Whispering Hope (4 page)

S
cratched again!” Skye said after her cue ball dropped in a side pocket of the pool table.

“I’ll never be as good as Chad—or
her
—at this game,” Skye lamented.

Morgan sat at a computer playing her favorite online game, “Battleship,” with someone from Spain. “This is too cool,” she said. “This kid’s in tenth grade too, and he’s learning English. His name is Francisco.” Morgan paused and then said, “What was that, Skye? You’ll never get as good as who?”

“Wanda.” Skye mounted her cue stick in a wall rack and sat next to Morgan. “It’s useless.”

“Skye, she’s been playing for years,” Morgan said. “So what’s the big deal anyway? You can run circles around her when it comes to horses, or homework, or just being a decent human being. All she’s got going for her is a good game of pool.”

“Chad can shoot real good too,” Skye said.

Morgan relaxed into her wheelchair and turned toward Skye. “Ah ha, I knew it. You’re worried about her moving in on him, aren’t you?”

Without an answer, Skye looked at her monitor and turned on her computer.

Morgan tapped Skye on the shoulder. “Hey,” she said.

Skye looked at her foster sister and figured it was time for a sisterly chat.
Morgan’s so good at these things,
she thought. “Oh, all right. Yes, I am worried.”

“Thought so.” Morgan nodded and her freckled face lit up with an understanding smile. “Skye, you know exactly what Mrs. C. would say if you were having this conversation with her, don’t you?”

“Yes-s-s.” Skye ran her fingers through her hair and turned back to the computer. She loaded a dirt bike racing game and worked the controls.

“You’re way too young to date, and so is Chad. He’s not your territory. And besides, God has your future—and your love life—all planned out.”

“I know,” Skye said. “It’s really stupid to feel this way, and I think I need God to help me with this mess. But Chad and I are such good friends. I don’t want anything, or anyone, to spoil it.”

“Nothing’s going to spoil it.” Morgan said. “And you don’t need to worry about Wanda. I’m sure Chad’s not interested in her—she’s not his type. Give me a break.”

“I know that he wants a nice Christian girl,” Skye said. “He told me that once.”

“Well, need I say more?”

“When I look at Wanda, I can’t believe that I was like that once.”

“I don’t think I was that bad,” Morgan said, “but it’s only because of God that I’m where I am today.”

“Did you know Wanda smokes?” Skye asked. “One day last week I saw her throwing a cigarette butt in the yard when she came out of the barn. She’d better be careful around all that hay.”

“Yeah, I can smell smoke on her. Yesterday I went into the bathroom right after she came out, and it smelled like a tobacco factory in there.”

“Do you think Mom and Dad know she’s smoking?”

“What do you think?”

Skye rolled her eyes. “Nothing gets past them.”

“I’m sure Mrs. C. is counseling Wanda about all this stuff. But nothing’s going to change overnight.”

“Speaking of overnight,” Skye said, “I thought I heard some strange noises a few nights since Wanda moved in. Do you think she prowls around when we’re all asleep? I bet she’s using the phone to call her gang in Harrisburg.”

“With her room at the other end of the hall, I haven’t heard much,” Morgan said. “But I heard Mrs. C. talking to her one day about Wanda not sleeping in her own bedroom.”

“What? Where’s she sleeping?”

“Believe it or not, either in the hayloft in the barn or here on the pool table.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. Who wouldn’t want to sleep in a nice soft bed? That is weird.”

“I have a feeling that Wanda’s had it pretty rough. Who knows? Maybe she doesn’t even have a bed at home. Remember, she’s been running with a gang for years. She’s probably used to sleeping on the floor more than on a bed. And I heard Mrs. C. talking to Wanda about some bad dreams Wanda was having. So there must be something going on there that we don’t know about.”

“When you think about that, it’s really sad. She’d almost be pretty if she’d clean up her act. I’ve never seen such long curly eyelashes before. I wonder if anything or anyone will ever convince her to change.”

“God can,” Morgan said. “But we’ve got to be willing to do our part. We need to just try to help her. She needs Jesus in her life before anything else starts to change.”

“Even though I don’t like her, I’d really like to help her, if she’d just listen to some advice. We’ve been where she is. But for now, I guess the best thing we can do is stay out of her way.”

“Sooner or later, Skye, she’ll realize that she needs a friend—a real friend. That’s when we need to be ready to be one.”

“I’d like to be there for her when that day comes,” Skye said. “I really would.”

“Me, too,” Morgan said, backing her wheelchair away from the computer and glancing at her watch. “Well, I think it’s time to get supper ready. Mrs. C. should be here any minute.”

Skye glanced at her watch. “Wow, I didn’t realize it was so late. If you want to toss the salad, I’ll stir-fry the chicken. We’ll have the stuff ready in the shake of a horse’s tail.”

“Not Rebel’s.” Morgan laughed. “He’s too stubborn.”

“Girls,” Mr. Chambers said as he wiped his mustache with a napkin, “this supper is terrific. You’re getting better in the kitchen every day.”

The three girls sat with Mr. and Mrs. Chambers at the dining room table enjoying teenage gourmet cooking. Tippy and Tyler found their usual place on the floor, one on each side of Mrs. Chambers’ chair. The topics of conversation varied as much as the colors of the rain-bow. Everyone joined in except Wanda, who barely ate anything and played with her food. Her answers were curt when anyone directed a question her way. With her bedraggled hair making its own statement, she crouched in her chair and didn’t crack a smile.

“I almost burned the chicken, Dad,” Skye said. “It’s a good thing Morgan was there to keep me focused.”

“Were you staring out the window at the horses?” Mrs. Chambers asked. “I know where your heart is.”

“Guilty, your honoress.” Skye giggled. “Morgan’s the cook, I’m the equestrian, and Wanda’s the pool shark.”

“Even pool sharks have to eat,” Mr. Chambers said. Everyone laughed but Wanda.

Mr. Chambers took one last bite of his tossed salad. “Now don’t forget, girls, that next week we have special meetings at church from Monday to Wednesday. Our missions conference starts on Sunday.”

When the subject of church and God came up, Wanda slid down further into her chair.

“Oh, I did forget,” Skye said.

“Me too,” said Morgan. “I can’t wait to see the slides of South Africa.”

Without looking up, Wanda spouted out, “What—is a missions conference?”

Mrs. Chambers took a sip of water. “Wanda.”

I know she’s waiting for Wanda to look at her,
Skye thought.

Silence.

Finally, Wanda looked at Mrs. Chambers.

“It’s a series of meetings we have in our church every year that keeps us, the members of the church, informed about the work our missionaries are doing all around the world. Missionaries are really like pastors, but they serve mostly in other countries.”

Wanda scrunched up her face and folded her arms. “How exciting,” she sneered. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Sorry, Wanda,” Mr. Chambers said. “We’ll all be there, every night. You might be surprised at what you learn about how people live in other parts of the world. God’s been so good to us here in this country. So many folks in other places have almost nothing.”

“I ain’t never had it so good,” Wanda said. “When Pop got sent up and Mom died, I had to live with Gram. She’s always been sick. That’s how good that God of yours has been to me.”

“Wanda,” Mrs. Chambers said, “God is just waiting to bless your life, but you’re fighting him.”

“I don’t need no God that would let my mother die.”

“At least you know where your parents are,” Skye said with kind intent. “I don’t have a clue where mine are.”

Wanda gave Skye another strange look, almost as if she was genuinely interested in what Skye was saying.

Maybe she’s starting to listen,
Skye thought.
Just maybe.

“Wanda, we’d like to discuss something that affects the whole family,” Mrs. Chambers said.

Wanda took her good old time looking at Mrs. Chambers. “What?” she snapped.

“Mr. Chambers and I feel it’s not safe for you to be sleeping in the barn, especially with your smoking habit.”

The expression on Wanda’s face turned to pure shock. Skye placed a safe bet that Wanda was thinking,
How’d they know?

Mr. Chambers added, “And, yes, we’ve known from the beginning that you’ve been sneaking to the barn or down to the game room to sleep, then sneaking back to your bedroom right before we all get up.”

While Skye worked at her food, her glance darted around the table like she was watching a ping-pong game. Morgan did the same.

“Wanda, dear, there’s no need for you to be sneaking around,” Mrs. Chambers said. “If you’re uncomfortable sleeping in your bedroom, we can accommodate you, at least for a little while.”

“That’s right,” Mr. Chambers said, and then he sipped his drink. “We have a futon stored in my shop downstairs. We’ll move that into the game room if you’d like. There’s a place for it in the corner next to the computers.”

“All we ask is that you keep that corner neat and you don’t try to sleep when we have the Youth for Truth kids here on game night,” Mrs. Chambers said.

Everyone burst into laughter except Wanda, but this time Skye detected the slightest hint of a smile on Wanda’s face.

“So,” Mr. Chambers said, “Can we have your word of honor that you’ll not sneak to the barn anymore?”

Wanda said nothing and stared at her plate still halffull of food.

Mrs. Chambers finished her drink. “Wanda, our family, the one you are part of for the next year, discusses everything. Our love for one another is built on trust. If you don’t like something, tell us about it. We want to help you and we want you to feel like part of this family.” Mrs. Chambers reached and touched Wanda’s hand. “We love you.”

Although Wanda abruptly pulled away without a word, she stared into Mrs. Chambers’ eyes as if she were thinking,
Is she for real?

“Yes, she’s for real,” Skye said.

“And about the cigarettes,” Mr. Chambers said. “We’d appreciate your turning all of them into us like you were supposed to when you first came. With God’s help, and ours, you can kick that habit before it takes a good hold of your system.”

“And now is as good a time as any.” Mrs. Chambers smiled at Wanda. “Come on. I’ll escort you to your room and we can have ourselves a little hunt.”

“Tsk,” Wanda said. She pushed away from the table and trudged back down the hallway like a prisoner on her way to the gallows.

When Wanda was out of earshot, Morgan whispered, “Mr. C., she’s not going to give them up that easily.”

Skye added, “When Mom’s not watching her at Maranatha, she can get a fresh supply from the other kids.”

“We know,” Mr. Chambers said. “We know.”

E
asy, Rebel!” Chad said, trying to calm down the wild Mustang in the training corral the next Saturday. As usual, when either Chad or Skye worked the horse, Rebel would allow them to get only within inches of his muzzle, and then he’d balk.

Skye stood outside the corral, watching the progress, or lack of it. “He’s one stubborn mule, isn’t he, Chad?”

“You can say that again.” Chad slipped out of the corral between the rails and joined Skye, who had crossed her arms on the top rail of the fence.

“He must have been abused awfully bad,” Skye said. “But he’ll come around. I just know it.”

“Patience and tough love, my dear.” Chad gave Skye his best dimpled smile.

Skye gulped and her heart did back flips.
He called me “dear.”
She gave Chad a return smile and then glanced at her watch. “It’s two o’clock already. We’ve been out here over an hour, and nothing’s happened yet. It’s been two weeks since we started.”

“Speaking of nothing happening,” Chad said, “how’s Wanda, the other rebel, doing?”

“Why do you ask?” Skye said.
Yes, why would you ask about her, Chad Dressler!

“Just curious,” Chad said. “A few of us Youth for Truth kids are praying for her.”

Skye leaned her chin on her arm and stared at Rebel, who was, as usual, facing in the opposite direction. “Not much better, I guess. She won’t talk to me unless it’s a slam. Her favorite name for me is ‘horse breath.’ Sheesh! She hangs out at the pool table all the time, and she even sleeps in the game room. If Mom would let Wanda eat there, she’d never come out. Really strange.”

“I saw that futon next to the computers and wondered about it,” Chad said.

“That futon is right underneath my bedroom, and you should hear the way she yells in her sleep. She has really bad nightmares, and that’s probably why she won’t sleep in her bedroom. It’s right next to Mom’s and Dad’s room, and she doesn’t want them to hear her carrying on.”

“Who knows what might have happened to her when she was a little kid,” Chad said. “Do you know why her father’s in prison?”

“Nope. She won’t talk about it. At least, not with me. She won’t talk about anything with me.”

“How’s she doing with her smoking?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t smelled any smoke on her lately, and I haven’t seen any butts lying around anywhere, but she’s street smart. She could be stashing them anywhere.”

“Patience and tough love, my dear.”

Dear? Twice in one day.
Chad’s smile sent Skye’s heart into another aerobic routine.

“How’s Rebel doing?” Mrs. Chambers asked, coming up behind Skye and Chad.

“No breakthrough yet, Mom.” Skye turned toward Mrs. Chambers and saw Wanda standing right beside her.

“Hi, Wanda,” Skye said.

As usual, Wanda donned her ball cap and same old clothes. But instead of her high top sneakers, Wanda was wearing riding boots.

Wanda barely glanced at Skye and said nothing.

Chad squared his Stetson. “Mrs. C., Sooner or later, Rebel’s got to realize that we want to help him, not hurt him,” he said and then added, “Howdy, Wanda.”

“So, Wanda,” Skye said staring at Wanda’s boots, “I see your tootsies have a new wardrobe. That can only mean one thing: it’s your big day to ride a horse.”

“Whatever,” Wanda grumbled, hanging her thumbs on her jean pockets and masquerading
tough.
“I rode horses lots when I was a kid.”

Well, that’s a barefaced lie,
Skye thought.
She’s just saying that to impress Chad.

“So, you’ve ridden horses before, Wanda? How interesting,” Chad said, giving Skye a quick wink.

Skye slipped out a sly smile then studied Wanda, noting an air of nervousness that oozed out all over, no matter how cool the girl tried to be. “I remember my first ride on Champ,” Skye said, “and I was shaking in
my
boots until I realized how gorgeous and well-trained he was.”

Mrs. Chambers beamed with obvious delight over Wanda’s progress. “I think Wanda’s ready to take that big step. She’s already had a handful of lessons on grooming, tacking, and leading a horse. And she hasn’t done half bad for someone who says she hates horses. Wanda, stay here, and I’ll go get Lucy.”

“You’ll do great,” Chad said to Wanda. “Just let the horse teach you. Lucy’s got years of experience under her cinch, so it should be a cinch!”

Skye giggled, but Wanda folded her arms and just stared at Chad.

As Mrs. Chambers led Lucy out of the barn, Skye again studied Wanda’s face, which almost seemed to light
up at the sight of the horse.
I think she really does want to ride, but she’s too stubborn to admit it.

“Wanda and I are going into the pasture,” Mrs. Chambers said to Skye and Chad. “You two may carry on your work with Rebel. I don’t think we’ll get in each other’s way.”

“Okay, Mom,” Skye said as Chad slipped into the corral with Rebel. “We’ll stay out of your horsehair, if you’ll stay out of ours.”

Everyone laughed but Wanda.

Skye woke up in the middle of the night with her mouth as dry as a ball of cotton. She rolled over and glanced at her clock’s bold red numbers. “Two thirty,” she moaned to herself. “I gotta have a drink.”

Struggling to stay awake, she forced herself out of bed and slouched her way toward her bedroom door. As she glanced at the mirror, a bright light jabbed at her sleepy eyes. She rubbed them and looked again, then turned quickly toward the window. Her gaze drifted outside, down past the yard and to the barn, where billows of smoke and a geyser of orange flames were erupting out of the one corner of the hayloft.

“Oh, no!” she yelled. “The barn’s on fire!” She charged out of her room to Mr. and Mrs. Chambers’ door and pounded so hard the whole wall shook. “Mom, Dad! The barn’s on fire! I’ll call 911!”

“What?” Mrs. Chambers mumbled.

“The barn’s on fire!” Skye screamed. “We’ve got to get the horses out!” She raced into the dining room and made the emergency call with her trembling hands barely able to hold the phone.

Mr. Chambers shot out of his room, still slipping into his shirt and buckling his belt. Mrs. Chambers
followed right on his heels, yanking a sweatshirt over her disheveled hair. Both bore expressions of panic, the likes of which Skye had never seen before. Mr. Chambers charged out of the sliding glass door and sprinted toward the barn.

Grasping the door, Mrs. Chambers paused. “Skye, tell Morgan to stay in the house. Oh, and go down and get Wanda. She can help. Hurry.”

Skye ran back the hall, banged on Morgan’s door and burst into the room.

Morgan had already sat up and had turned on her light. “Skye!” A look of horror masked her face.

“Mom wants you to stay in the house,” Skye ordered as she turned to leave. “Just pray.”

Skye raced back into her room, tugged on her jeans and boots and scrambled toward the basement. She flipped on the light and hurried down the stairs two, three at a time. “Wanda!” she screamed, but Wanda was not there—and her bed was neatly made.

Skye tore out of the basement and ran as fast as her legs could go toward the barn.

Thick smoke billowed from the second floor where hay bales were stored, and flames licked boards around an open window. Mr. Chambers was desperately wielding water from a garden hose at the angry flames.

Hooves pounding the ground, Lucy bolted out of the barn. Ears plastered against her head and nostrils flaring, she ran past Skye, off into the cool dark of the night.

“Skye!” Mr. Chambers yelled. “Get the horses out!”

“Skye, in here!” Mrs. Chambers called. “Help me open these stalls and the horses will run out on their own!”

Skye darted into the barn filled with white smoke that was growing denser. Lungs burning with what she had already inhaled, she held her breath as long as she could, but her body soon demanded more air. Pressing her nose against her arm, she noticed that the lights were
on. Through the swirling white film, Skye could see Mrs. Chambers moving quickly at the other end of the barn.

Skye ran toward Mrs. Chambers who was coughing and opening Rebel’s stall. With a horse’s natural fear of fire, Rebel needed no prodding. Releasing high-pitched squeals, he barreled out of the doorway, nearly trampling Skye on his way out.

In the distance, blaring sirens brought help closer and closer. Skye only prayed it wasn’t too late.

Skye’s lungs felt like she had breathed in the fire itself, and her eyes burned as she ran to Champ’s stall, fumbled with the latch, and yanked open both Dutch doors. “Easy, Champ,” she coughed as he nickered and pranced. She grabbed his halter and led him out of the stall toward the open doorway. “Go on, boy,” she coughed, slapping him on his rump. “You’re okay. Now go.”

As though charging out of a starting gate at a racetrack, Champ took off.

Skye and Mrs. Chambers released the remaining four horses that raced out of the barn. Nose buried in her arm, Mrs. Chambers quickly surveyed the situation, and Skye did the same. Although smoke had penetrated the entire ground floor of the barn, Skye couldn’t see any flames through her stinging, watery eyes.

“C’mon.” Coughing, Mrs. Chambers started running toward the door. “We need to get some fresh air.”

Skye followed Mrs. Chambers outside just as two screaming fire engines, a tanker, and an ambulance, all with flashing lights, barreled down the driveway and pulled a short distance from the barn. The trucks and their commotion lit up the place like a firemen’s carnival. As far as Skye could tell, about ten firemen scrambled from the trucks and started their assigned tasks.

Moving to the far side of the barn, Mr. Chambers continued to spray water on the fire. “I think it just started!” he yelled to anyone who would listen.

“Is there anyone in the barn?” one fireman yelled.

“No!” Mr. Chambers yelled. “We just got all the horses out!”

Another fireman asked, “Do you have a pond on your property?”

“Yes,” Mr. Chambers answered, “at the bottom of the fenced-in pasture.”

“Freeburg’s trucks should be here any sec,” the fireman said. “Open your gate so their tanker can fill up.”

Mr. Chambers dropped the hose and raced toward the gate.

Skye stared at the scene while two men quickly slid a large plastic holding tank off the truck and started pumping water from the tanker into it. One fireman grabbed some kind of line or hose from another truck and pulled it to the plastic tank where he plugged it in. Two other men shoulder-loaded a hose from the first truck and stretched it the length of the barn. A pair of men from another truck donned breathing apparatus, grabbed fire extinguishers and hatchets, and started toward the barn.

The men with the outstretched hose started spraying water on the flames in the loft while two men from the second truck prepped their hose.

Still coughing, Skye watched the firemen perform their duties with the precision that only drill after drill had produced. Every man knew exactly what to do to put out the fire and save the barn from total destruction.

Out of the ambulance hopped two EMTs. Carrying small cases, they rushed toward Mrs. Chambers and Skye. “Are you all right?” asked a chubby female in a navy blue uniform.

Mrs. Chambers gestured toward Skye and spoke through a series of coughs. “We…got our lungs full of smoke, but we’re okay. Just let us…catch our breath.”

“Do you need any oxygen?” a tall, thin EMT with a beard asked.

“I think…we’re okay,” Skye managed to say. “We were in the barn…just long enough to get the horses out.”

Gasping, Mr. Chambers joined the group while his glare never left the barn.

“Sir,” the male EMT asked Mr. Chambers, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Mr. Chambers said. “I didn’t breathe in any smoke…I’m just winded.”

With blasting sirens and flashing lights, three more fire trucks and another ambulance barreled down the driveway. They clattered to the far side of the barn and pulled to a screeching halt. One busy fireman in front of the barn ran to the tanker and shouted something to the driver. As the firemen hopped off the engines, the tanker backed up, maneuvered around the other trucks, and headed toward the pond.

Mrs. Chambers grabbed Skye by both shoulders and glared into her face. “Skye…where’s Wanda?”

Skye’s eyes grew as round as saucers. “Mom…I completely forgot to tell you…she wasn’t in her bed.” She then pointed at the barn. “She might be in there!”

“Wan-da!” Mrs. Chambers screamed and started running toward the barn, but Mr. Chambers grabbed her arm and stopped her. “You stay here!” he yelled. “I’ll go in.”

“You can’t go in there!” an EMT yelled.

“I have to,” he said. “One of our girls is in there!”

Mr. Chambers ran to a firemen gearing up and told him about Wanda.

“Mike!” the fireman yelled back to the hosemen. “There might be a kid in there. We’re going in.”

“Okay,” one said. Turning his water on, he and his partner streamed a second powerful surge of water into the barn’s loft.

Skye and Mrs. Chambers stood clearing their lungs and watching while Mr. Chambers followed the firemen into the barn. Skye glanced back at the house and saw
Morgan and two dogs looking out the sliding glass door. Flames from the fire and the flashing lights lit up the entire Keystone Stables yard. Skye took a quick count to make sure that all the horses were safe. All six had settled a comfortable distance from the fire and were indulging in an early morning snack of dewy grass.

Into the driveway pulled a pick-up truck that Skye knew belonged to their next-door neighbor, Mr. Garside. Just seconds behind, two other cars also pulled in. Mr. Garside jumped out of the truck and came running toward the group. The drivers of the other cars, also neighbors, came running.

“I heard the sirens!” Mr. Garside yelled with excitement. A John Deere ball cap fit snuggly on his gray head, and his plump, tanned face beaded with perspiration. “It looks like they got here in time.”

“This is not a night to sleep soundly,” another neighbor said, forcing out a laugh.

“Can we do anything to help?” the third man asked.

“One of our girls might be in there.” Mrs. Chambers’ voice quivered as she wiped a barrage of tears from her face and tried to clear her lungs. “She likes to sleep in the barn.”