Daisy on Wheels: A Novel

By Bill Blankenship

An automobile accident has killed thirteen-year-old Daisy Dean's father and left her confined to a wheelchair. Making life more unbearable, the terms of her father's will stipulate that Daisy and her mother must move from her beloved New York to the small town of Peanut, Texas, her father's birthplace.

Daisy hates her new town. She hates her new school. She hates her wheelchair. Mostly, Daisy hates her new schoolmates and the townspeople, whom she considers unruly and none too bright. At first, her haughty attitude and smart mouth keep any potential friends at quite a distance. Gradually, against all instincts, Daisy Dean begins to feel somewhat at home in the harsh Texas landscape and guardedly comfortable with people different from herself.

Slowly, the Texans also warm to the prickly but interesting young New Yorker and encourage her to take up the sport of wheelchair racing. Before she can feel truly at home, Daisy must discover why her father left Peanut as a young man and solve a mystery he left behind. The solution to that mystery will determine whether Daisy can ever be happy in her new life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 24, 2008
• ISBN: 9781440115844

Book preview

Daisy On Wheels

A Novel

BILL BLANKENSHIP

iUniverse, Inc.

New York Bloomington

Daisy On Wheels

A Novel

Copyright © 2008 by Bill Blankenship

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

iUniverse

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.iuniverse.com

1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-0-595-47881-1 (pbk)

ISBN: 978-0-595-71595-4 (cloth)

ISBN: 978-1-4401-1584-4 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 12/15/2008

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

This story is dedicated to my remarkable grandchildren and those young men and women who call me grandpa out of simple affection: Rachel Volosing, Johann (Siggi) Cristwell, Christopher and Curtis Cristwell; Jordyn, Jake and Jason Andersen; Risako, Shuhei (Che) and Samson Nakamura/Blankenship; Devyn and Stevie Jones: Jessika Blankenship, Billy Blankenship and his wife Amber, the newest member of our family.

Chapter 1

I’m sitting outside a principal’s office listening through a flimsy wall to my mother work at getting me registered in a school I am seeing for the first time this morning. A school I hate on sight. In a town where we have just moved. A town I hate even more than I hate the school, if that’s possible.

Sims Seabury, principal of Jacob Mueller Middle School, is trying to stop my mother from enrolling me here. He thinks he can win an argument with her. Sorry Bubba, no contest. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.

Ma’am …

My name isn’t Ma’am. I’m Jessica Dean. You will call me Mrs. Dean. You may call my daughter Daisy.

Mrs. Dean, y’all don’t seem to understand, Principal Seabury says. It’s our policy to send wheelchair kids over to Spencer where they have the right facilities. I’m sure your daughter Daisy would be a fine addition to our school, but we can’t take her.

Policy is one thing, Mr. Seabury. The law’s another. I’ve spent a lot of time researching Texas laws on education for handicapped students and the Americans with Disabilities Act. Papers are slapped down on a desk, Mom bringing out her big guns. You are legally required to accept Daisy at this school. I’m sure your school district knows the law and has been quietly ignoring it. This is a brief I’ve written for a three million dollar lawsuit I intend to file against you and this school district with the U.S. Attorney in Houston. Unless you enroll Daisy today.

That’s me, Daisy Dean. Born thirteen years ago in New York City. Raised on the east side of Manhattan. Lived there all my life. My blood probably consists of equal parts bagels, cream cheese and Nathan’s hot dogs. I can tell you the batting average of every player on both the Yankees and the Mets. I like the ballet at Lincoln Center, too. Before the accident that put me in a wheelchair, when I could walk and run like any other girl, Central Park was my playground. I belong in New York City.

Where am I? You’ll never believe this—PEANUT, TEXAS!

Yes, there is such a town. A two traffic light, five dogs, seven trees, meandering muddy creek, blazing sun, guys in cowboy hats, country music only on the radio, pickup trucks everywhere kind of town.

I glance to my right where the school secretary, a scrunchy woman in a shapeless black dress, listens avidly to my mother and her boss arguing on the other side of the wall. She reminds me of the wicked witch in The Wizard Of Oz. Why don’t you like my dog Toto? I ask her.

She’s embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping on her boss and confused over my question. I beg your pardon?

"Toto never did anything to you!"

Her cheeks redden. I don’t know this person Toto.

"Toto isn’t a person, he’s a dog. I knew he’d escape from that basket on the back of your bike. You would’ve had Toto put down, wouldn’t you! Just because he snapped at you. Good thing I had the Wizard of Oz on my side."

Alarmed by my wild comments, the secretary puts more distance between us. "Young lady, what are you talking about?"

I change tactics and ignore her completely. Since being paralyzed from the waist down, I’ve taken up confusing and humiliating strangers as a hobby. Do I sound nasty? So what. People humiliate me ten times a day. They stare at me on the street, clucking and shaking their heads over the poor crippled girl. I try to cross a street on a green light, some drivers honk at me to move my wheelchair faster. Girls whisper about me behind their hands. Principal Seabury dismisses me as a wheelchair kid.

They can all go drown.

The argument in the principal’s office ends. Mom wins, of course. She’s a lawyer who made a good living in New York outsmarting men much brighter than the principal of a tacky little middle school in Peanut, Texas.

Mom and Principal Seabury emerge from his office. He wears a smile false enough to paint on a clown. So this is Daisy Dean. We’re delighted to have you at Jacob Mueller, Daisy.

No, you aren’t. Mom had to blackmail you into taking me. I heard the whole thing through the wall.

Eavesdropping is not an attractive trait, Mom says.

I point at the school secretary. She put her ear to the wall. Why shouldn’t I?

Principal Seabury gives his secretary a We’ll talk look.

The point is you are now officially enrolled here. Mom gives Principal Seabury a brilliant smile. She’s an attractive woman, and victory over an opponent always adds a special glow. Mr. Seabury has been an absolute darling. He’s promised to have his maintenance man create special stalls in two of the girls’ restrooms right away. You’ll have a faculty advisor who understands the needs of special students. Plus a student advisor to show you around the school.

I’m delirious with joy, I reply in my most bored voice.

Principal Seabury’s false smile sags. Interesting young lady.

She’ll be fine, I promise you. Mom’s promise is made to the principal but aimed like a knife at my throat. I’d better behave at this school, is the message. Or she will visit a terrible revenge on me. I take the threat seriously. Jessica Dean is great at revenge.

You’ve got your cell phone?

I pat the leather holder attached to my motorized wheelchair.

Call if you have any problems. She leans down. A kiss. A hug. A worried frown. I’ve been under her protection every day for the last year. Time for me to go out on my own. A flash of panic behind the eyes, then she’s gone.

As soon as Mom is out the door, I decide to give Principal Seabury a hard time. When he opens the door to the hallway, I roll my wheelchair over his left foot as I exit.

Ow! He knows I did it on purpose, but his anger has nowhere to go. What can he do to a wheelchair kid? After frustrated wheezes, he beckons me to follow. Going down the hall, he watches to make sure I don’t drive my chair over his toes again. Daisy, I’ll do everything I can to make sure y’all get a quality education. You can take it or leave it. Your faculty advisor will be Ted Englehart. Teaches English, you’ll like him. Probably the most popular teacher in school.

Principal Seabury ignores my gagging noise.

We go through a door marked Faculty Office into a large, untidy room with a dozen desks. The stuff on each desk has two or three different personalities. The teachers don’t have their own desks in this little hick town school. They have to share. A woman with hair dyed a steel blue, math teacher written all over her, is hunched over a laptop. In one corner, sprawled in a rickety chair with one cowboy boot up on the desk, another teacher is going over a pile of English essays. I’m guessing he’s a born Texan. Tall and lean. Rugged face. Denim shirt and jeans. Thick brown hair clipped real short. All the girls would want to have him as their home room teacher.

Ted, I’d like you to meet someone. Principal Seabury nervously clears his throat. This is Daisy Dean, a new student. Just here from New York City, of all places. I’ve … well … I’m assigning y’all as her faculty advisor.

Ted Englehart stares at me as if I’m a nightmare he has every night. Daisy Dean? Harley’s Dean’s daughter? I knew your father years ago. I heard you were in town, but no one told me … I mean … I didn’t know …

That I’m a cripple? The C word makes them squirm every time.

That you’re in a wheelchair. He throws the stack of essays on his desk and jumps to his feet. No, Sims! I won’t do it!

Ted … come on … you’re the logical teacher to get Daisy through what’s bound to be a tough year for her.

Mr. Englehart’s face goes through a dozen unpleasant emotions in a few seconds. His mouth twists. Eyes roll. He violently shakes his head, first at Principal Seabury and then at me. He’s about to bust wide open. I hit the joystick on my console and the motorized wheelchair backs up a couple of feet. Am I so gross this man can’t even stand to look at me?

Ted, be reasonable.

"I won’t do it, Sims. For God’s sake, I can’t do it! You know why I can’t!" Mr. Englehart pushes past the principal, hits the office door flat-handed, charges down the hall with his cowboy boots clacking loudly. The math teacher with the steel blue hair is gawking.

Principal Seabury isn’t as upset by Mr. Englehart’s reaction as he should be. He expected something like this. I’m sorry, Daisy. Ted’s a great guy, fine teacher, but he has some hang-ups. I’ll tell you something else. Back when your father was a boy here in Peanut, Ted Englehart was one of your daddy’s best friends. He’ll come around, I promise you.

Lucky me, he’s the counselor of my dreams. I’m totally sick of this school and I’ve only been here an hour. Which way to my prison cell?

Principal Seabury groans. Please follow me, Daisy. Back into the hallway. He walks with me in his wake to classroom 104, where he says Wait here, and goes inside.

I drive my wheelchair in circles until Principal Seabury emerges with a girl wearing tight jeans, scuffed old sneakers and a loud-colored cowboy shirt. She’s stuffing books into a backpack, annoyed at being pulled out of class. This is the beautiful girl I once dreamed of becoming. Long blonde hair tied in knots that fall most of the way down her back. Complexion like fresh cream. Strong legs. One glance and I despise her.

Daisy, this is Shawnee Pickens. You two have a lot in common. You both have … uh … independent minds. Shawnee, I’m appointing you to show Daisy the ropes around here.

Mr. Seabury, I’m already workin’ with Sue Weed.

Sue’s adjusted so well she no longer needs a student advisor.

Shawnee Pickens stamps her foot. This isn’t fair! I get all the new kids.

Y’all are good at helping other girls get settled into a new school. It’s a gift, you should be proud.

It’s a dang curse, is what it is.

I can read Shawnee Pickens’ opinion of me on her oh-so-pretty-face. She’s thinking major geek. Find me someone else.

You see! Shawnee again stamps her foot, which seems to be her major form of expression. She don’t want me. I don’t want her.

The principal hands a sheet of paper to Shawnee. This is Daisy’s schedule. She’s in the same classes you are, that’s one reason I chose you as her student advisor. Introduce Daisy to her teachers, beginning with Mrs. Squires. Oh, be sure to show Daisy how to use the elevator. His hands move in an awkward apology. Maintenance elevator, I’m afraid. Only way to reach the second floor without using the stairs. Don’t worry, it’s a perfectly good elevator.

Hasn’t been inspected in about forty years, Shawnee chimes in. Bucks like a mustang, smells like a mule, takes all day to get to the second floor. Oh, there’s black widow spiders livin’ up in the corners.

But I’m sure it’s tastefully decorated, I say, and am surprised to hear Shawnee Pickens giggle.

Principal Seabury is tired of my sarcasm. Two of a kind, he mutters, heading back to his office.

Before Shawnee Pickens and I can take each other’s measure, a bell rings and kids pour into the hall heading for their next classes. I’m roughly jostled by two kids … good grief, they’re identical twins! … and my cell phone is knocked out of the leather holder on the side of my wheelchair. The twin boys howl and double up with laughter. Apparently the act of banging into a wheelchair kid is a high form of humor in Peanut, Texas.

Shawnee doesn’t think so. Joey Englehart! Jimmy Englehart! Watch where you’re goin’! That wasn’t funny!

The twins giggle and make dumb faces at us—at me, I should say.

You grow those wheels all by yourself? one of the twins jokes.

Naw, she bought them at a flea market, his brother wisecracks.

The twins rush off giggling wildly over their brilliant humor.

Englehart? Please don’t tell me those two dimwits are related to my faculty counselor.

Yep. Jimmy and Joey are Mr. Englehart’s sons. For a teacher, he’s pretty cool, but his kids are major morons. Mr. Englehart’s wife died a few years ago, y’see, and he can’t seem to handle Jimmy and Joey by himself. She grabs my phone from under a pair of feet and sticks it back in the