Leading the Way (4 page)

S
kye, glued to her chair, glanced at the two women at opposite ends of the table. Standing, Mrs. Thomas hastily wiped her mouth with the napkin. “I’m so sorry. I’ll get her to apologize.”

Mrs. Chambers raised her hand. “Wait, Christine. There’s enough time for that.” She looked at Skye. “Honey, would you please try to talk to her? No one can truly know how she feels, but maybe she’ll listen to you. Go on. We’ll wait here.”

Mrs. Thomas edged back into her seat, stress draping her face like a mask.

“Sure, Mom,” Skye said. “I can only try.”

Biding her time, Skye laid her napkin down. She stood, and for the company’s sake, forced a smile.
God, you’re gonna have to help me with this one.
She prayed all the way down the hall.

“Just try to get her calmed down so we can talk!” Mrs. Chambers called after her.

Skye gave Mrs. Chambers a thumbs-up sign. She knocked softly on the door.

“Go away!” Katie yelled.

“Katie, it’s me,” Skye said. “I wanna talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Just leave me alone.”

“Well, you can’t stay in there forever! Your peach cobbler is getting moldy. C’mon, let me in.”

Silence.

“I’m not leaving!” Skye’s tone made that clear.

Silence.

“Oh, all right!” Katie finally gave in.

Skye walked in and stood beside the open door.

Katie busied herself with a gadget and a bag of potato chips at her computer desk. She had already slipped on earphones.

“C’mon, Katie, let’s have it,” Skye said sharply. “What’s with you? You are one nasty critter when your mother’s around.”

Katie backed up and flopped on the bed, sitting against the headboard. She clicked a tab on her book port and adjusted her earphones. “Hey, I’m busy, okay?” She scowled. “Later.”

“I’m not leaving!” Skye practically bellowed. “So you might as well just make up your mind to talk.” She walked over and sat on the foot of the bed.

In an instant, Katie’s face shriveled up like an old prune. Laying down the device, she peeled off the earphones, her green eyes searching their black, empty world. “Skye, I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody. Don’t you get it?”

“Hey, people care about you and what happens to you,” Skye said. “Don’t you get it?”

“Yeah, right,” Katie snapped. “Like all my good friends. Where are they now?”

Skye’s voice relaxed. “Probably running the other direction when you’re around. You’re not exactly Miss Congeniality. You’re more like Miss Sourpuss.”

“Skye, you—are—not—blind!” Katie poured out all her hurt and anger in five words.

“So I’ve heard,” Skye said nonchalantly.

“And I am!” Katie sassed back.

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

“What?” Katie’s voice squeaked.

“You heard me. What are you gonna do about it?”

Silence.

Skye’s voice reflected deep concern. “This is one time you are not gonna hear someone say, ‘I know how you feel,’ because I don’t. But you could make life a lot easier—and happier—for yourself.”

“Why should I even bother?”

“I realize that your friends all have their own lives. And your life is a one-eighty since your accident. But, Katie, nobody wants to be around an old grump, blind or not.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“You know, your mother is right about your needing some kind of goal in your life. With all this stuff you have, you could be an A student again.”

“I have goals,” Katie smarted off.

“What are they?”

“To get up every morning.”

Skye snickered. “Wow, what a life! C’mon, Katie. You can’t stay hidden in your bedroom forever. There are lots of things blind people can do.”

Katie snickered back. “Like what? Count beads?”

“Now, you know better than that. I’ve seen blind people on TV who work in offices and factories.”

“Whoopee,” Katie said and sneered.

“I’ve seen others do volunteer work at hospitals, even play instruments. Hey, I saw a TV program once about a blind girl who rode a horse in a show. She won a ribbon! What do you think of that?”

Silence.

“The way I see it, your parents—well, your mom for sure and probably your dad too—they want the best for you. That’s why you’re at Keystone Stables.”

“If my parents wanted the best for me, they wouldn’t be getting divorced. I hate them for that.”

“Are you sure that’s the reason? I think you’re just being selfish.”

“What do you mean?” Katie asked.

“Your mom says that when you three are together, all you do is argue over whose fault the accident was. How did it happen, Katie?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it!”

“Why not?”

“It’s over. It’s in the past. I can’t do anything about it. Okay?”

“It doesn’t seem to be over at all, Katie, especially not in your head.”

Katie pulled her legs tight against her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Now you’re gonna tell me what I’m thinking?”

Skye chose her next words carefully. “I know how I was thinking, a few years back. I was mad at the whole world. In some really awful foster homes, I felt just like a slave. I hated my foster parents, and they hated me. Some of them were only in it for the money.”

“So…?”

“So…I was mad at everyone and everything; I couldn’t think straight. I even hated God because he let it happen.”

Silence.

“Katie, how did the accident happen?”

Katie lowered her head onto her knees. “Dad was driving,” she said in a near whisper.

“And…?”

The question hung heavily in the air.

Katie felt her way to the edge of the bed. Now sitting next to Skye, she stared straight ahead as though watching her past unfolding on a huge screen. “It was in the winter on a Saturday afternoon, and it was snowing buckets.
We were going to Aunt Carol’s birthday party. Dad didn’t want to go, but Mom insisted. On the way, they were arguing about something, and we slid on ice. Our car went sideways into another car. Mom and Dad were banged up a bit. The side where I was sitting got the worst of it. But it still wasn’t as bad as the other car.” She sighed. “I’ll never forget the look of horror on the other driver’s face as we hit him. He was killed. And that’s the last thing I ever saw.”

“Oh, Katie, how awful!” Skye said.

“I was in the hospital and rehab for months. At first, Mom and Dad were there for me, but after a while, all they did was blame each other and fight. Sometimes their fights were over really stupid things.”

“And you blame both of them, don’t you?”

Silence.

“Katie?”

“Well, why shouldn’t I?” Her voice took on a hurt tone again. “And now the divorce is making it a thousand times worse.”

Skye positioned herself on the bed right next to Katie. “Can’t you see that they’re already on a big guilt trip without your reminding them every day?”

“No, I can’t see!” Katie’s sarcasm sliced the air like a sharp knife.

Skye pleaded her case. “Nothing changed in my life until I faced myself and the fact that I was mean and hateful, not because of anyone else but because of my own attitude. Katie, have you thought about asking God to forgive you for your rotten attitude? And shouldn’t you forgive your parents?”

“Right now I don’t think God cares about me at all.” Katie sniffled.

Skye glanced at Katie, whose tears trickled down bright red cheeks.

“That’s how I felt about God too,” Skye said softly. “But he does care, more than we’ll ever know. It took me
a while, but when I realized that, things started turning around—for the better. Why don’t you try it?”

Katie sat on the edge of the bed, tears flowing, nose sniffling.

Skye spotted a box of tissues, grabbed a handful, and passed them to Katie. “Here, looks like you could use some of these.”

Katie wiped her cheeks and blew her nose. “Gosh, I never thought any of this could be my own fault.”

“If your parents see that you have come to grips with your blindness and you’ve set some goals, maybe, just maybe, they’ll try to work their differences out. You could make it a lot easier for them.”

“What should I do, Skye?”

“Let’s pray. You can ask the Lord to forgive you. I’ll help you, okay?”

“Okay.” Katie sniffled.

Skye started, “Dear God, here’s my new friend Katie, who could really use your help. Go ahead, Katie…”

Skye listened while Katie poured her heart out. She asked God to change her from the inside out. When they had finished, Katie let out a long sigh of relief. Her face seemed to glow, Skye thought, with a smile from deep down in her heart.

Katie wiped her nose, adding the tissue to a pile of wet balls already dotting the bed. She reached and touched Skye’s arm. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Skye replied. “Only God can make you feel that clean.”

Katie paused and then said, “Skye, I sure wish I knew what you looked like.”

“I’m just an ordinary kid, Katie,” Skye said.

“Skye…” Katie hesitated. “Will you let me touch your face? I’d like to know what my new best friend looks like.”

Skye paused. “Um…sure.”

“I just want you to know I don’t go around feeling people’s faces all the time.” Katie snickered. “But I’d really like to.”

“Sure.” Skye turned as Katie lifted her hands. Closing her eyes, Skye imagined again what blindness would really be like.

Gently, Katie’s fingers felt Skye’s long, silky hair. She felt her forehead, fingering her eyebrows and curly eyelashes, her cheeks and button nose, finally her lips drawn into a big smile. Then Skye looked at Katie, whose face now radiated with her own warm smile.

“Gosh, you’re pretty,” Katie said.

“Only a blind person would tell me that,” Skye said.

Both girls burst into laughter, the tension between them dissolving instantly.

“Well, you’re still one of my favoritist people in the whole wide world!” Katie added. She then seemed to focus beyond Skye, her beautiful green eyes darting as if to follow a distant, elusive dream.

“Skye, you said before that you had seen a blind girl ride in a horse show.”

“Right on,” Skye said. “Why?”

Katie stood, her face set in determination. “Skye, I want to barrel race a horse!”

W
ell, it is possible!” Mrs. Chambers said. Sitting on Boomer, she pushed her suede Stetson back on her head and patted the Pinto’s neck. He oozed a white lather of sweat and huffed like a locomotive. “With a horse trained like this little guy, I think Katie can do it.”

Skye shielded her eyes from the morning sun as she and Katie leaned against the fence of the Keystone Stables practice field. “You mean it, Mom?” Skye said.

“No kidding?” Katie’s excitement burst through a mouthful of bubblegum.

“Ride ’em, cowgirl!” Mr. Chambers shouted from the small paddock where he, Morgan, and Chad instructed the other students.

“Looks like another blue ribbon for you and Boomer in the horse show, Mrs. C.!” Chad yelled.

Mrs. Chambers waved toward the paddock and smiled. She turned her attention back to the girls. “Katie, it’ll take a lot of hard work, but after watching you ride Boomer for just a few weeks, I think you two can do it.”

“How’d it feel running the barrels with your eyes closed?” Skye asked.

“Needless to say, quite different,” Mrs. Chambers answered. “It forced me to rely much more on my instincts—and Boomer’s. He knows the routine like he was born in a barrel.”

They all laughed.

“Katie,” Mrs. Chambers continued, “the first thing you’ll have to do is learn the cloverleaf layout of the three barrels. Once you memorize the course and the distance between the barrels, you can learn how to sense when Boomer’s ready to cut, either to the left or right. You already have excellent balance, so timing is your key to success here.”

“How far apart are the barrels?” Katie asked.

“Oh,” Mrs. Chambers answered, “in a standard course, the barrels are about a hundred feet apart. In kids’ terms, that’s about a third of a football field.”

“I’m no barrel racer, but can I help?” Skye asked.

“You sure may,” Mrs. Chambers said. “You and Katie can ride double and walk Boomer in the cloverleaf pattern over and over. Then you can graduate to a trot. When Katie feels confident, she can try it herself. Eventually we’ll move on to the faster pace. Katie can ride with me until she learns the feel of the run.”

“How long does it take to race the three barrels?” Katie asked.

“The best riders can do it in about fifteen seconds,” Skye said. “But since you’re a kid, and you’ll be in a special-needs class, I’d say thirty seconds would be good, right, Mom?”

“That’s probably a good guess.” Mrs. Chambers dismounted and offered Boomer’s reins to Skye.

Skye squeezed between the fence railings, took the reins, and petted Boomer’s muzzle.

“What happens if a rider or a horse hits a barrel?” Katie asked.

“If you just brush against it,” Mrs. Chambers said, “you aren’t penalized, but it does slow the horse down a little.”

“The worst thing that can happen is knocking over a barrel,” Skye added. “You get five seconds slapped onto your total time. You get docked some points for losing your hat too!”

“And there goes your chance of winning a ribbon or placing at all,” Mrs. Chambers said.

“Wow. I’m ready to start,” Katie said. “I can’t wait!”

“You girls can start anytime,” Mrs. Chambers said as she slipped through the fence railings and pointed toward two objects lying on the lawn behind the girls. “I see your helmets are ready for you to get started.”

“What’s wrong with right now?” Skye asked.

“Yeah.” Katie’s voice bubbled. “How about right now?”

“Go for it!” Mrs. Chambers said. “If you need me, I’ll be helping Joey with his first lesson in hoof cleaning.”

“Okay, Mom.” Skye turned to Katie. “I think the best way to do this is for you to sit in the saddle. I’ll mount in back of you. I’ll tell you when Boomer approaches a barrel.”

“That’ll work,” Katie said.

Helmets in place, the girls mounted the horse and started their practice. For an hour, they simply walked through the cloverleaf pattern of barrels. Boomer led as though he were an electric horse on a track.

“Just remember,” Skye explained as they rounded a barrel, “if your first turn is clockwise, then the next two must be counterclockwise. Boomer knows this. See how he starts to cut even before you rein him?”

“Yeah, I can sense that in the way his body moves. This is too cool.”

“And remember to let him have his head as he’s coming out of the cut. You just hang on to the horn and
press your legs into his sides. That’ll tell him that you’re ready for the next barrel. After you round the third one, you race for the finish line like his tail’s on fire. He can really move.”

Both girls giggled.

“When do you think we’ll be ready to trot and run?” Katie asked.

“Mom and Dad will have to decide that, but I think in a few weeks you’ll be ready for Mom to work with you. Let’s do one more run, and we’ll call it quits for the day. Okay?”

“Okay,” Katie said.

The team walked through two-thirds of the course before anyone spoke. Skye’s attention wandered to the paddock where Chad was busy with his students.

“I’ve been thinking…” Katie said.

“Oh…about what?” Skye came back from her daydream.

“The horse show’s at the end of the summer, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s the third week in August. It starts the twenty-third or something like that. Why?”

Katie paused before answering.

“Do you have something up your sleeve?” Skye asked.

“My birthday is the twenty-first.”

“And?”

“Do you know what I want more than anything else in the world?”

“To be able to see,” Skye said emphatically.

“No—well—besides that.”

“I give up. What?”

“I want my parents to get back together. Don’t you remember our talk the other day?”

“Oh, right. So what does the horse show have to do with your parents? Or your birthday?”

“Well, when we talked, you said I needed a goal, something to show my parents that I’m getting on with life.”

“And so here we are, on Boomer’s back, goin’ in circles.”

The girls giggled again.

“I wanna barrel race in that horse show, Skye.”

Skye swallowed hard. “Gosh, I don’t know, Katie. That’s only two months of practice time. Are you—”

“Listen, Skye.” Katie’s tone was as determined as ever. “I know I can do this, especially if I know my parents are coming to see me.”

“Well, how will you get them here? And at the same time?”

“For my birthday!” Katie’s excitement was obvious. “I know they’ll both come for that, and then they can stay for the horse show, and they can see me ride this super horse, and—”

“Whoa, Boomer!” Skye said as the girls rode the horse across the finish line. “And whoa, Katie! That’s expecting an awful lot of yourself and your parents in such a short time.”

Skye slid off the horse, and Katie followed. The girls led Boomer to the barn.

“I can do this,” Katie said, smacking her gum. “If I win the blue ribbon, they’ll get back together. I just know it.”

“Well, let’s discuss your plan with Mom and Dad first. And maybe we should all pray about it.” Skye had exhausted her arguments.

“You pray about it,” Katie said. “I’ll just do it!”