Uncategorized
by kate
Comments Off on “…Eyeballs…” Bk I: 6. Grace, Martha, and The Slee pShirt Solution
“…Eyeballs…” Bk I: 6. Grace, Martha, and The Slee pShirt Solution
Hey! You Got Eyeballs In There?
By Kate Chamberlin
As Grace grows up, some of her stories are happy, some trying, some enlightening, and a few themes are sad, but, they’re all the warp and woof of what goes into the tapestry of life we call Family. The daily living skills and techniques demonstrated by the fictional characters in these stories are valid, tried and true.
#1. If You Can’t See…
#3. The Night Search For A Missing Puppy
#4. JUST DUCKY
#6. Grace, Martha, and The Sleep Shirt Solution
Five year old Grace sat near the open window listening for car tires on her gravel driveway. She’d put on her favorite tee shirt with the embroidered flowers around the neck. Her shorts were the same pale blue of the bumpiest flowers. She carefully strung macaroni, bells and buttons for a friendship necklace to give her cousin. The cousin she’d never even met.
“How old is Martha, Mom?” She asked as she recognized the whiff of her mother’s perfume passing by.
“You are three days younger than Martha,” her Mom said placing the vase of peonies on the dining room table. “My sister and I were pregnant at the same time.”
“If she is family,” Grace asked, jingling a little bell and pausing her project just long enough to pat the sleeping puppy at her feet, “how come we’ve never had parties with them?”
“Well, the Army keeps its people on the move.” Her Mom answered. “They are only here on a four week leave. Tonight they’ll be with us. Other nights they’ll be with the rest of the family.”
“Why does…?” she began but stopped as she heard a car on the gravel driveway. “They’re here!”
Grace held Goldie’s leash as the excited puppy pulled her toward the car in the driveway.
The grown-ups hugged and kissed and cried. She felt their wet hugs and kisses but there weren’t any child-size hugs.
Grace felt the excited tug of Goldie’s leash again. The 5 month old Golden Retriever saw Martha pretending to be asleep in the car. Grace followed Goldie’s tug and went over to the open car door with her.
Martha laid very still thinking Grace would never know the difference. Goldie could see her, though and smothered her in wet puppy kisses until she dissolved into giggles.
“Hi,” said Grace. “Are you Martha?”
“Yuck!” Martha said. “Ugh! My lips touched dog lips! What’s the dumb dog’s name?”
“Goldie,” Grace said. “We’re raising her to be a guide dog. She’s the third one we’ve had. I’ll get a real guide dog when I’m 16.”
“Cool,” Martha said as she got out of the car. She was soon covered with Grace’s parents’ hugs and kisses along with Goldie’s.
Grace and Martha sat at a special table just for kids. It was noisy at the big table as their parents caught up on all the family news.
It was quiet at the kids table.
“If you can’t see,” Martha blurted out, “how can you eat?”
“Usually I can smell what I’m eating, “Grace said, “and sometimes Mom will tell me what’s on my plate; like a clock.”
“Oh,” Martha smirked and swiped Grace’s pickle chips.
After dinner when everyone was just sitting around, Martha suggested they play Charades. It was a game she and her parents had played often. She was good at it, too.
“Well,” Martha’s Mom said, “let’s do something that Grace can do.”
“I like Charades,” Grace said. “Mom, can I get the game box?”
“You sure can,” her Mom said.
“If she can’t see,” Martha said, “how can she guess at what we are doing?”
“As you act it out, we call out our guesses,” Grace’s Mom answered, “Grace is very good at drawing conclusions. She often beats us to the correct answer.”
Martha did not call out her guesses. She did not like being beaten at the game she had suggested. She especially didn’t like having to wear a macaroni necklace and hid it under the neck of her polo shirt.
When it was time for bed, Grace and Martha put Goldie in her wire crate in the kitchen.
“If you’re so sure you can’t see,” Martha said, “then how can you take care of a dog?”
“Mom always puts Goldie’s food in the same place. I use a cup to scoop the right amount,” Grace said.
“Why can’t she sleep with us?” Martha wanted to know.
“It’s part of her training,” Grace said. “Mom says this is part of my training, too.”
Their folks came in to say good night when the girls were in new, matching sleep shirts. No one noticed the macaroni necklaces half hidden under the sleep shirts. “Are you two girls too big for a bed-time story?” Grace’s Mom asked.
“Oh, Mom,” Grace said, “could Martha and I read it to you?”
“Read?” Martha frowned. “How can YOU read THEM a story if you can’t see?”
“Look,” Grace said reaching over to the book shelf near her bed. “You read one page in print, I’ll read one page in braille.”
When Martha thought everyone was asleep, she got out of her cot and went to see Goldie. The puppy was awake and wagging her tail at the sight of someone to play with.
Quietly she unlatched Goldie’s crate and took her out onto the porch. Goldie nibbled the macaroni necklace that peeked above her sleep shirt. Martha took it off and put it on Goldie. She had to wrap it around twice so it wouldn’t fall off.
A sound in the back meadow caught Goldie’s attention. She took off at a run to check it out. Martha called to her but she did not return. Martha was afraid to go off the porch in the dark.
“The dumb dog will be back when it’s hungry,” she muttered and went back to her cot.
Grace was the first one up in the morning. She put a robe over her sleep-shirt and quietly went downstairs to feed Goldie. She felt for the crate’s latch. It was unhooked. She felt for the dog’s familiar soft fur and wet nose. Goldie wasn’t in her crate. She wasn’t in the kitchen. Her leash was on its hook but Goldie didn’t come when Grace called her.
A cool morning breeze came through the kitchen screen door. She knew her Mom always closed and locked that door.
“Mom?” She softly called. “Is Goldie with you?” No one answered.
Grace felt the latch on the screen door.
“Hello,” She said stepping out onto the porch. The morning mist was wet on her cheeks.
“Goldie,” She called. “Goldie, come.”
“Where’s Goldie?” Martha’s voice made Grace jump.
“I don’t know,” Grace said. “I came down to feed her and she was already out but her leash is on its hook. Do you see her?”
“No,” Martha said. “It’s too foggy to see anything.”
“I’m going to look for her,” Grace sighed.
“Wait, if you can’t see, how can you find her?”
“I’ve been all over the meadow with my long, white cane,” Grace snapped. “Are you coming?”
“No,” Martha whined. “The fog is too thick for me to see anything.”
“Well, I can’t see anything either. Now are you going to help me look for Goldie or not?”
The girls stepped off the porch hand in hand.
Grace swished her cane from left to right and back again. After many steps she heard a clunk and the cane stopped.
“Here is the stone we use for first base,” Grace told Martha. “Goldie, come.”
“First base?” Martha said in surprise. “How can blind kids play baseball?”
“We play kick baseball. Dad and I use a ball with a beep in it.” Grace whispered. “Be quiet. Did you hear something? A little bell?”
“No,” A worried Martha said.
Swish, swish went Grace’s cane again as they moved farther away from the porch and its safety. An eerie light came through the fog as the sun sneaked a peak over the meadow.
“It’s creepy out here,” Martha said. “I’m going back.” She looked behind her. She had no idea which way was back.
“If it looks creepy,” Grace said,” then don’t look. Count steps with me until we get to the old quarry at the edge of the meadow.”
Swish, swish. Martha held Grace’s hand a bit tighter and closed her eyes.
Thunk.
“Here is the ridge of rock at the edge of the meadow,” Grace said, knowing very well she was not allowed to be this near the old quarry. “Goldie, come.”
“Grace, this is stupid,” Martha said. “Your dumb dog is probably home now. Let’s go back…”
“Sh, I heard something,” Grace said. “Listen. Goldie, come.”
“I don’t hear anything,” Martha said.
“It’s a bell,” Grace said. “No, it’s a whimper. Listen. Goldie, come.”
“I hear it, too,” Martha said. “Where’s it coming from?”
“This way,” and Grace tapped carefully along the ridge of the old quarry. She kept to the grass line, picking her steps carefully. Martha kept in step with her.
“Goldie, come,” Grace said every few feet and then listened for the whimpering and the bell.
They stopped.
“Martha,” she said, “what do you see? Do you see Goldie?”
Martha was surprised to find she still had her eyes closed! She blinked them open and said, “Oh, gosh, we’re right at the edge of the quarry. The fog isn’t too bad here but I don’t see Goldie.”
“Lay down on your belly and look over the edge,” Grace told her. “It sounds like we are right next to the sound. Listen. Goldie, come.”
“She’s there,” Martha called from the ground. “She’s on a small ledge. There’s blood on her. She sees me. Her tail is wagging like crazy!”
“I’ve heard the grown-ups talk about trails in and out of the quarry,” Grace mused. “Do you see a way down to her?”
“No,” Martha said. “No, wait. There is one that stops just above her.”
The girls held hands again and slowly made their way down the old quarry path until it stopped short of where the ledge was.
“Goldie, come,” Grace said. Goldie shook her head and whimpered.
“What is wrapped around her nose?” Martha asked.
“You’re asking me?” she teased Martha” You’re the one with the good eyeballs. What is it?”
“It’s the macaroni necklace,” Martha quietly said. “Mine.”
“Goldie, come,” Grace Said again. “I hear her whimpering and the necklace bells but why doesn’t she come up here?”
“She’s sitting with her paw up,” Martha said. “Her nose is bleeding and her paws too.
Grace laid on her belly and poked her cane down toward the ledge.
“It is an arm’s length more than your cane,” Martha said.
“I’m going down next to her. I’ll push her up to you,” Grace said.
Before Martha could say anything, Grace had felt along the quarry wall and was next to her puppy.
Grace felt Goldie’s wet muzzle. She unwound the necklace and threw it into the quarry. Goldie’s lips began to bleed again but she showed her delight by sliming Grace with kisses.
Goldie refused to put weight on one of her back paws and one of her front paws.
“She’s too heavy for me to push up to you,” Grace said. “I have an idea. Can you come down here with me?”
“If you can do it, I can do it, too,” Martha said.
The adults had come down for breakfast and saw the girls were gone. They thought they were playing with Goldie outside.
“I’ll call the girls in for breakfast,” Grace’s Mom said, placing a platter of scrambled eggs and crisp bacon with a basket of buttermilk biscuits on the table.
When there was no answer to her call she said, “It is not like Grace to go so far from the house that she can’t hear my call.”
Grace’s Dad decided he’d best look for the girls before breakfast. He and Martha’s Dad walked all over the yard, not finding a sign of them.
“You don’t suppose they’ve gone exploring in the quarry, do you?” Grace’s Dad wondered.
When they came near the edge of the meadow where the rocks began to show, they stopped dead in their tracks.
The girls were just getting to the top of the old trail, lugging a sack of something between them.
Goldie had been too heavy for Grace to push up to Martha, so, they’d put her in Grace’s over-sized sleep shirt. Then, the girls were able to get a firm hold of the shirt and heft her up the trail.
Goldie’s tail had slipped out the neck-hole and her back legs poked through the sleeves, but she hadn’t fallen out.
The Dads stared in awe and amusement. The girls refused their help. Goldie rode like a queen between her two favorite subjects.
Once back in the kitchen, Grace’s Dad thoroughly checked over Goldie.
“She has only sprained her paws,” He said. “I think she must have landed on the ledge pretty hard. That’s why her nose bled, too. She must have cut her paws when she tried to scramble up off the ledge. The string had cut into her lips when she tried to work it off. I can’t imagine how she got that necklace.”
“She liked it,” Martha said in a shaking voice. “So I put it around her neck.” Then, with tears in her eyes, Martha told everyone what had happened. “I’m sorry, Grace, I didn’t mean to hurt Goldie.”
Grace and Martha gently gave Goldie a bath. She was soon fast asleep under a blanket of sun in front of the window seat. One girl sat on each side of her petting her soft, tan fur. The grown-ups looked over occasionally as they finished their coffee.
Grace remembered her box of macaroni, bells and buttons. It was still on the window seat.
“Martha,” she said, “I’m sorry I threw the other necklace into the quarry. Do you want another one?”
“And I’ll make one for you,” Martha said nodding her head.
The time for saying good-bye came too quickly. Everyone hugged and kissed everyone. Grace felt child-sized arms around her.
“I’ll write to you,” Grace said, hugging Martha.
“If you can’t see,” Martha asked, “how can you?”
“I’ll use my talking computer and print it out, silly,” Grace laughed.
“Mom,” Martha asked as they held hands walking to the car, “can I learn braille so I can write to Grace?”
“Mom,” Grace said as she heard the sound of the tires crunching on the gravel fade away. “I always knew I had a cousin, but now I know I have a new friend, too.”