The Long Ride (15 page)

And while they worked to help Fez, Callie lay in a hospital bed. She had two operations to relieve pressure on her brain, and she remained in a coma. While Stevie and Carole spent every minute they could looking after Fez, neither one of them could stand the idea of seeing Callie. Not yet.

A week after the accident, the police formally dismissed all potential charges against Stevie. Another driver had been on the road, behind Stevie's car. He'd seen everything that happened and said there was no way Stevie could have avoided the horse, which had run straight into her car.

Still it wasn't enough. Even though the law exonerated her, Stevie wasn't ready to exonerate herself.

“It almost doesn't matter what they say,” she told Carole. “What matters is Callie.”

“At least you were nice to her,” said Carole. “I never gave her a chance. I was going to tell her I was sorry, but I couldn't think of a way to say anything when we went to the airport, and now I don't know if I'll ever have a chance.”

There was nothing more to say. Fortunately, there was a lot to do. Fez was a demanding patient, and they were determined to do everything they could for him, since they couldn't do anything for his owner.

After two weeks Callie woke up. She opened her eyes for the first time at three o'clock in the morning. Scott was by her bedside, sleeping in a chair, when he heard her speak.

“Hello? Who's there?” she asked.

Scott sat bolt upright, hardly believing what he'd just heard.

“Callie? Are you all right?”

“I guess so,” she said. “Where am I? What's going on? What happened?”

Scott was so relieved to hear his sister speak that he almost didn't notice his own tears.

“Oh, it's a long story,” he said. “You've been out of it for about two weeks. Do you remember anything?”

“I don't think so,” Callie said. “I just remember windshield wipers. I thought they'd never stop. Oh, my god, Stevie and Carole. Are they okay?”

“They're fine,” Scott said. “Minor injuries. Now, just relax. I'm going to call Mom and Dad. Then I'll tell you everything. Like I said, it's a long story.”

“In that case, get me something to eat before you talk. I'm starving!”

Over the course of the next few hours, Callie learned everything that had happened since the accident. Scott told her how Stevie and Carole were looking after Fez and that they called every day to say how he was doing. Callie's parents came over to the hospital to see her and just hug her. Callie ate some Jell-O, which the hospital provided, and some pizza, which her father brought from home.

And then the doctors arrived. They tested, questioned, poked, prodded, tapped, tickled, and beamed.

“Good … Hmmm … Interesting … Very good … Amazing,” they said.

In the end they were very pleased with how well Callie was doing.

“When can we bring her home?” her parents asked when they spoke with the doctors in the hall after they'd completed their examination.

The doctors looked at one another. Dr. Amandson shook his head.

“Not for a while,” he told them. “You see, she's partially paralyzed on her left side.”

“We thought you said she was doing well.”

“She is. Extremely well. With the kinds of injuries she sustained, we were expecting much worse. She's doing extraordinarily well, in fact. She is alert. She can talk, think, reason, and use all five senses. The only residual damage to the extreme trauma her brain suffered is that her left side doesn't work very well.”

“But paralyzed? What does this mean?” Mrs. Forester asked.

“She's going to need physical therapy—lots of it,” said Dr. Amandson. “What's happened, basically, is that some of her brain was damaged—the part that controls movement on the left side of her body. That part of her brain may heal itself in time, or it may not. The brain is a marvelous invention, especially the brain of a young, healthy girl like your daughter. If the damaged part doesn't heal, another part of the brain can be encouraged to learn whatever got lost in the accident. With hard work, concentration, and endurance, Callie will be up and walking soon. Eventually she may be as good as new. The therapist will be here in the morning to help plan a program for her. Now, tell me, do you have any questions?”

“Not right now,” said Mr. Forester.

“Yes, one—or maybe a few,” said Mrs. Forester.

Yes?

“Is Callie out of danger?”

“I don't know,” Dr. Amandson told her. “We'll have to watch her closely, for a long time, until we're sure.”

“Is there any way this physical therapy could be dangerous to her?”

“No, not really,” said the doctor. “As long as it's carefully monitored.”

“What kinds of things will they do?”

“The therapist will develop a program that will begin very slowly, building up muscles and working on balance and coordination skills. We've found that the progressive healing of patients in physical therapy is a lot like the way babies learn motor skills, crawling, walking, and so on. They try to create a program that is interesting as well as useful. I don't know Callie other than as a comatose patient. Is there some activity that she enjoys more than others that we might try to incorporate in her therapy? Swimming perhaps?”

“Well, she does like to swim,” said Mrs. Forester.

“Horseback riding,” Mr. Forester said. “It's the thing she loves the most in the world.”

The doctor smiled. “Have you ever heard of therapeutic riding?” he asked.

“No,” said Mrs. Forester. “But I have the feeling we're going to hear a lot about it—and soon.”

A few weeks after that, Emily found Carole and Stevie in Fez's stall.

“Ouch!” said Carole, shaking her hand. Fez had nipped at her fingers when she gave him a carrot. “Didn't you ever hear the saying Don't bite the hand that feeds you?”

“Being sick has not improved his disposition,” Stevie said.

“It rarely does,” Emily told them. “And, speaking of being sick, guess who called me. I hate it when people say things like that, so I'll tell you. Callie Forester. She was calling me from the physical therapy room at the hospital. Her therapist thinks horseback riding would be good. They wanted her to go to Free Rein—the therapeutic riding center where I learned to ride—but she said that if she was going to ride again, it was going to be at Pine Hollow. She wants me to be her instructor.”

“Perfect,” said Carole. “Absolutely perfect. You'll be perfect for her.”

“Maybe I will be, but PC definitely will be. He'll be glad to have another rider from time to time.” Emily had utter faith in her horse, and everybody who had ever seen him perform knew she had reason to feel that way.

“When will she be at Pine Hollow?” Stevie asked.

“Right, how soon?” Carole echoed.

“We made a date for next Wednesday morning. You'll both be here, won't you?”

“Absolutely,” said Stevie.

“Of course,” Carole told her. “We wouldn't miss that for anything.”

“Good, because she'll be here with her therapist and her parents. I think Scott's coming, too. It's going to be a real family outing for them. There's a lot of work to be done before then, too.”

“Yes,” Carole said. She knew what Emily meant, but she had work of her own to do before she saw Callie. She had to figure out how to apologize for the past and make the future better.

“Both her parents?” Stevie asked. “They'll be here?”

“That's what she said.”

Stevie felt a shiver. The whole family would be there. She hadn't seen them since the hospital. Now she'd see them all. Scott, whom Stevie liked because he was charming and funny, probably wouldn't be funny anymore. Stevie had been driving in the accident that hurt his sister. Congressman and Mrs. Forester wouldn't want to see Stevie because Stevie's car had nearly killed their daughter when it struck their horse.

And Callie?

Could Stevie look at any of them? What would she say? How could she say she was sorry in a way that meant anything when she'd hurt them all so badly? Could she ever face them?

She didn't know.

SIXTEEN

The first person to arrive on Wednesday was Scott. Carole, Stevie, and Emily were tacking up PC for Callie when Scott came up the driveway, riding a bicycle.

He looked around uncertainly and then, recognizing Carole, walked over to the girls. Stevie was glad she was standing on the far side of the horse. Maybe she'd never have to speak to anyone.

“Hi,” Carole said. “I guess it's Callie's big day.”

“I don't know. This seems pretty crazy to me.” Scott shook his head.

“You'll see.” Carole introduced him to Emily, who leaned forward with a crutch under her left arm to shake hands with her right.

“I know, I know,” she said, anticipating his concern. “You're trying to figure out if this is a case of the blind leading the blind …”

Scott blanched. Clearly Emily had been right on the mark. “I wasn't going to put it that way,” he protested, shifting his eyes away from her crutch and back to her face.

“Of course not,” said Emily.

“Well, I guess my sister knows what she's doing.”

“We'll see, won't we?” Emily asked. “Anyway, I was as uncertain as you are, but I've talked with Callie's therapist, and we have a pretty good program lined up for your sister. Besides, it's not me who is going to be doing the instructing. It's good old PC here. He knows absolutely everything. He's the best teacher in the world.” She gave him a firm pat on the neck to punctuate her statement. The well-behaved horse didn't budge.

“You named your horse after a computer?” Scott asked, smiling for the first time.

“No, it stands for Physical Courage,” said Emily.

Carole laughed. Stevie smiled tentatively. PC's “real” name was an ongoing joke. Whenever somebody asked Emily what PC stood for, she had a different, and apt, answer.

“Is something wrong with your car?” Carole asked, noticing the bike for the first time. Stevie cringed, shifting herself even farther behind the horse. She had noticed the bicycle immediately and didn't want to hear the answer. It wasn't going to help to talk about cars.

“Uh, no—Well, yes—Sort of,” Scott stammered.

It was the accident. Stevie was sure. It had to be. Because of her carelessness, the congressman and his wife must have decided that all young drivers were unsafe. Or maybe it had frightened Scott so much that he couldn't drive anymore.

“I've been grounded,” Scott said.

Stevie had to know. “Is it because of me?” she asked.

“No,” he said, looking at her for the first time. He seemed to be about to say something but changed his mind. Instead, he turned his attention to Carole and continued. “Not at all. It's because of me. I was driving the Jeep a couple of weeks ago before we moved here and I backed into a stone wall on our neighbor's property. I just made a small dent, but Dad found it last week and blew up at me. It wasn't so much that I'd done the damage, he said, but that I'd tried to hide it. Being a congressman makes him especially touchy on the subject of cover-ups. Anyway, I'm on two-wheel transport for a month.”

“S-Scratch? Dent?” Stevie stammered.

“Yeah,” said Scott.

“Left rear?” she asked.

“You must have seen it in the body shop, I guess,” said Scott. “It really wasn't much of a dent. It won't even reach our deductible, but it definitely annoyed my father. He's tough.”

That dent. It seemed like such a small thing compared to everything else that had happened, but it made Stevie feel a little better to know that she hadn't made the dent in the Foresters' Jeep. That didn't change the fact that she'd tried to hide it, but that was too complicated now. She patted PC vigorously to mask her relief.

Carole looked over at Stevie. Stevie never was any good at hiding her feelings. She knew something had just happened to her friend, but she had no idea what. She'd find out later. For now, she had her own weight to lift.

The Foresters' car pulled into Pine Hollow's driveway. Carole could see Callie's parents in the front seat. Callie and another person—presumably her physical therapist—were in the back. It was time for Carole to talk to Callie, to do it right, to start all over again.

She walked over to the car when it stopped and waited for the door to open. With the help of the therapist and a pair of crutches, Callie got out. She was unsteady, unsure, and insecure in every way.

Carole took a deep breath, smiled at the girl, and stepped forward. She was determined to make this a new beginning, just as she'd done that day with Fez when she'd untacked him and started over.

“Callie, I want us to have a fresh start,” she said.

Callie nodded.

Carole offered her hand. “Welcome to Pine Hollow,” she said. “You're going to love it here, I know.”

Callie looked at it uncertainly for a second, then tucked her left crutch firmly under her arm for balance and reached forward with her right hand, much as Emily had done a few minutes earlier with Scott.

“I'm sure it'll be great,” said Callie, shaking Carole's hand. She smiled back.

Callie's parents also got out of the car. Max came out of the stable and greeted them warmly. The therapist helped Callie over to where PC was waiting for her. Max introduced Emily and PC to the Forester family.

Callie looked awkwardly at Emily. “I never really—and now—”

“It's okay, Callie,” Emily said, cutting off the apology she knew was coming her way. “You already took care of that. What's past is past.”

“I only wish …,” said Callie. She helped herself forward so that she could pat PC. “This is the boy who's going to teach me to walk again?” she asked.