laugh. Daisy. That’s what it spelled: Daisy. He wanted to write Daisy a letter because of Disneyland. Teacher said that when you entertain you have to invite someone. And he wanted to entertain Daisy at Disneyland. So maybe he had to write her a letter and invite her first.

  He heard a noise and he saw Brother’s truck pull into the driveway. That made him feel nervous, because he wasn’t sure about Brother anymore. He didn’t want to make him mad. ’Cause maybe Brother was mad that he and Daisy were friends and maybe he wanted Carl Joseph to leave the center.

  He watched Brother park his truck and head up the walk. “Uh-oh.” He grabbed the mouse. But not Mickey Mouse, ’cause that was different. Then he moved the arrow fast, faster. Fast as he could until he found the X marks the spot. Then he clicked and the letter was gone. ’Cause he could write a letter to Daisy later.

  But he didn’t want Brother to be mad. Not ever.

  Because Daisy was his number two best friend, but Brother… Brother was his best friend of all. So he could hide letters to Daisy. Because he didn’t want Brother to see what he was doing and be mad. He stood and slammed the chair back against the desk. His heart pounded like a drum. He moved quickly away from the computer and over to the door. That way Brother wouldn’t see what he was doing. Then he ran and held open his arms. “Brother!”

  “Hey, Buddy.” He came up and they hugged. “Whatcha been doing?”

  “Nothing.” Carl Joseph answered fast. “Not writing a letter to Daisy. Not me.”

  Brother stopped and crossed his arms. He looked around at the computer and then back again. “Are you lying to me, Buddy?”

  “Yes.” Again his answer was fast. Because Mom said you don’t love someone you lie to. And you don’t lie to someone you love. He nodded, very serious. “Yes, Brother. I’m lying.”

  “How come?” Brother put his arm on his shoulder and looked at him. Straight at him.

  Carl Joseph felt his heart slow down a little. Brother still loved him. ’Cause he put his hand on Carl Joseph’s shoulder and that meant, “I love you, Buddy.” Carl Joseph put his hands on his knees and breathed out like when he raced Gus at break time. When he looked up he licked his lips first. “You don’t like Daisy.”

  “What?” Brother looked hurt. So maybe he did like Daisy. “Buddy, that’s not true. I like her a lot. She has cute blonde hair.”

  “ ’Cause she has cute blonde hair and she likes Minnie Mouse.” Carl Joseph looked down at the floor. His heart was pounding again. “And Brother likes Minnie Mouse.”

  “That’s right.” He sounded tired. He led Carl Joseph back into the office and pulled out the computer chair. “Sit here.”

  Carl Joseph did as he was told. He sat down and looked at the blank screen.

  “You were writing a letter to Daisy, right?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t look around. He didn’t want to see if Brother was mad or not. “A letter to Daisy.”

  “Okay, Buddy. Then go ahead.” He reached down and hugged Carl Joseph from the back. “Go ahead and write to Daisy. I like when you write letters.”

  “ ’Cause”—Carl Joseph turned around and looked at Brother’s eyes—“I was inviting her to Disneyland with me.” He looked at the screen again. “Teacher says when you entertain, you need to invite someone.”

  Brother sounded a little more tired. “Fine. Go on and write your invitation. I’m not mad at you, Buddy.” He came around and sat on the edge of the desk. Then he looked straight at Carl Joseph. “I love you, Buddy. Okay? Remember that?”

  Carl Joseph thought for a moment. “Yes, I remember.”

  “Good. I’m not mad and I like your friends.”

  “ ’Cause after Daisy I can write a letter to you.” He smiled at Brother. “And maybe you think Teacher is pretty.”

  Brother opened his mouth but no words came out. Carl Joseph closed his eyes because this might be where Brother got mad. But instead, laughter came from him. Lots of laughter. Carl Joseph opened his eyes. “Brother?”

  “How do you know I think your teacher’s pretty?” He leaned in and messed Carl Joseph’s hair.

  “ ’Cause your eyes looked at her like…” Carl Joseph stopped. Every time he talked about Ali the horse rider, Brother got sad. Brother was laughing now, so he didn’t want to make him sad. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “ ’Cause your eyes said she was pretty.”

  “Well.” Brother stood and took a step away. “You’re right about your teacher. She is pretty. But that doesn’t mean we agree about everything. Okay?”

  “Okay, Brother. Except Disneyland. We can agree about Disneyland.”

  Brother was still smiling, and his face said he thought Carl Joseph was silly. “We can definitely agree about that.”

  “You and me and Daisy.”

  “Yes, Buddy.” Brother waved at him. “You and me and Daisy.”

  When Brother left, Carl Joseph remembered everything he wanted to say to Daisy. Because he wasn’t afraid anymore about Brother. Brother liked Daisy and that meant no more heart like a drum. But before he started back on the letter, he closed his eyes and folded his hands and talked to God out loud.

  “One day, God, please let Brother and me and Daisy and Teacher g
o to Disneyland together. ’Cause the Magic Kingdom has shortcake and Mickey Mouse and Minnie. And thanks that Brother isn’t mad. So maybe we can all go there. Amen.”

  When he opened his eyes, he felt ready for the letter. ’Cause Teacher said it felt good to use life skills. And praying to God was one of the best life skills of all. You could say what you want to God anytime, anywhere. Teacher said that. And talking to God meant God was with you. And sometimes being a grownup was scary. Except with God it was never scary at all.

  Even when you had to know all the bus routes in the whole wide world.

  Chapter Twelve

  Elle couldn’t wait to get Snoopy out on a leash. All afternoon she’d been looking forward to taking her dog to the park up the street. It wasn’t a big park like Antlers. Just a patch of grass in the middle of twenty rows of modest homes. A place where mothers could take their preschoolers and find a swing set and a slide and a set of monkey bars. The park was one of Elle’s favorite places after a long day.

  The sunshine from earlier had disappeared behind a layer of clouds, and she was about to find something warmer to wear when her mother approached her.

  “You look tired.”

  Elle chided herself for not hiding her feelings better. “I’m fine. Just a long day.”

  “That’s nearly a whole week of long days.” She frowned. “What’s happening at the center?” Her mother touched her arm, her eyes curious. “You’ve been more tired, quieter.”

  Daisy overheard the question. She stepped up and clucked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “CJ’s brother. He happened this week.”

  Their mother wrinkled her nose. “The world-famous bull rider?”

  Elle rolled her eyes. “Please, Mother. Don’t feed the fantasy.” She headed for the coat closet and found an old sweater. “I’m taking Snoopy for a walk.”

  Her mother stayed on her heels. “So he’s not a bull rider?”

  “I don’t know what he is.” Elle looked past her mom. Daisy hadn’t followed them. “The guy shows up Monday morning unannounced, and now he’s a regular fixture at the center.”

  “Oh.” Her mom stepped out of her way as she slipped on the sweater and moved back toward the kitchen. “Is he curious?”

  “No.” She stopped and looked at her mom. After being calm and gentle with her students all day, she didn’t have the patience for this. Even so, her mother didn’t know what was happening with Cody Gunner, and Elle couldn’t blame her for being curious. She exhaled and tried to explain the situation better. “He wants Carl Joseph removed from the center. That’s his bottom line.” She leaned against the nearest wall. Everything about Carl Joseph’s brother made her feel worn-out.

  “Why on earth?” Her mother’s expression told the story. She couldn’t fathom someone opposed to independence for people with Down Syndrome. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. He thinks that Carl Joseph is safer and happier at home, that because of his epilepsy and heart disease, we’re filling his head with impossible ideas. That sort of thing.”

  “Oh.” She wrinkled her brow. “Of course it’s up to Carl Joseph’s parents.”

  “Since his diagnosis, they’re unsure, too. Cody’s opinion could be enough to sway them.”

  “I see.” Her mother looked into the next room, where Daisy was sitting in a weathered old recliner. She was reading Heidi for the third time. “Regardless of his health, I can’t imagine standing in the way of someone with Down Syndrome. Not when there are so many options for them now.”

  “I know. Me, either.” Elle leaned in and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Let’s talk about it later. I need to get out.”

  “Okay.” Her mom patted her arm. “I’m sorry, Elle. You don’t deserve that.”

  “I just wish he didn’t make me doubt myself.” She gave her mother a tired smile. “It feels like I’m spending my time defending myself, instead of getting my students closer to their goal.”

  “It’ll pass.”

  “I know.” She pulled Snoopy’s leash from a drawer in the kitchen and headed for the door. Their small house was one of hundreds in this part of Colorado Springs. It was the best they could do with the money from the sale of the old house, and it was cozy. More than they needed. She smiled at her mother. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  The moment she stepped outside, she felt her mind begin to clear. She walked more slowly than usual and studied the new leaves on the branches of the trees that lined the street. Colorado Springs didn’t have many deciduous trees, but this neighborhood’s developers had seen to it that there were at least a few mixed in between the common evergreens.

  She took in a long breath and walked a little taller. Cody Gunner had been driving her crazy this past week, between his wary glances and his subtle smiles. He wasn’t critical or mean, exactly. But his scrutiny exhausted her. Once in a while, for a brief moment at a time over the past several days, she would catch herself watching him, admiring his strong jaw and intense eyes, or the way his broad back tapered down to his waist.

  Each time she would turn away, angry with herself. He was married. That she would find him attractive was appalling.

  No, she definitely couldn’t be attracted to Carl Joseph’s brother. But now that she was outside, now that the cool evening breeze played against her face and the smell of jasmine filled her senses, she had to be honest. Her attraction to him was part of the problem.

  Not only did she want him to finish the week convinced that her work at the ILC was necessary and important, and that it was the right place for Carl Joseph, but she wanted him to go back to whatever he used to do with his days. Go back home to his wife and leave the educating to her. She spotted another dog owner across the street. They nodded to each other and Snoopy looked up and whined.

  “I know… you want to play.” She stopped and patted the old beagle’s head. “Too bad, Snoopy. We have ground to cover.”

  At the end of the street, Elle turned right. The park was just three blocks up on the left. It was impossible to think about Cody Gunner and not let her mind wander back to where the damage had been done. If things hadn’t fallen apart, she would be into her fourth year of marriage, maybe talking about having children or buying a first home.

  She narrowed her eyes and tried to fight the memories. But then, in a rush, they came at her with a gale force and she could do nothing to hold them off. It wasn’t as if she thought about the past every day. For the most part she could live without thinking about it. But once in a while it helped to go back. The memories reminded her of why she was the way she was, why she had no intention of trusting love again unless God Himself brought the right person into her life.

  Anyway, Elle wasn’t waiting around. It was better to keep existing, keep following her passion for helping her students, keep playing Scrabble with her mother. That way no one could ever hurt her the way she’d been hurt that terrible spring.

  She looked ahead as she walked, but she no longer saw the cars passing by or the budding trees or even the park. She was seeing all the way back to the beginning.

  His name was Trace Canton, and he was the principal at Pinewood Elementary where Elle received her first teaching job. She was just out of college at Colorado University and she’d taken an apartment not far from campus. She applied to four schools—all in separate districts—and Pinewood was the first to offer her a job.

  The ironic thing was she didn’t meet Trace until after she was hired. He was on vacation during the hiring process, so the assistant principal and the district superintendent had made the decision without him.

  That fall she was hanging posters in her classroom when she felt someone watching her. She turned and jumped. “Oh, sorry.” There was a man standing in the doorway, and not just any man. He wore designer slacks and a button-down silk shirt. He wasn’t built like the guys she’d dated in college. He had the slender frame of a model—like someone who had stepped out of the pages of GQ magazine. Elle set the poster down on the desk and cleared
her throat. “I didn’t know you were there.”

  “Don’t mind me.” Trace smiled at her, and that simple smile cut straight to her heart. “I wanted to get a look at your classroom, that’s all.”

  Elle figured the guy was the father of one of her students. “Did someone in the office tell you about Back-to-School Night this Friday?” She glanced at his hand, his ring finger. It was bare.

  He chuckled and took a few steps into her classroom. “I’ll be there.”

  She was flustered by his confidence. He acted as if he owned the place, and suddenly she wondered. Should she be nervous? Was he some psycho who had stumbled into her classroom off the street? She took a step back. “Excuse me, I didn’t get your name.”

  “Trace.” He stopped a few feet from her and grinned. “Most everyone around here knows me as Mr. Canton.”

  Elle was mortified. She could’ve slithered under the carpet and wormed her way to the parking lot. How could she have missed that this was the principal? She felt her cheeks grow hot. “I didn’t… I had no idea that… I guess I haven’t…” She sat on the edge of her desk and made an exasperated sound. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged and gave him a crooked grin. “I didn’t know you were back.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He pressed his shoulder into the wall and studied her. “Everyone in the office tells me you’re beyond dedicated.” He surveyed the room. “I wanted to see for myself.”

  It took that long for Elle to catch her breath. “Well”—she waved her hand at the walls, at the work she’d already done—“what do you think?”

  “I think the staff is right.” He cocked his head and held her eyes. “Welcome to Pinewood, Ms. Dalton. I’m sure you’ll fit in very nicely.” He nodded at her and turned to leave. He stopped at the door and looked at her again. “Oh, and I’ll make a point of stopping in on Back-to-School Night.” He grinned, and then he was gone.

  That visit was the first of many.

  It was an unspoken rule that there would be no fraternizing between staff members. Two of the teachers were married to each other, but that was the exception, not the rule. Still, Elle felt a connection between herself and the principal every time they were together. A month into the school year, she found the courage to mention him to one of the old-timers, a teacher who had been there since before Trace Canton arrived at Pinewood.

 

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