High Hurdles Collection Two

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Duh, Chief, I tink dey likes us.” He elbowed the man next to him and saluted DJ and Gran. “Dey call me Bozo. Dat’s Chief, then Allen and …” He leaned closer to the fourth fireman. “What’d you say your name was? Okay. Yeah, Harvey, like da rabbit.”

  The other two firemen set their burden down where DJ could see it easily, and then all four men lined up at the foot of her bed, took off their helmets, clapped them over their hearts, and hummed “mi-mi-mi” in four-part harmony, then broke into “You Are My Sunshine.”

  “Duh, Chief, should we give her the present now?”

  “Not yet, Bozo. Can’t you remember anything?” The chief pretended to swat him with his helmet.

  “Oh. Duh.” Bozo shrugged and ducked.

  The fireman named Allen stepped to the side of the bed. “Sure am glad to see you looking so well, DJ. The last time I saw you, things were mighty different.”

  “This is Fireman Allen White. He’s the man who carried you out,” the chief added to the introductions.

  DJ fought the tears that not only threatened but trickled down her cheeks. “Th-thank you.” She sniffed, and Gran leaned over with a tissue to wipe her nose and eyes.

  “You’re most welcome, little lady. We have a couple of things for you.” White picked up a helmet that said DJ and set it on her head. “You are now an honorary member of the Morgan Hill Fire Fighters for saving all the lives of the horses with your quick thinking. You did the hard part. All we had to do was water down the barn.”

  “And save my granddaughter.” Gran wiped her own eyes. “We can never thank you enough.”

  “Those kinds of things make our jobs worthwhile, ma’am.” White, with his blond crew cut and toothpaste-ad smile in a tanned face, could have posed for a recruiting poster for firemen. He turned to his helper. “We have some other things here that just happened to show up at the firehouse. Thought you might enjoy them.” He held up a video of the 1996 Olympics equestrian events and another of the movie The Horse With the Flying Tail, then pulled out a toddler-sized white bear with fur soft as a powder puff sitting in a black rubber bucket with brushes, combs, and curries. “We thought you probably lost yours in the fire.”

  DJ nodded. “I did. Thank you.”

  He took the bear out of the bucket and placed it on the pillow in the curve of DJ’s arm. “The bear told us that you are quite an artist, so we thought maybe you could use these things, too. Not right now, of course, but soon.” The box White opened held charcoal pencils, colored pencils, pastels, acrylic paints, brushes, drawing tablets in an assortment of sizes, and several stretched canvases. “Just an encouragement, of course.”

  DJ looked at her boxing-glove hands, then up to the men.

  “Don’t worry, DJ,” White went on. “No matter what they look like now, your hands will hold a pencil again, and reins and brushes, too. This isn’t the end of the road, but a big bump you gotta climb over or detour around. When you are jumping in the Olympics, we’re going to be front and center, cheering you on like nobody’s cheered before.”

  “I know you’re going to have to work like you’ve never worked before, but the doc said you’d be all right again, and he never lies,” the chief put in.

  “Don’t even stretch duh truth like that.” Bozo elbowed the chief in the ribs. “Duh, dis guy here.”

  The chief snapped to attention. “I always tell the truth.”

  “How ’bout duh time …”

  DJ giggled through her tears. “How can I ever thank you enough?”

  “Just by keeping on keeping on. You call me when you feel down. I’ve been there, and I know how bad it hurts.”

  “You do?”

  White nodded. “Someday I’ll come tell you my story. I’ve heard that sharing our stories is one way God brings good out of the hard things that happen to us. Like if I tell you my story and cheer you on, then when you are all better, you get to do the same for others. God is the original recycler. Nothing ever goes to waste.”

  Gran mopped DJ’s eyes again.

  “So you watch your movies and dream of flying over those jumps, okay?”

  DJ nodded and sniffed. She raised her arms wide, and Allen White led the other firemen as they each gave her a hug.

  “My name’s really not Harvey, it’s Kevin,” the quiet fireman said. “And I know you can beat this.”

  “You go, girl. You’re gonna do it,” the chief whispered in her ear.

  “I’ll try.”

  “Nope, trying’s not good enough. You just do it.”

  “Thanks. And thank you for all of this.” DJ looked up to see three nurses, including Karen, standing in the doorway, drying their eyes.

  “Hey, Fireman White, are you married?” DJ couldn’t believe she said that.

  “No, why?”

  “ ’Cause Karen isn’t, either, and she’s really a super person.”

  Karen rolled her eyes and shot DJ an I’m-going-to-get-you-for-that look.

  White strolled over to Karen. “What the princess wishes is my command. Will you go out with me, fair lady, or at least let me call you?”

  Karen shook her head. “I …”

  “You have to. It’s DJ’s wish.”

  “All right. You can call.” Karen raised her hands in surrender.

  “Good.” DJ nodded her satisfaction. Allan White was one good-looking dude, and Karen looked good in a red face.

  A beeper went off, and the chief unsnapped it from his lapel. He read the display, then said, “Sorry, DJ, but we gotta go.”

  “Thank you again for all of this, but mostly for coming.” DJ sniffed again. “I’m not usually such a crybaby.”

  “That’s okay. If you’re a sissy, then there are five of us. See you.” White winked and went out the door.

  As they trooped down the hall, DJ heard, “Duh, Chief, can I push the elevator button?”

  Gran and DJ swapped rolled-eye looks and shook their heads. “That Bozo.”

  “What a couple of clowns and a fine bunch of men. I wish Joe had been here. He’d have loved it.” Joe had served on the San Francisco police force until his retirement. Major had been his horse for his last years on the mounted patrol and retired with Joe, who sold him to DJ.

  “They sure were funny.” DJ chuckled again and gave the bear a squeeze. “Feel how soft he is.” But while she squeezed the bear with a smile on her face, she studied the drawing supplies. Would she ever be able to hold a pencil again, or the reins of her horse? She tried flexing her fingers, but the pain made her catch her breath.

  “Okay, Darla Jean Randall, we have to talk.” Karen tried to keep a fierce look on her face but failed by the time she reached the bed.

  “My name is DJ.”

  “Nope, not now. Think of me as your mother. Darla Jean, what got into you?”

  “He’s cute, huh?”

  “Better than cute, but how could you do that?”

  DJ shrugged. “I don’t know. It just slipped out.”

  Karen dug in her pocket and pulled out a business card. “Look at this. He gave me his card.”

  “Well, if he’s as nice as he is good-looking, you two will make quite a pair.” Gran lifted the helmet from the pillow behind DJ where she had set it earlier. “Honorary member, eh? What an honor.”

  “Wait until the Double Bs see this.” At Karen’s questioning look, DJ added, “The Double Bs are my twin brothers, Bobby and Billy. The only time you can tell them apart is when one is wearing a bandage or a bruise.”

  The bedside phone rang and Gran answered it. “It’s Amy.”

  “I’ll let you talk, since I’m sure my other patients are feeling neglected.” Karen headed for the door.

  “Bet the others don’t introduce you to good-looking firemen.” DJ giggled at the look Karen sent her, then nudged the phone into the hollow of her shoulder and ear.

  “What was that all about?” Amy asked. When DJ was done telling the story, both girls were laughing. Gran periodically rolled her eyes and shook her he
ad.

  “Totally unbelievable.”

  “I know. How are things at the barns and school?”

  “We miss you something awful.”

  When Gran hung the phone up sometime later, DJ closed her eyes. All kinds of good things were going on without her while she lay in a hospital bed, not even able to go to the bathroom by herself. She hugged the bear and let his soft fur soak up the tears. What a crybaby you are. Come on, you’re tougher than this, the little voice in her head scolded.

  “I hear you had company today,” Dr. Niguri said when he came in a while later. The clatter of dinner trays and the smell of something barbecued preceded him.

  “She sure did.” Gran pointed to the helmet.

  “Firemen, eh? Looks like they brought the store.”

  DJ nodded. “And the bear.”

  Dr. Niguri studied the clipboard that held DJ’s chart. “Looks to me like you’re doing well. Any way I can help?”

  “Let me go home?”

  “Sorry. As much as I’d love to do that, you’ll be here awhile.”

  “Awhile?” Please, please give me a time when I can go home.

  “ ’Fraid so, DJ. We need to do some skin grafts and see how they take. Burns take a lot of care, and we want to make sure you can do everything again that you could before. So bear with us, okay?”

  DJ nodded; the lump in her throat made answering too difficult. Days, weeks, what?

  Chapter • 3

  “I brought your school books,” Mom said a week later.

  DJ groaned and shook her head, trying to match her mother’s smile but failing miserably. “How can I do schoolwork when I sleep all the time from the pain medication?” Lindy had been there only a few minutes and already DJ wished for Gran. Schoolwork was the last thing on DJ’s mind.

  Lindy Crowder eased her pregnant bulk down into the chair and sighed. “I know it will be hard, but maybe if you have something to concentrate on, the time will go faster. Besides, you’ve already missed two weeks of school—we can’t let you get any further behind.”

  “I guess.” DJ blinked and blinked again. If she could rub her eyes, that might get some clearness back into them. “At least I don’t have algebra this year.”

  “You could take geometry, you know.” The arch of her mother’s eyebrows said she was teasing. DJ hated math like cats hated baths.

  “You look so nice,” DJ said. As usual, her mother’s hair swung back into smooth sheets at the turn of her head. And though she wore a maternity sundress, she wore it with her normal flair, bright red-and-yellow dangly earrings, bracelets, and low espadrille shoes in the same yellow tone. Her face had rounded out a bit, but she had been careful about her weight and looked like she was carrying only a soccer ball under her dress.

  “Mom, next to you, I feel creepy-cruddy.”

  “Darla Jean, what a thing to say. I’m fat as a hippo.”

  “Yeah, right.” DJ didn’t know much about pregnant women, but her mother surely didn’t resemble any hippo she’d ever seen.

  “Your hair is coming back. Every time I see you it’s longer.”

  “You mean now I look like I have a crew cut instead of a shave?”

  “Something like that—almost. I could bring you a perky bow and tape it to the top, like I did when you were a baby.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. At least it doesn’t itch so much.” DJ eyed the stack of books on her bedside table. “How am I supposed to read those when I can’t even turn the pages?”

  “Joni Eareckson Tada turns her pages with a pencil or something held in her mouth. We can prop the book on this.” Lindy swung the bed table over and opened the tray, setting the book in place. The book snapped closed. “Hmm. There’s gotta be a way around this.” She handed DJ an unsharpened pencil. “You use the eraser end to turn the pages.”

  “Have you tried this?”

  “No, but maybe I should have. Guess I’ll ask the nurses if they have any suggestions. In the meantime, when any of us come to visit, we can take turns reading to you. See, here in the notebook is your list of assignments according to class.”

  “How are the Bs?”

  “Good. They think first grade is a lark. Not being able to tell them apart is driving their teacher nuts. You want a drink?”

  “Yes, please, and a Popsicle.”

  Lindy pushed herself up by using the arms of the chair. “Whew! How come everything seems so far down?” She started for the door, then turned. “But after that we do history.”

  “How about lit instead?”

  “Whatever.”

  But before she returned, DJ had dozed off again. She woke to see her mother tapping away at her laptop computer, the Popsicle melted in a dish on the bed table.

  “Sorry.” Her croak sounded more like a toad than a girl.

  “No problem. Mother warned me how often this happens. At least when you’re sleeping you don’t hurt, and that’s most important.” Lindy held the glass of ice water for DJ to drink from the straw and motioned to the yellow Popsicle liquid. “I could spoon that for you.”

  “ ’Kay. But I gotta go to the bathroom first. Call the nurse.” She nodded to the push buttons on the bed rail.

  “Can’t I help you?”

  “I guess, but …”

  “Darla Jean, I’m your mother. And just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I’m a weakling, you know.”

  “Sorry.” DJ did her sideways-moving crab imitation to the edge of the bed and swung her feet over the side while at the same time rolling up into a full sitting position.

  “Hey, you’re getting pretty good at that. Now, what do you want me to do?”

  “Hang on to me so that I don’t slip when I stand, and then we walk together. I don’t get dizzy so often now, but sometimes the room turns into a carousel.” By the time they got DJ back into bed, both of them were giggling over Lindy’s belly being in the way.

  “Hey, did we tell you that we think this muffin in here is probably a girl?” Lindy patted her bulge with one hand and held DJ’s water glass with the other. “She finally turned right so the sonogram could tell. How about helping me with names for your new sister?”

  “Wow. That is totally awesome.”

  “I even have pictures.” Lindy whipped out a folder with a shadowy form in a black-and-white picture. “See, there’s her head, hands, and feet. Isn’t she beautiful?”

  DJ raised what eyebrows she had grown back. “Beautiful? Mo-ther!”

  “Well, I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But I got to watch her moving around, and, DJ, she even put her thumb in her mouth. Can you believe that?” Lindy’s eyes glimmered through the sheen of tears. “I’ve been thinking of calling her Grace because she is such a wonderful gift.”

  “Grace.” DJ tried it out. “Kinda old-fashioned, isn’t it?”

  “I know. Maybe that could be her middle name. So help me think of something. Robert wants to call her Amelia, after his mother.”

  “Then she’d be Amelia Grace.” DJ shook her head. “Not quite right.” But much as she tried, no good ideas came. In fact, one of the scary things was that her mind didn’t seem to be working. All DJ wanted to do was sleep.

  “A sister. I’m going to have a baby sister.” Seeing the picture and thinking about names made this baby, which had seemed so far off, a pretty-soon reality.

  “Something to think about, isn’t it?” Lindy flinched. “Oof, she’s going to be a soccer star for sure.” She laid her hand on the side where even DJ could see the baby kick, moving her mother’s sundress.

  “Wow! Doesn’t that hurt?”

  “Let me tell you.” Lindy sucked in a deep breath and let it all out. “And to think I have more than three months to go.”

  DJ shifted in the bed, rolling over so she could see her mother better. “Have the Bs been riding?”

  “Every day. They’re working on a surprise for you, but I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

  “Mother, that’s mean.”

&n
bsp; “Just another good reason to get you out of here as soon as possible. We all miss you so terribly. Home just isn’t the same without you there.” Lindy blinked several times. “I find Queenie up in your room every once in a while, lying there by your bed waiting for you.”

  DJ could feel tears at the back of her eyes. They’d found Queenie, a black-and-white mixed breed, at the Humane Society, and she had taken over as if she’d lived with them all her life.

  “So no more procrastinating. You want U.S. history or lit? According to the schedule your teacher sent, you have a book report due in two weeks. I asked her if you could use an audio tape instead, and she agreed, so you need to choose a book. Here’s the list of audios available. It has to be one of the classics.”

  “Yuck.”

  “I thought you might like Tom Sawyer. I remember loving that book when I was your age.”

  DJ shrugged. “I guess. Couldn’t I watch the movie instead?”

  “Book report equals reading … or at least listening. If that’s the one you’d like, I’ll bring it and a tape recorder with me day after tomorrow.”

  DJ thought a moment. How will I keep track of the story? I can hardly keep track of my own name. “How will I turn the thing on and off?”

  “Your handy-dandy mouth tool.” Lindy waved the pencil, then looked at it. “Hmm, needs to be something longer than that. I’ll let Robert devise us something.” She laid a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “We can make it work, Deej. I know it’s really hard for you, but we’ll all help. Bobby said he had to learn to read real quick so he could help you with your homework. And Billy said he’d learn faster. You won’t be here in the hospital forever.”

  “Even though it seems like it, huh?”

  “Even though.”

  The evening nurse squeaked her way into the room and up to the side of the bed. “How about taking a walk down the hall, kiddo? Stretch those legs a bit.”

  DJ glanced up at the IV bag. “With that?”

  “Sure. I’ll push it for you.”

  “Really?” DJ twitched her nose. The nose prongs for oxygen had begun to seem like part of her body. The doctor said she needed the oxygen because her lungs were still healing from all the smoke damage.