On the Victory Trail Read online

  “Kenny, my man!” Sooze yelled, forcing her tired body toward the voice.

  Skye squinted from the shade of her hat. She strained to focus on a ­couple of teenagers, one she didn’t know. Beside the stranger stood a lanky boy who wore a green baseball cap flipped backward, a black T-shirt, and baggy jeans.

  Kenny Hartzell! Skye remembered him all too well. What’s he doing here?

  As Sooze approached Kenny, his tattooed arms stretched to greet her with a high-five. Skye stepped for-ward and offered her own palms reluctantly.

  “Hey, what’s happening?” Sooze asked.

  “This is awesome seeing you guys again,” Kenny said.

  “You better believe it,” Sooze said, her thumbs already up. She looked behind her as if she were hiding something.

  Skye squared her hat smartly over her eyebrows and stared at Kenny. “How did you get out of Chesterfield? Weren’t you supposed to be there for eighteen months?”

  “Hey, I know how to buck the system.” Kenny pointed to himself with his thumb. “I walked the line, and they let me out early. Simple as pie.” His braces displayed a deceptive smile, and then he looked to the girl standing to his left.

  “This is Tanya Bell,” Kenny said. “She’s from Philly.”

  Skye studied the girl who stood half a head taller than Kenny. Her smooth face boasted two rows of per-fect teeth and dimples that exploded when she smiled. A red-and-white tank top and jean shorts hugged her shapely body, and her gazelle legs stood posed in high-heeled sandals. She easily could have passed for a model. She cradled an orange and white teddy bear at least half her size in one arm.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Sooze said to the girl.

  “Tanya? Cool,” Skye said. “What brings you to Snyder County? I mean, this is horse country — a long way from the big city. The closest we get to excitement is watching the sun go down.”

  “This is my sixth summer at the fair,” Tanya said. “When I was younger, I visited some cousins who lived near here. I don’t know,” she said resting her free hand on her hip, “I just like it here. Things slow down just enough to let me think. I met Kenny last summer, and we’ve been friends ever since.”

  “Yeah,” Kenny added, “real good friends. She stays with some ­people that live a few doors down from us.

  “Awesome,” Sooze said.

  “Yeah,” Skye said, looking at her watch. “Sooze, we’ve gotta go now.”

  “What’s up?” Kenny asked. “Hey, that’s right! You two are foster kids now. And you’re hanging out at the same house. Does ‘mommy’ want you home?” he teased.

  “You guys aren’t serious,” Tanya laughed. “You actually have rules that you have to follow?”

  “They aren’t that bad,” Skye said.

  Sooze interrupted. “Kenny, did you know I have a brain tumor?”

  “You’re joking. For real?” he answered.

  “Yeah, I’ve had chemo and everything,” Sooze started to explain. “This is a wig I’m — ”

  “Do you two want a smoke?” Kenny interrupted.

  “Sure,” Sooze said. “I’m dying for one. It’s been forever.”

  “Skye?” he asked.

  “Ah — ” Skye folded her arms.

  Sooze rammed Skye with her elbow. “What’s the matter with you? Our prison wardens aren’t anywhere around. Go on. Relax and enjoy yourself.”

  “Nah,” Skye said. “I don’t even miss it.”

  “Maybe you farmers don’t know how to have a good time!” Tanya laughed.

  “Come on,” Sooze said sharply to Skye. “Just like old times.”

  Kenny stepped backward, pulling out a bulging, gray backpack from behind a large tree. “I got something we can all enjoy in this heat.” He opened the flap, pulled out a can of beer, and handed it to Tanya.

  “Sooze,” he said, pulling out another and tossing it to her.

  She popped the seal and took a long guzzle.

  “Skye,” he said, flipping another can into her unsuspecting arms.

  Skye juggled it, barely saving it from landing on the ground.

  “C’mon girl!” Tanya taunted.

  Skye reluctantly popped the tab and took a mouthful. As soon as Skye swallowed, her whole body cringed with a feeling she couldn’t explain. Her mind brought her a wave of strange, new guilt.

  “After you accept Christ, God is with you all the time,” Dad Chambers had said in devotions a few weeks ago. “He is there to help you make the right choices. When you sin, you grieve the Lord, and you’ll feel terrible.”

  Skye’s stomach recoiled as if she had been kicked by a horse, and she stiffened in shame. A Bible verse from Pastor Newman’s last sermon swept through her mind, haunting her with a new realization: Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!

  She was no longer the same person she had been before becoming a Chris­tian. A wave of nausea swept over her, and her eyes searched desperately for a garbage can to throw away the beer.

  This is so not fun, Skye thought, her stomach churning. “Hey, you guys — ”

  “Skye Nicholson!”

  Like a carefully aimed bullet, the voice shot through the air, down the walkway, and hit Skye right in the middle of her unsuspecting back. Suddenly, she felt sick for two reasons. It was a familiar voice. A very familiar voice.

  chapter eleven

  Sooze wasn’t the only one to be grounded. Back home, Mrs. Chambers’ blue eyes flashed during their emergency family conference.

  “It’s very interesting what the Lord allowed me to see,” Mrs. C. said. “I walked out of the administration office after finishing some horse business and — bam! — there you two were under the trees. I certainly wasn’t spying on you. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time.”

  Skye thought she’d die from the punishment of not seeing Champ for two weeks. She loved riding him, especially during the summer months. Worse than that, she had other feelings to deal with. She felt dirty inside; she had disappointed God. For days, she moped around the house while Sooze made light of their predicament and schemed her next move. Not until Skye, in the privacy of her bedroom, asked God to forgive her did she even come close to feeling right again. This being-a-Christian thing was serious business, and she had found out the hard way.

  September came and with it Skye’s freedom, and the excitement of a new year at Madison Middle School. She also found herself more excited about spiritual things, soaking up Pastor Newman’s sermons and Mr. Chambers’ devotions. She read her own Bible and prayed every morning before facing the day and had a new determination to live for the Lord. She was also growing in her confidence to face any challenge because she and God were going to school arm in arm.

  Skye saw Sooze very little during the day, not only because they shared no classes, but also because Skye had new interests. The old temptations were still there, but now she was making new friends, especially in the youth group, and she had even decided to join a few clubs. At home, Skye did spend time with Sooze, mostly to help her with her homework and to support her through her declining health and medical treatments.

  October in Pennsylvania brought crystal blue skies and rolling hills blanketed with palettes of brilliant colors. With the fall youth retreat only a day away, Skye and Sooze rode their horses to Piney Hollow after school to help Mr. Chambers clean up. He was busy cutting the weeds around the campsite when Skye and Sooze rode up to join him.

  “Hi, girls,” Mr. Chambers said, turning off the mower and wiping his forehead. “What a beautiful day to work outside. This nice breeze is just right to cool off a hot cowboy. Thanks for volunteering to help me get this place in shape.”

  “Did we have a choice?” Skye giggled. She patted Champ and looked around at the blazing fall colors. “Just kidding.”

  “I’m too tired,” Sooze said.

  “And I don’t think she’s kidding,” Skye added.

  Mr. Chambers bent down and checked
the gas level of the lawn mower. “Sooze, I know you have very little energy because of your treatments. I don’t expect you to do much here. Just hand Skye the things she needs while she scrubs out the chuck wagon. You can give her moral support. Tie Champ and Pepsi in the shade over there. We have a lot of work to do.”

  The girls maneuvered their horses to a hitching post under the large scrub pines.

  “Man, I hate to clean,” Skye said to Sooze, “but this kind of cleaning isn’t bad, out in the open and around the horses. Why don’t you just sit and watch and keep me company. I can tell you’re feeling pretty bad.”

  Skye dismounted and tied Champ to the railing. Leaning against the post, she slipped off her hard hat. Sooze slipped off hers as well. From a saddlebag, she pulled a red base-ball cap to cover her bald head. She moved like she had cement in her boots, and even the simple task of securing Pepsi’s reins was a struggle. Her body was bloated from the steroids that were meant to build up her strength.

  “I only threw up once this morning,” she said with a heavy breath. “It’s been almost a week since my last chemo.”

  Skye balanced her hat on the saddle’s horn and tied her hair into a ponytail. “You sure don’t look like yourself. But I guess the steroids do help give you a little energy, don’t they?”

  “Yeah, about two ounces worth — one for each little finger,” Sooze tried to joke.

  “Well, I guess even that little bit helps.”

  Skye walked to the truck bed, where she filled two buckets with hot water from a large container. She poured Lysol into one bucket and grabbed a fistful of rags. Sooze had followed her over to the truck, but one look into her foster sister’s eyes gave Skye a start. Sooze looked so tired.

  “Here, you carry these and the broom.” Skye yanked the rags from her pocket, handed them to Sooze, and picked up both buckets of water. “Victory over spiders!” she declared as she turned toward the chuck wagon.

  While Mr. Chambers groomed the campsite, Skye swept out the wagon and scrubbed its insides. Sooze rested on a crate outside, handing Skye rags as she needed them. After retrieving fresh water and a batch of clean cloths, the girls sat inside the covered wagon. Sooze handed Skye cooking utensils and plastic containers one at a time while Skye scrubbed them clean. The late afternoon sun warmed the wagon, giving it a pale yellow tint.

  Sooze smiled impishly, thinking ahead to her next words. “This place is so awesome. Speaking of awe-some,” she slipped in casually, “I’m meeting Jason Stine third period tomorrow.”

  “Jason Stine?” Skye’s face clouded in disgust. “I was sure you’d put trouble behind you.”

  Sooze handed Skye a large metal ladle. “Well, our buddy Kenny got himself busted again. This time when they locked him up in Chesterfield, they probably threw away the key. I needed a new contact, so Jason was more than willing. Do you want to meet me fifth period in the gym bathroom?”

  “Of course not,” Skye said as she scrubbed the spoon in one bucket and then rinsed it in the second. She pulled it out and jabbed it in Sooze’s direction with a very deter-mined look. “I don’t get why you’re so set on making things worse for yourself.”

  Sooze grabbed the spoon and smothered it with a soggy towel. “What’s it going to do, kill me? I figure the tumor’s going to do that first. So what if I use a little something to get me through this?”

  “You have plenty to help you get through this, Sooze,” Skye responded. “You have me, Morgan, the Chambers, Pepsi, and God — if you would just give him a chance to show you that he can help.”

  “Skye, you’re so different since you’ve been living here. I don’t even know you anymore. They’ve really got-ten to you, haven’t they?”

  “I told you before, Sooze, nobody got to me.” Skye grabbed a bunch of utensils, plopped them in the soapy bucket, and started washing. “I’ve just learned so much about myself and God, and, well, I needed him on my side. When I accepted Christ after our accident — we could have been killed, you know — it just changed the way I look at things. I don’t need stuff to make me feel good anymore. God is always there when I need him. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  One at a time, Skye handed over the utensils. Sooze dried and placed them on the counter behind her.

  “You know we’ve been learning about avoiding danger in youth group. Remember what Pastor Newman said? You can make bad choices and mess up your body.”

  “Nah, I don’t remember anything from youth group. I’m usually in La-La Land. That church stuff isn’t for me.”

  Skye whacked the bucket with a metal spoon in frustration. She wondered if she would ever be able to get through to her friend.

  “Skye — ” Sooze started to say.

  Skye busied herself scrubbing an old tin coffee pot.

  There was a long silence, which forced Skye to look up. “What?”

  Out from the shadow of the ball cap, Sooze’s face was covered in a steady stream of tears.

  “What’s wrong?” Skye slowly pulled the pot from the rinse bucket and wrapped it in a cloth.

  “Do you ever think about dying?” Sooze cried.

  “Sure. Sometimes. Doesn’t everyone?”

  “No, I mean really dying — like now.” Sooze dried her eyes with an already drenched towel. “The doctors keep telling me that I’m okay, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I don’t think I’m going to make it, and I don’t know what’s out there.”

  For once, Skye was speechless.

  “I feel so alone,” Sooze added.

  “You have your mom . . . and all of us!” Skye spoke with more hope than she was feeling.

  “How many times has Mom come to see me since I’ve been here?” Sooze’s voice rose in anger. “How many times has she even called?”

  Skye glanced upward, knowing the answer.

  “That’s right,” Sooze said. “Zero! Nada! Zilch! She doesn’t care. She never did.”

  “But you have us,” Skye said. “And Pastor Newman and the ­people at church care. Everyone is praying for you.”

  “That doesn’t help much when I’m lying in bed at night thinking about . . . do you really think there’s a heaven?”

  “Yes,” Skye said strongly. “The Bible says there is.”

  “Then you don’t just die,” Sooze sniffled. “I mean, you go somewhere, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Everyone who accepts Christ goes to be with him. It couldn’t be simpler. And it’s wonderful there. No more crying. No more pain. Sooze, why don’t you give your heart to God? Then you wouldn’t have to worry about dying because you’d know you’d go to heaven.”

  “I’ve never thought much about it,” Sooze said softly. “You heard my mom when we went to see her. She has no time for God. She always said we could make it on our own. I don’t think she even believes he exists. I think part of her problem is that we know some ­people who say they’re religious and all, but they have this long list of rules they try not to break. They live like they’re in prison all the time.”

  “I’ll tell you one thing, Sooze. I never thought about him much either before I came here. All I thought about was living it up, but I was so messed up from all the ­rotten things I had done. The truth is that I was having a lousy time instead of a good time. This God stuff all makes perfect sense to me now. I know that when I die, I’ll go to be with Jesus. That is so cool. Why don’t you give him a chance?”

  “I’ll think about it,” Sooze said quietly.

  “Hey, girls,” Mr. Chambers said, popping his head into the back of the wagon. He glanced at his watch and then took in what the two girls had accomplished. “Wow! It looks and smells great in here. We’ve finally got a decent campsite. Why, I think I could eat off this floor. Great job, ladies! Let’s pack up and head back for supper.”

  chapter twelve

  Beth, over here!” Skye said as she stood near one corner of the barn loft. Around Skye, the youth group girls chattered like birds, claiming their cherished spots to spend
the night. The bed of hay quickly vanished under a sea of sleeping bags, backpacks, and MP3 players. The air pulsated with jokes, the latest school news, and the excitement of roughing it at Keystone Stables.

  “Girls!” Mr. Chambers called from the bottom of the stairs. “Hay Wagon Number One leaving the station in five minutes.”

  “Hey, Melissa!” Skye yelled at a tall blonde, tiptoeing across the sleeping bags toward the steps. “Come here.”

  “What’s up?” Melissa walked over to Skye, who met her halfway.

  “Is Chad here? I didn’t see him get off the bus.”

  “Yeah, he’s here. He was in the back, protecting his guitar from the wild beasts.” Melissa flashed her pretty smile and studied Skye from head to toe. “Although — the way you look, he’ll have a hard time keeping his eyes on his guitar. Your dark hair looks terrific with that red sweatshirt. And where’d you get those boots?”

  “At the mall.” Skye ran her fingers through her silky hair, letting it fall casually onto her shoulders. “I always thought I looked okay in red.”

  “Okay is not the word,” Melissa said. “More like awesome! Chad will be totally impressed.”

  The girls giggled their way into the flow of those who were already starting down the stairs. At the bottom, they joined one of the chaperones, Mr. Salem, and the boys who were meandering to each stall, looking at the horses, reaching cautiously to pet their noses. Skye made a beeline toward Champ, bubbling about how great a horse he was.

  “Okay, kids!” Mr. Chambers shouted from the open doorway. “Wagon departing!”

  The kids charged toward the door. Mr. Chambers barely managed to get out of the way before they rushed through the opening and jumped onto an open wagon fluffed with a soft bed of hay. Against the back railings, Morgan and Sooze already sat like two hens on a nest of eggs. The last ones to board were the chaperone and Skye, who found herself sitting near Chad. As usual when he was around, her face turned red hot.

  Chad’s brown eyes sparkled. “Hey, Skye!” he said.

  “Hey,” she said back. “Where’s your guitar?”