Page 72 of All We Thought We Knew
“How is the platform for Fred coming along?” Dad lingered over his coffee, a sure sign he had something on his mind.
“Good,” Nash said. “We finished the main structure. Today we need to figure out how steep to make the ramp. It will need rails for safety, too.”
Nash and I spent three afternoons together in the hay barn working on the project, taking a prerequisite rest on Sunday at Mama’s insistence. I hadn’t had a clue where to begin, but somehow Nash knew intuitively what to do. I helped him cut lumber into pieces and held them in place while he hammered nails into them, enjoying easy conversation as we worked side by side. Every so often I’d run across the yard to the house to check on Mama. “We make a good team,” Nash said at the end of the first day. The comment pleased me.
Dad sipped his coffee, his eyes squinted over the steam. “You will need to get Dawn’s Rose used to someone mounting her from the platform. When will Fred come to the farm?”
“I told him we’d try for Saturday, if the weather holds.” Nash smiled. “Mrs. Graham said Fred has started doing his exercises again, working on his upper body and core strength. He hasn’t done them since he got out of the hospital.”
“Good,” Dad said. “Balance and strength will be important if he is to be successful.” He glanced at me. “I’ll stay with your mother after Nurse Bradford leaves so you can help Nash finish the platform.”
With plans for the day set in place, the men headed out to do chores while I tidied things up and checked on Mama.
Laughter greeted me when I reached the upstairs landing.
“I could never keep up with those two.” Mama’s voice, weak but clear, came from the room. “Twins have such a special connection, and they outwitted me more times than I can count.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from chuckling.
It was true. Mark and I nearly always knew what the other was thinking. We communicated with our eyes and hands when we didn’t want anyone else to know what we were talking about. Unsuspecting teachers at school were unaware of the silent conversations we had from across the room.
“My mother was a twin,” Nurse Bradford said. “Sadly, her sisterwas stillborn. Mother often talks about how much she misses her sister, even though she never knew her.”
A lump formed in my throat.
I knew the feeling of loneliness for my twin. Nurse Bradford was wrong though. Her mother and her twin had definitely known each other the months they were in the womb.
I moved into the room. Mama’s eyes brightened when she saw me.
“Mattie, I was hoping you’d come see me before you went out to help Nash.”
Nurse Bradford rose from where she was seated in a chair next to Mama’s bed. “I think I’ll get a cup of coffee while you ladies chat. Ava, can I bring you a soft-boiled egg when I come back?”
Mama grimaced. “I don’t think so. Maybe just some hot cocoa to warm me up.”
The nurse left us alone. Mama studied my face.
“You look more rested than you have since you got home.”
I settled in the chair after Nurse Bradford vacated it. “I’ve slept better the last couple nights.”
A gentle smile lifted the edges of her mouth. “I’m glad. Now tell me about the platform for Fred. When will it be ready?”
I attempted to describe the structure we’d built, adding that it still needed a ramp with rails. “All in all, I think it’s going to work. We’ll know Saturday, anyway.”
She reached a hand toward me, and I grasped it. Her fingers weakly squeezed mine.
“I’m so proud of you, Mattie.” Tears filled her eyes. “I know how strongly you feel about the war, yet what you’re doing for Fred...” Her chin trembled. “Mark would be proud of you too.”
I fought to maintain control of my emotions. When I felt I could speak without bursting into sobs, I said, “Fred and Mark and even Nash are victims of the war. I may not agree with their decision to go to Vietnam, but they don’t deserve my hatred. Oranyone else’s, for that matter.” I sighed. “I felt so sorry for Fred, you know. He’ll never walk again. You should have heard him talking about riding horses when he was growing up. If we can get him in the saddle, I’m hopeful we can have him riding again.”
“That’s my girl. You’ve never been one to quit once your mind is made up.”
Mama wanted to know which horse we planned to use with Fred, how we’d keep him in the saddle, and so on.
“I wish I could be there to help,” she said, her eyes drooping. “LuAnn mentioned that she’s heard of using horses for therapy with people with disabilities, although she’s never seen it done.”
“Really? I didn’t know it was a thing.”
