School taught Carl Joseph very little, as it turned out. He learned to color and stack blocks and how to share a puzzle during carpet time. But after a few years it became clear to Mary that special education—at least at their small-town school—was little more than glorified babysitting. She pulled Carl Joseph out after fifth grade.
When Mike’s child support wasn’t enough to pay the bills, Mary took a night job. And throughout those years she comforted herself with the truth that was a balm to her hurting heart: Carl Joseph would always be hers. That was the balm. Never once during Carl Joseph’s childhood or teenage years had she ever considered that he might want to move out on his own one day.
She slowed her pace. Independent living was Mike’s idea, of course. Cody was right about that part. But not for the reasons Cody guessed. Mike was not embarrassed by Carl Joseph, nor did he want their youngest son to achieve great things to make the two of them feel better about having a handicapped son.
After Mike returned to their lives, it took only a few weeks before he came to her on the front porch one day. His eyes were red, his cheeks tearstained. “Mary, I’m sorry.”
She looked long and deep into his eyes. “About what?”
“About all I’ve missed.” He coughed, struggling with his words. “I’m so sorry. I never . . . never should’ve left.”
“Ah, baby.” She put her arms around his waist. “You’ve already told me that a dozen times. It’s okay. We’re together now; everything’s different.”
“But . . .” He fought back another bit of sorrow. “I haven’t told you how sorry I am about Carl Joseph. I ran from him, the affairs, the other women. I was always running away from Carl Joseph. When . . . when I should’ve run to him. I should’ve embraced him.” He pressed his fist to his chest. “That kid has worked his way in here so fast it makes my head spin. He’s wonderful, Mary. I love everything about him.”
Mary blinked and remembered how it felt to hear those words, how it made her want to shout to the heavens that finally Mike understood how wonderful it was to have Carl Joseph as a son. Mike had missed so much, all the years when Carl Joseph’s wonderment at the world around him was enough to make Mary see all of life through new eyes.
She reached the top of the hill and looked out over the fields. Ever since that day, Mike had grown more and more attached to Carl Joseph. But Mike was also busy, making a name for himself in the restaurant business. When Cody was home, Carl Joseph never left his side. And Mike was usually at the restaurant. It would’ve been easy for Cody to miss how close Carl Joseph and Mike had become.
But that didn’t change the facts.
The idea of independent living came up quite innocently. One day after work, Mike went to the doctor for a checkup. When he came home that evening, his eyes were shining. He handed her a brochure. “Read this.” His voice held a sense of awe. “I had no idea.”
Mary looked at the flyer. Written across the top it said, Independent Living Center—give your disabled child every chance for a bright future.
She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. Never in a million years would she forget how she felt in that moment. Her heart skipped a beat, and she almost handed the pamphlet back to Mike, almost told him to rip it in half and never mention the words “independent living” again.
She’d heard of such a thing more than once in the years leading up to that moment. She’d heard about it, and every time she’d felt sick to her stomach. Carl Joseph, independent? The boy would be lost in the world without her, without the safety and security of the home she’d made for him.
But with Mike standing there, she had no choice. She read about the full-time program offered at the center, and the testimonials from family members of people with Down Syndrome. How they were grateful to the center for giving their son or daughter a chance at the sort of life everyone deserved.
Mary wanted to scream at those parents. At first, she’d felt the same way Cody felt, that a child with Down Syndrome couldn’t possibly understand what he did or didn’t deserve. The entire idea felt like something created by able-bodied people and from the viewpoint of able-bodied people. A program that tried to force people with Down Syndrome into a mold that seemed normal and acceptable to people without disabilities.
But it was the photo on the inside page that caught her attention. There, smiling bigger than life, was a young man with Down Syndrome. Beneath his picture it said, “I’m a man now, not a little kid. This is my life. All my dreams are coming true—Gus, Age 22.”
Mary stared at that photograph, and everything she’d believed about her life with Carl Joseph began to crumble before her eyes. Was this the life Carl Joseph deserved, the one she’d unwittingly denied him?
Mary stared at the brochure for a long time. Then she handed it back to Mike and in a voice pinched with emotion, she said, “Let’s talk to Carl Joseph.”
Mike had done the talking when they brought the topic up to Carl Joseph later that night. Mike explained that maybe it was time for Carl Joseph to attend adult school, time to learn how to handle money and take the bus places. Maybe even time to get a job.
Carl Joseph took a minute or so to absorb what was being said. But as it all started to click, he sat up and looked from Mike to Mary. “You mean . . . I get to be a man like Daddy?”
What was left of Mary’s doubts fell away in that instant. She crossed the room and knelt in front of Carl Joseph. Then she put her arms around him and hugged him. Independent living was the most terrifying thing she could imagine. But if it made Carl Joseph feel like a man, how could she possibly deny him the chance?
They enrolled him at the center the next morning.
Mary smiled at the memory. Gus was one of Carl Joseph’s friends now, someone who was also working very hard toward his Goal Day.
She reached the bottom of the hill and turned left into their driveway. There, standing on the front porch, was Carl Joseph, his hand shading his eyes. “Mom?” he shouted.
She was too far away to yell back, but she waved at him, big so he could see. With that he hopped down from the porch and ran to her. Mary stopped and admired him. He did not run with the grace of an able-bodied person, but he ran with gusto and determination, huffing and puffing as he came. When he reached her, he stopped and fell into place beside her. “Hi, Mom.” He gave her a big, open-mouthed smile.
“Hi, Carl Joseph.” Mary swallowed her sadness. Never mind Cody’s anger. What they were doing was right—as long as they could feel safe about Carl Joseph’s epilepsy treatment. The classes were helping Carl Joseph feel good about himself and good about life. “Did you finish weeding?”
“Yes.” He spread his arms out wide. “I did the whole thing. All of it.”
“Good.” She nodded. “You’re a hard worker, Carl Joseph.”
“I am.” He stuck out his chest. “Teacher says I can have a real job by Christmastime.”
“Really?” A chill ran down her arms. “By Christmastime?”
“Yes.” He held up one hand and made an exaggerated show of counting, his brow knit in concentration. “Seven months, Mom. It’ll happen in seven months.” He laughed out loud, the excited laugh of a child. “Then I’ll be almost ready for Goal Day.”
She hid her fears. “That’ll be exciting.”
He moved closer and took hold of her hand. “It’s okay if I hold your hand still, right, Mom? Even if I’m a man?”
“Yes.” She felt her heart melt. “Of course. It’ll always be okay.”
“Good.” They walked for a few seconds in silence. Then Carl Joseph turned to her. “I’m not sure about Cody.”
Mary smiled. “Me, either.”
“ ’Cause you wanna know why?” Carl Joseph’s smile faded. Concern filled the lines in his forehead.
“Why?”
“ ’Cause he was mad at Teacher today.” He shifted his jaw to one side and looked away. “He was mad at my friends, too.”
“Mad at them?” As difficult as the idea of
Carl Joseph’s independent living was for Cody, Mary couldn’t picture him being rude to his brother’s friends.
“He came into Subway and said I had to go. He said it was crazy.”
“What was crazy?”
“Something Daisy said.” Carl Joseph wrinkled his brow a little more. “He said it was crazy.”
“Oh.” Mary wasn’t sure she understood, but that wasn’t the point. Carl Joseph had always been perceptive about people’s feelings, and this was no different. If Cody was upset, Carl Joseph was bound to pick up on it and feel confused. “Well, honey, I don’t think he thought you or Daisy were crazy.”
“Maybe the field trip.”
“Maybe.”
“ ’Cause know what I think?” They were almost to the house. Carl Joseph peered at the porch as if he was looking for Cody.
“What?”
“I think Cody’s heart needs fixing again.” Carl Joseph stopped and turned to her. His eyes were very serious. “The way it did before he met Ali, the horse rider.”
“Yes, maybe that’s it.” Mary felt a familiar sadness. Ali had been so good for Cody. She had taught him to love when it didn’t seem—outside his feelings for his brother—that he’d ever learn. And now, the best thing for him would be to meet another girl, to find those feelings once more. But it would be easier for Carl Joseph to earn his independence than for Cody to fall in love again. She took Carl Joseph’s other hand. “How can we help fix Cody’s heart?”
“We can pray.” Carl Joseph gave a series of small nods. “We can close our eyes and pray to Jesus.”
Though once in a while Mary would pray in the quiet of her heart, prayer wasn’t mentioned around the Gunner household with any consistency. She smiled at her youngest son. “Okay, honey. You go ahead and pray.”
“Close your eyes.” Carl Joseph waited until she’d closed them. “Okay. Dear God, here I am. Carl Joseph Gunner. This time I have a prayer for Brother. His name is Cody. Please help him . . .” He hesitated, as if he were trying to remember what help Cody needed. When he spoke again, his words were rushed and so thick it was hard to understand him. “Oh, yes! Please help him have a fixed heart. So he isn’t mad at me and my friends, and so he doesn’t say it’s crazy. Amen.”
He squeezed Mary’s hands and she opened her eyes. “That was wonderful, Carl Joseph.” Mary pulled him close and hugged him. “How did you learn to pray like that?”
They began walking toward the house again. Carl Joseph shrugged. “It’s a life skill. Teacher says we can’t be independent if we don’t know how to talk to God.”
“Of course.” Mary could barely draw a breath. Carl Joseph went into the house, but she stayed outside on the porch. Prayer, a life skill? She sat on the glider a few feet from the door and stared at the distant mountains. Her fears about Carl Joseph’s independent living had always seemed to be about him. She was afraid he wouldn’t survive without her. But maybe she wasn’t really worried about how Carl Joseph would do without her.
She was worried about how she would do without Carl Joseph.
Which was exactly how Cody was feeling. Now it would be up to her oldest son to see that, too. Because not until Cody understood his own fears would he stop fighting the idea of Carl Joseph’s independence and do the one thing Carl Joseph wanted his brother to do.
Let him go.
Chapter Nine
All weekend, Cody ran from his anger. He didn’t want to talk to his parents, didn’t want to go online and look at studies about independent living or hear testimonials from other people with Down Syndrome. He wanted his brother to stay the way he used to be. Safe and loved and accounted for, without any threat of a life that could bring him harm.
So he spent the weekend with Carl Joseph.
Saturday morning he helped his brother onto Ace and led him around the arena.
“This is a start, right, Brother? Every bull rider starts on a horse, right?”
“Right.” He patted Carl Joseph’s leg as they walked. “Not everyone who gets on a horse can get on a bull, though. You know that, right?”
Carl Joseph didn’t hesitate. “But I will.” He grinned. “Daisy likes bull riders.”
Cody tried another approach. “But you need a bull first.”
That stopped Carl Joseph cold. He frowned, and as he did, he pulled back on the reins. Ace stopped sharply, irritated.
“Buddy, let up. You shouldn’t pull back so hard.”
“Right.” Carl Joseph relaxed his hold. “Sorry.” He gave Cody a concerned look. “Where are we gonna get a bull?”
“We might not get one.” Cody had to be honest. “But that’s okay. Know why?”
“Why?” Disappointment rang in Carl Joseph’s voice. “Daisy likes bull riders.”
“Yeah, but Daisy likes cowboys, too, right? Wasn’t that what you told me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so see!” He took a step to the side and waved his hand at the picture Carl Joseph made atop the horse. “You’re already a cowboy. So she’ll already like you.”
“Oh.” Carl Joseph pondered that for a moment. “I never thought about how she already likes me.”
“Yeah, Buddy.”
“But, Brother”—he knit his brow together, his lips slightly open—“are you still mad at me?” He had asked the question ten times on Saturday alone.
Cody sighed and gripped Carl Joseph’s knee. “No, Buddy. I’m not mad, remember? I was never mad.”
“But you said it was crazy.”
“I was wrong. I’m sorry.” He tightened his hold on the lead rope and tried to think of another way to make his brother understand. “I was having a bad day. That’s all.”
“Oh.” Carl Joseph sounded relieved. He faced straight ahead. “Bad days happen.”
“Yes, Buddy. Bad days happen.”
“Like when Ali died. Ali the horse rider.”
“Yes.” Cody swallowed back the pain. He patted Ace. “Yes, Buddy—like that.”
After riding horses that day, they watched old footage of Cody’s bull-riding days, and then they settled in for back-to-back movies, one of their favorite ways of spending a day together. By Sunday afternoon, Carl Joseph was no longer asking whether Cody was mad or not. It was a victory, and Cody promised himself he would never again act in such a way as to make Carl Joseph doubt him.
But that didn’t mean he was going to sit by and let his brother be pulled along toward some sort of crazy idea of living on his own. He would keep warning his parents of the dangers, begging them to remove Carl Joseph from the center. And he would make the appointment with the teacher—so he could explain his fears in person. When Monday came, he showered and dressed and appeared at the breakfast table, relaxed and smiling.
He hadn’t said more than a few words to his parents all weekend, so his mother gave him a wary glance. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” He dished himself a bowl of oatmeal and took the seat next to Carl Joseph. The smell of his brother’s cologne was so strong he could taste it, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he smiled. “Buddy and I are going to school together today.”
Carl Joseph looked at Cody for a long moment and then dropped his eyes to his oatmeal. “Right,” he muttered. “Me and Brother are going to school together.”
“Really?” Their mother gave Cody a disapproving look. But when Carl Joseph turned his attention to her, she smiled. “I . . . I didn’t know that.”
“Well, we are.” Cody kept his tone upbeat. “He’s going to show me what they do at the center.”
“That’s not crazy.” Carl Joseph cast an innocent look at their mother. “Right, Mom?”
“Right. Not at all.”
She waited until they were finished eating. Then she stood and turned to Cody. “I’d like to talk to you for a minute, please.”
“I have to brush my teeth.” Carl Joseph cleared his bowl, rinsed it in the sink, and loaded it into the dishwasher. He didn’t clank his dish or drop anything or let the water
run too long. He waved at them and headed down the hall. “Teeth need brushing.”
When he was gone, Cody turned to his mother. “I know what you’re going to say. But it’s my right to go. His teacher asked me to come in before class and talk with her. I want to hear her thoughts on epilepsy.” He walked a few steps toward the dining room, and then back again. “I want her to know that we’re all worried.”
She looked distraught. “Maybe she’ll tell you her plan. She has a way she thinks it could work. Carl Joseph living in a group home, taking medicine for his seizures.”
“No.” Cody said the word a little too loud. He had to keep a grip on his temper. “You can’t let that happen.” He went to her and gently took her hand. “You and Dad need to get him out of that center. It’s only going to hurt him when he can’t reach Goal Day. And clearly he can’t.” He paused, quieter than before. “That’s what the doctor said, right?”
His mother had never come right out and said so. But now she looked down and after a few seconds she nodded. “Yes. The doctor doesn’t think it’s possible.”
Cody felt the weight of Carl Joseph’s disappointment. He gestured down the hall where Carl Joseph had gone. “Think how hard it’s going to be for him, Mom. When he finds out he can’t live on his own.”
Cody took a breath. “Even if Carl Joseph could manage his epilepsy on his own, he couldn’t live by himself. He couldn’t live in a group home without people helping him every hour of the day.” He looked down the hallway toward Carl Joseph’s room again. “I want to see what this Elle Dalton is teaching them. Let me see a person with Down Syndrome who can manage all those things, and maybe I’ll feel differently.”
His mother held his gaze for a long time. “Okay. Go, then. But your brother’s already nervous. He knows you’re not going just because you’re interested.” She let loose a sad sigh. “He senses everything you feel, Cody. Don’t forget that.”