High Hurdles (69 page)

“Yeah, now we’re going to have to live in our cramped house longer.” DJ shook her head. “How can two five-year-old boys take up so much room? They aren’t very big.”

“Boys always take up more room than girls,” Hilary said from the seat next to DJ. “Our house felt empty when my big brother went off to college.”

DJ couldn’t believe her eyes when they drove up Highway 29. Half of the vineyards were still underwater, the knobby grape vines looking like grotesque arms reaching above the water’s surface.

Joe talked on his cell phone for a few minutes, then directed the caravan into a housing development that bordered the Napa River. Mud covered everything, filling the streets and yards. The flood’s high-water mark had crept two feet up on the walls of the houses.

“Pee-uw.” DJ wanted to hold her nose. “How come floods smell so bad?”

“Well, the sewer lines and septic tanks were flooded, for one thing, plus some barnyards and—”

“I get the picture.” DJ looked longingly at the many boxes of food in the back of the Explorer. “You guys must have been making sandwiches all night.”

“Close. You watch, though, they’ll disappear fast.”

A man with a Day-Glo orange vest came to the door before they could climb out. “Hi, Joe, see ya brought the troops.”

“Sure did. How you want them deployed?”

Frank Smith introduced himself, then gave everyone instructions and handed out shovels and rakes to the empty-handed. They all set to work, some inside the houses, and some out. DJ helped tear up carpets, scrape away mud, scrub inside and outside walls, and rake the worst of the mess off people’s yards. Soon, a huge, brown worm of dirt grew in the middle of the street, waiting for the loaders and trucks to haul it away.

Gran carried the boxes of food and bottles of water and soda to one spot, and Frank announced that homeowners were welcome to come help themselves. The food disappeared as Joe had promised. Shoveling mud was mighty hungry work.

“My arms are killing me,” DJ moaned to Hilary. The two of them and John Yamamoto had been a team all day.

John shook his head. “I’m sure glad we live on a hill. Mom has always wanted to live near a river, but there’s not a chance she’ll get her way now.”

“I’ve got aches where I didn’t know I had muscles.” Hilary dumped another scoop into the wheelbarrow. “At least we get to go home to hot showers. All these people can’t.” She gestured at the houses around them. “Those that have water have to boil it before they can use it.”

DJ looked down at her clothes, caked solid with mud. “For once, my mom will be right when she says I stink!”

Instead of going shopping that night, DJ fell asleep in the bathtub. She’d taken a shower first to wash the mud off, then soaked her aching muscles. Her mother helped her into bed.

“What a mess,” DJ mumbled as she drifted off to sleep.

At school Monday, DJ wasn’t the only one walking like a frozen zombie. Others who’d helped wore the same half-open eyes and winced whenever they sat down or stood up. It was especially difficult to keep her eyes open during the film in history.

“DJ.” The gentle voice and the tap on the shoulder seemed to come from far away.

“Huh?” Her cheek felt smashed, and her eyes hot.

“DJ, I think you should wake up now. The bell is about to ring.” Ms. Fisher smiled down at her.

DJ felt like crawling under the desk or melting into a puddle and sliming out the door. How long had she been asleep?

“Way to go.” The boy in the desk behind her poked her in the back.

The bell rang, and the race for the door was on.

DJ couldn’t look the teacher or anyone else in the eye. She’d never fallen asleep in class before. What would her mother say? Surely one time wasn’t concern enough for the teacher to send a note home with her.

“DJ.” Ms. Fisher called her name.

“Yes?” DJ studied the tip of her fingernail.

“Don’t feel so bad. I thought the movie was boring, too. Besides, I heard what you did yesterday. From what the other teachers have been saying, you’re not the only one who’s fallen asleep in class today.”

“Thanks, but I still feel like an idiot.”

“Just get some extra rest tonight. Good thing there are people like you in this world who care about others. I’m proud of you.”

It was amazing how awake DJ felt after the compliment—even algebra went well.

At the Academy, she worked with Patches for her usual hour, carefully keeping to the outer edge of the ring. The jumps had been set up again, and Mrs. Ellsindorf had enlisted one of the stable hands to manage the standards and bars for her. DJ wanted to watch but knew that taking her attention off Patches would be a mistake.

“I should have put you out on the hot walker,” she muttered after another session of crow-hopping. Patches flicked his ear back and forth, taking in the action in the middle of the ring, the conversations at the barns, and anything else going on within eye or earshot.

“Give it up!” The mischievous horse had rounded his spine and tried to get his head down for the umpteenth time.

DJ forced him to stand for a full three minutes until he finally let out his breath. From then on, he behaved perfectly.

“Patches, you old clown, what is your family going to do with you? What will it take for you to behave all the time, not just when you are ready?” He kept the steady lope in his line three feet from the walls and rails.

“You handle him so well,” Mrs. Johnson said with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to watch you two.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long.”

Good, then she didn’t see her horse acting like a bronco.
“When will you be starting your lessons with me?”

“Whenever you say. I’m ready anytime now.” Mrs. Johnson reached over the bar to rub Patches’ neck. “I know all I have to do is learn to make him mind me.” She looked up at DJ. “And I’m counting on you to show me how. You’re doing so well with Andrew that I know we’ll do fine, too.”

DJ felt a warm spot in her middle at the compliments. “Andrew is the one who’s working hard, you know.”

“I know. Say, I’ll take Patches back and put him away, if you like. I know you have a lesson coming up with Bridget.” She swung open the gate, giving a merry wave to Mrs. Ellsindorf at the same time.

Patches shot straight up in the air.

Chapter
•
11

“Knock it off, Patches.” DJ threw her weight forward and smacked the rearing horse between the ears.

Patches dropped to his feet and shook his head.

“DJ, I’m so sorry! That was all my fault.” Mrs. Johnson had the fence rails in a death grip.

“No problem. Wait here. We’ll be right back.” DJ signaled the horse to a jog and took him around the arena, calling him every kind of name she could think of. Patches never even flicked an ear, his head low. If a horse could be embarrassed, he certainly acted that way.

“You are the greatest actor I ever met.” DJ’s voice had gone from scolding to teasing. She stopped him back at the gate.

“Is he all right?” Mrs. Johnson swung the gate open very carefully.

“Patches looks for things to spook at. In fact, you should have named him Spook.” DJ swung off the horse and walked beside his owner. “You just have to watch him every single moment. Lots of horses settle down more as they get older.” She rubbed Patches’ nose. “I’m sure he will, too.”

DJ hoped and prayed she was right. Otherwise, how could the Johnson family ever go trail-riding together like they wanted?

After the pounding Patches had given her, riding Megs for her own lesson felt like sitting on a padded cushion. DJ concentrated on every aspect of her body position and movement, as well as that of her horse, keeping Megs on the bit and bending around the leg like Jackie had taught her. When Bridget signaled her to the side to talk, DJ actually looked forward to it.

“You did well,
ma petite
.”

“Merci.”

Bridget smiled up at her. “You are learning quickly. Now to transfer that learning to Major.”

“I know. At least I know what ‘right’ feels like now. I can see what you mean about both horse and rider becoming better athletes through dressage.”

“Riding Lord Byron did not make you want to concentrate on dressage?”

On Saturday, DJ had told Bridget all about her fantastic rides. DJ shook her head. “There’s just nothing like being airborne. Even Lord Byron didn’t leave the ground.”

“Spoken like a true jumper. Ah, well, we have plenty of work ahead. Next week, you should be able to work with Major again. Do not rush him, though. Build up the strength in that leg slowly so it does not become a recurring problem.”

“I will.” DJ thought a moment. “How slowly do you mean?”

“A very wise question.” Bridget laid out a plan for the next two weeks, patted Megs on the shoulder, and turned to answer a request from another rider.

After putting Megs away, DJ fed Major, Ranger, and Josh, scooped out some droppings, and jumped on her bike to head home. With Joe working on cleanup at home and Amy still on the sick list, she felt as if a chunk of her world was missing. She wished she dared stop by Amy’s, but a phone call would have to do. Her mother might already be home, and tonight they were finally going to pick up the wedding dresses and shop for something for DJ to wear at the horse show.

“Mom, I’m home,” DJ yelled up the stairs, hearing the sound of running water. When there was no answer, she took the steps two at a time and tapped on the door to her mother’s bathroom. “I’m home,” she repeated.

“Good. Can you be ready to leave in half an hour?” Lindy called back.

“I’ll hurry.”

She made it in twenty-nine minutes flat.

“The dresses are beautiful,” Gran said later at the restaurant. “I’m glad I didn’t try to make them myself.”

“You would have made them beautifully, too.” Lindy looked up from reading her menu.

“Oh, I know, but they wouldn’t have been ready by now, and my book illustrations wouldn’t have been done for my deadline, either.”

“And you’d have been a basket case.” Lindy smiled. “Let alone me. Things are bad enough as they are.”

“Bad how?” DJ asked.

“Bad as in so crazy I can’t keep up.” Lindy raised her hands palm up. “You know, this is the first time in weeks I haven’t had somewhere else I had to be or something to do as soon as I get home.”

“So everything is set for the wedding, then.”

“Out of the mouths of babes.” Gran’s eyes held a twinkle that said she wholeheartedly agreed.

“Not that I’m a babe.”

“No, not a babe of either kind,” Lindy said. “And thank God, too.”

DJ looked from her mother to her grandmother, then broke out in laughter. Her mother had tickled her funny bone.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.” Lindy looked puzzled.

Gran shrugged and shook her head. The twinkle in her eyes said
she
got the joke.

So her mother hadn’t meant to be funny. DJ took a long swallow from her soda. Oh well, at least she knew her mother had a sense of humor somewhere in there, even though she claimed she couldn’t remember the punch line of a joke if she were paid to.

Somehow they managed to find just the right clothes for DJ—and without her having to try on fifty different things, which she disliked doing even more than algebra. The navy bomber jacket looked good with tan pants, jeans, or even a skirt—if DJ had owned one. With a couple of new turtlenecks and a V-neck sweater, along with some clothes she already owned, DJ could mix and match to go anywhere.

When her mother insisted on buying her some chunky-heeled dress boots, DJ didn’t argue. A small purse with a long, thin shoulder strap would take the place of her backpack.

“Thanks, Mom, Gran,” DJ said for the umpteenth time.

“You’re welcome.” Lindy looked up in the rearview mirror to catch DJ’s eye. “I still think we should have gotten you the robe and pj’s.”

“I don’t need them.”

“Sure you do. In fact, I think I’ll pick them up after work tomorrow. Do have enough underwear?”

“M-o-t-h-e-r.”

“She’s not going to the moon and back,” Gran said with a chuckle. When Lindy started to say something, Gran continued. “This just shows you are really a mother at heart after all, dear. I wonder how many times I told you to be sure to have clean underwear—no holes—”

“Just in case I had an accident and had to go to the emergency room,” Lindy and DJ finished the words together.

The warm glow remained inside DJ’s heart as she put her new things away and got ready for bed. Shopping hadn’t been so bad after all.

“Thanks, God, today was super. And thanks that Amy gets to come back to school tomorrow—I’ve sure missed her. Please help all the people who’ve been flooded and thanks for keeping Joe safe, as well as Brad and Jackie and all their horses.” She fell asleep still giving thanks.

DJ and Amy talked nonstop on the way to school in the morning, through lunch, and on the way home. They still hadn’t gotten caught up when it was time to leave for the Academy. Since the sun and clouds were in a contest for first place, they rode their bikes for a change, but pumping up the hill set Amy to coughing.

“You sure you shouldn’t go home and rest? I can take care of Josh another day or two.” DJ paused to wait until Amy caught her breath.

“No way! I’ve been in jail too long already. I was about to call you to come bust me out.” The talking made her cough again. “This will go away some year—the doctor said so.”

“Okay, but—”

“No buts. Get your legs moving, we’ve got horses waiting for us!”

That night, Brad called to tell her that Jackie had left that morning with Lord Byron and a friend’s horse in the trailer. The two women were driving and wanted to get to the showgrounds a couple of days early to get acclimated.