Wall Flower

“I want to sit next to Cassandra,” Frank the Tank announced the moment he got out of the car to greet us with the rest of his family. He smiled innocently and sweetly up at his mother. “Can I, mama?” he asked, and his voice sounded as innocent as he looked.

“I don’t see why not,” Mrs. Jonas smiled, and she gently patted her youngest son’s head before he trotted over to Cass and me.

Joe was the last to exit the Jonas family car and he looked slightly disheveled, with dark circles under his eyes, a five o’clock shadow, his shirt slightly wrinkled and a sense of dying strength emanating off of him. He looked at me right away and slowly walked towards me, fumbling with his shirt as he went. When he came within reaching distance of me he extending his hand for me and pulled me close.

Could he feel my heart trembling? Could he feel the way his pain pervaded my soul and made me wish he did not feel it at all?

He did not say anything, nor did I, which was all right by us. It was one of those moments where silence between two people says everything. He pulled away a moment later and grinned weak heartedly at me before giving Cassandra and Nick a hug.

Joe had gone home with his parents instead of with Nick, Cassandra and me. Nick looked worried and anxious to the nth degree when he got in and out of his car, when he said goodnight to us, and when he disappeared into the building across from mine. One would think it would be worse for him and his family, knowing what exactly is hurting Joe; however, from my point of view, not knowing anything other than all hell breaks loose when that woman calls Joe, and not knowing how to fix it – that feels a lot worse.

We walked through the big white doors of the church. Perhaps it was the presence of Joe’s sorrow that made everything seem duller than I was used to: the pews, usually a warm brown, became so dreary they were nearly grey; the flowers hanging on the wall were a lot less bright, and all the oranges and yellows were turning brown; and the banners on the wall opposite us, the farthest one that ended the stage, were less joyous, though the words were “PEACE”, “JOY”, “LOVE”, and “KIND”.

“Loraine,” Joe called, and his voice was a bit hoarse. He cleared his throat and I waited for him to continue. “D’you wanna come with me to introduce my parents and Kev and Dani to Pastor Frank and Mr. Diego?”

I simply answered, “Yeah,” and gave him a small smile.

Nick was ahead of us helping his family find a place to sit. Joe called to him and we meandered up to them.

“Hey guys,” Joe said to his parents, brother and sister-in-law. “Wanna meet the pastor and youth pastor? They’re really cool guys.”

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Jonas said.

Joe waved them towards the stage where Mr. Diego and Pastor Frank were chatting. (I never realized how short Mr. Diego was, even compared to Pastor Frank!) Danielle grabbed my hand, gave it a squeeze, and I smiled lightly at her. She let go as we moseyed up to the pastors, both of which were supporting kind, welcoming smiles.

Mr. Diego proved even more why he was a youth pastor when he immediately started joking around with Frankie and pretending that the hand he used to shake hands with the little tyke was crushed. After, he and Pastor Frank, who Diego joked was the long lost clone of little Frankie, formally welcomed them to our church and told them to make themselves comfortable. As the rest of us began filing into the pews, Joe had gone off to the side of the stage and was talking with Mr. Diego. Joe’s shoulders were hunched, one hand in his pocket while the other stroked his cheeks all the way down to his chin before he used it to cover his whole face once again. Mr. Diego’s eyebrows furrowed and he put a hand on Joe’s shoulder, saying something I could not make out, and Joe nodded. Joe said one thing more before the two men embraced and Joe returned to us. His spirit had lifted a bit.

I sat in between Joe and Danielle, but the person I heard the most during worship was Joe. I always honed in on either his or Nick’s voice because they can sing so well. Sometimes I would go quiet just to listen to them, and this morning was no different. I stood with my eyes closed, letting my heart and my worries go up to God, listening ever so intently on Joe’s melodious voice; praying for my family, his family, and the person with whom he spoke yesterday; and praying lastly for Cassandra and her struggles – everybody I loved.

Pastor Frank went over 1 Corinthians that morning, and Joe and I exchanged a quick smile when Pastor Frank read over Joe’s favorite verse in 1 Corinthians. It made my heart happy to see a genuine smile on Joe’s face after what happened. Hopefully the memory of that smile would block out the haunting one of his shaking shoulders, his dampened-by-tears hand, and sniffles.

When the sermon ended the late morning sunlight permeated the windows and spread warmth and happiness among the pews, the flowers, and everything else that had appeared dull when I walked in. As Cassandra, the Jonas family and I exited, I took a deep breath of new fall air, let the sun caress me with its rays, thankful for its tender heat.

“Hey, uh, guys?” Joe said with hesitation. All of us turned towards him. He stood to the side of the doors, letting other churchgoers leave without bumping into him.

“I’m gonna stick around and talk with Diego for a little bit,” he continued, and he put his hands in his pockets. “I’ll text one of you to tell you when I’ll be done and you can tell me where to meet you guys. Diego said he’d give me a ride.”

“Sure.”

“No problamo.”

“Of course, sweetie.”

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

“’Sta bien,” I said, and I was the last one to speak. Kevin gave me a puzzled look before looking back at Joseph, and I assumed he was trying to decipher if what I said was English or not. I surmised then that his two middle brothers did not tell him that I spoke Spanish on occation.

Joe waved before walking back into the church, and I lingered for a moment before hopping into the car with Nick and Cassandra.

(Dear Heavenly Father, please, please be with my friend. You know what’s in his heart, you know what is troubling him, and since I can do nothing to help him, I give him over to you, for I know he is in great, caring hands, and you love him. I love him, too, as a dear friend, and I just want what’s best for him. Please. I can’t bear to see him in pain. I love you. Amen.)

I buckled in the backseat while Nick talked to Kevin through the driver’s seat window; they discussed where the closest restaurants were and who would be in agreement and who would not.

“Dani says she’s so hungry she could eat anything right now,” Kevin said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “No matter where we go she’ll order something weird, I’ll try not to make a face about it, she’ll notice it anyway, and she’ll get embarrassed about her cravings and eat off my plate with less gusto.”

“I’m going to eat you in a second, Paul Kevin Jonas!” Danielle spat from her car. She did not sound as if she were joking, though I could tell Kevin did because he smiled, shivered delightedly with an, “Ooh!” and said, “Later, babe, later!”

“Ew,” Nick said, echoing my thoughts. It was cute seeing the two in love, do not get me wrong - the only problem was the mental image that Kevin created was not welcomed.

“See ya at B.J.s!” Kevin said with much enthusiasm and trotted to his car where his wife was probably pouting.

“Dani, I did not make a face!” Kevin said, his voice going up an octave with guilt. I happened to see that lip curl, wrinkled nose, and wide eyed expression on his face when Danielle dipped her fries in the left over juice from her fruit bowl.

“Yes, you did!” Danielle argued, and she pushed her plate away from her as far as her arms allowed. “I can’t help it if I like fruit and fries together! Just because you hate fruit doesn’t mean I have to!”

“I’m allergic to fruit!” Kevin shouted, eyebrows raised, hands slightly outstretched with palms up, and shoulders at a shrug.

“Yeah, allergic,” Nick said, making air quotes when he said the last word. He leaned a little over the table to get closer to Cassandra and me, elbows almost on his mom’s food, dog tag barely grazing his pizza topped with mushrooms and various veggies, and stage whispered, “He’s just dramatic; he really just hates fruit.”

“I like fruit, and I don’t have to be allergic to it because you are,” Danielle said, and she pouted her bottom lip.

“I wasn’t saying that,” Kevin said in a soft voice. The two sighed, obviously done with their argument, and Kevin pushed his plate of left over slice of pizza with pepperoni, mushrooms, and sausage topping towards Danielle, who had been eyeballing it.

“Go ahead, babe,” said he, and when she reached for it hungrily he laughed.

“You weren’t kidding, huh Kevin?” Cassandra laughed. I only smiled.

Kevin scoffed. “Not at all.” He and Danielle shared a quick smile.

They were rather cute; I could not help think that every time I saw them.

The restaurant was overflowing, and luckily we got there before the lunch rush came in, or we would never have gotten a table large enough for our party of eight and a quarter (Dani’s and Kevin’s unborn daughter, Clarissa). My back was to the rest of the restaurant and I could see Nick and the large window in front of me. Sunlight danced off his curls, and I was not the only one who noticed: Cassandra ogled him every now and again, and I elbowed her every time I caught her doing so, in case Nick decided to look at her. Cassandra was not the only one ogling, however: Frankie Jonas, sitting next to Nick, in front of Kevin (who was beside me), was ogling Cassandra, and he made no point in hiding it.

“Do I have something on my face, child?” Cassandra asked a few moments after catching him. “A pimple? Food? A mole nobody ever told me about?”

All Frankie said was, “No,” and he looked down at his nearly empty plate. I thought I saw a bit of scarlet staining his cheeks.

Nick and I smiled at one another and tried to hold in our laughter. Nick suddenly stopped laughing and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. My heart leapt, hopeful that Joe had finally text us, when Nick said, “Danielle, you are a dork.”

She smiled, waved her phone, and Nick showed me the text: “I see you,” accompanied by a shocked emoticon.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when my phone began vibrating. I quickly retrieved it from my pocket and saw a text message from Joe waiting for me. It read, “Almost done. Sorry. ‘Bout another half hour, I think. I’ll text ya again.”

I showed the text to Nick and he announced it to everyone else. “Well, we can box the food for him,” Mr. Jonas said, “and since the rest of us want to go sightseeing, we’ll wait for him wherever we’re going to be. Unless anyone else has any other suggestions?” No answer, just expectant faces staring back at him. “Okay, well, Nick? Cassandra? Loraine? Any good places around here?”

The three of us looked at one another. I shrugged, Cassandra looked thoughtful, and Nick tapped his chin. Cassandra suddenly broke out into song: “I know-a super-dee-dooper pla-ace!”

“Then speak, lovely,” said I, and I thought carefully about what could make her this happy: dancing, theatre, animals, Disney movies. . . .

“The Aquarium!” she chimed with glee, and she looked at the rest of us expectantly, hope and excitement shining in her brown eyes.

“Sounds good.”

“I like fish!”

“As long as they have plenty of bathrooms. . . .”

“I don’t see a reason not to.”

“I like it!”

All eight of us agreed on the Aquarium and, after Cassandra, finally getting the hang of her new phone, looked up directions while I text Joe where we would be and gave him the address, so he could find directions as well.

“I need a job,” Cassandra stated in a melancholy voice as she stared hungrily at a dolphin plush toy in a window of one of the many white buildings with blue rooftops.

“Affirmative; however you shall not get a job just so you can buy child play things that you do not need,” I replied, but then I sighed heavily. “I need a job as well.”

“Me three,” Nick added. He eyed Cassandra, followed her gaze towards the dolphin plush toy, and began pondering.

I told my parents that once I got into the routine of school, I would try to get a job either on campus or at a restaurant or bookstore close by, and though it has not been long, and I don’t believe I have gotten the routine down, I need a job. Panera, this aquarium, and the school paraphernalia Cass and I feel the need to buy are costing me too much. The biggest problem I have with finding a job is this: Not knowing where to look - not that I have started yet. . . .

Our little group walked on, past the building with the dolphin plush toy in the window, around the fountains with children in colorful bathing suits running around them, and towards one of the exhibits that I believed had something to do with the Gulf of Mexico.

“Oh!” Danielle yelped and clung to her husband, who was trying to hold in a laugh and putting an arm around her waist.

There were medium sized sharks with a dull coloring and what looked like a small mustache on their snouts. I looked for a description of the sharks swimming around in their impressive exhibits and found one ahead of Kevin and his wife; it read “Nurse Sharks,” and had a small description of the sharks’ particular behavior, habitat, diet, etc.

“They’re just nurse sharks,” Cassandra reassured Danielle. “They’re not aggressive; in fact, they are a bit lazy because they chill on the ocean floor either suckin’ on algae or searching for other lazy fish to eat.”

“How do you know this?” Kevin asked. He and Danielle looked rather impressed.

“I’m an animal freak; I was the kid who would look in the non-fiction section for books on animals instead of fiction books on Junie B. Jones, like the rest of the girls in my grade.”

We moved on, and I periodically checked my phone for texts from Joe and searched for Nick. Somehow the boy went missing, and I thought maybe he had gone farther ahead than the rest of us, eager to see more fish. When I was not obsessing over my phone or looking out for Nicholas, Kevin and I would guess what the nurse sharks, snappers and redfish were thinking, and Danielle would comment on the current state of her bladder.

“I got this whipper snapper followin’ me around everywhere, grumble grumble,” Kevin said with a deep, raspy voice as a long, fat redfish swam by the glass with a smaller, colorful fish following closely.

I laughed and he continued imitating the fish. “Stupid, annoying, little fish, and his colors – rebellious, I tell ya!”

“Oh boy, oh boy, I’m so excited!” I said in my normal voice but added more excitement to it. “I get to be by this fat red fish and follow him around and hear him complain – oh what’s that?” – (the little rainbow fish would randomly shoot out towards something then come back) – “oh it left, and then I get to – oh there it goes!”

“Fricken little fish, can’t even hear myself think . . . stupid – oh crap she’s gonna eat me!” Kevin shouted as a nurse shark suddenly swam at a rapid speed towards the red fish.

Danielle was laughing so hard her eyes were watering, and she clutched her stomach as she said, “Oh my – ha ha! – you guys – ha ha! – you’re going to make me pee myself!”

“Thanks for that - that info, Dani,” Nick said, and I yelped with a very strong “Ah!” in it. “Scared you, sorry.” He was chuckling; therefore I knew he was not at all sorry.

“Where’d you disappear to?” Cassandra asked while eyeing the plastic bag he was hiding behind his back.

Kevin pointed at the bag and asked, “Went shoppin’?”

“No – yes – mind your own business,” Nick said, trying to come up with excuses and failing. He tied the handles of the bag together and would not let anyone see what was inside.

“Cassandra,” Frankie called. His eyebrows were narrowed and his lower lip jutted out slightly in a pout. “Come look at this little sea turtle!”

Nick and I gave each other knowing looks, looks that said, “The poor boy is desperate!”

My phone vibrated and my hand immediately flung to my pocket to retrieve it. Instead of a text, I was receiving a call, and it was from Joe. I glanced at Nick for a moment, hoping he would get the telepathic message I was sending him, and looked at the seaweed swaying in the exhibit.

“Hey, Joe,” said I. “Art thou here?”

“Yeah, where are you guys?” There was a different note in his voice; his words had a little kick in them that was dissimilar – and better – to the tone from this morning.

“In the exhibit that has to do with Mexico and its Gulf. We’re in the . . . center of it, I believe, where the sea turtles exhibit is.”

“Good, good – oh! Yeah, gotcha,” he replied, and I raised my eyebrow. “So how’s the aquarium? Worth every penny so far?”

“It seems so,” said I with a bit of suspicion. “Danielle was frightened by the nurse sharks swimming around the tanks, and Cassandra showed off for a bit on her animal knowledge. Kevin and I are entertaining ourselves with – AH!”

I felt something poke my side and I quickly turned around to investigate, heart running a marathon and breathing so erratic I was becoming lightheaded. I found a hysterical-with-laughter Joe holding his sides and enjoying my fright. I crossed my arms and tried to be angry with him, though I failed as miserably as Nick when he was trying to hide his purchase.

“I see you’re better,” Danielle mused, and she made me start slightly.

“Gettin’ there,” Joe chuckled, and he let out a dramatic sigh. “Sorry, Loraine. The opportunity was just there and I had to take it.”

I rolled my eyes, turned ninety degrees, and was pulled against the brick wall that was Joe as he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. One would think I would be used to his bear hugs; however the crushing of my ribs against my lungs was a thing that I could never get accustomed to.

Two black-yellow-black frogs sat next to each other with their backs to the glass wall and faces to the murky water. They simply sat and stared blankly ahead.

“Yep,” said the frog on the left in a nasally voice to the frog on the right. “I was right.”

“Right about what?” said the other frog in a deep, rumbling, slightly dopey voice.

“There’s another frog in here, hiding the water.” It hopped closer to the water’s edge and added, “He comes up all belly-up when I come to the water, mocking me.”

“There is no ‘nuther frog in there!” argued the other frog, and it hopped to the left. “Not here” – it hopped twice to the left – “or here!”

“No, no, I seent it!” the first yelled in a panic, and its chest puffed out, the yellow and black stripes growing larger. “It’s right . . . there! Geronimo!” The frog leapt into the water and splashed around frantically, trying to chase the supposed third frog. It panted, took a break, then hopped to the left, the right, and sat still once more.

“He got away, that trickster!” the frog bellowed.

The second frog began boasting about its correctness, hopping gleefully around its enclosure until it came to a sudden halt, gasped, and let out one long scream. The other frog saw what the second was screaming at and joined in the frenzied screaming and hopping. The causes of the screaming were two brothers staring into the little frog exhibit and disturbing nearby children with giving the frogs voices.

“Paul Kevin and Joseph Adam!” their mother chastised, and I stuttered a laugh when their muscles went rigid and their eyes bugged out of their sockets. “You two, be quiet now or so help me - !”

“Yes mommy,” Joe said in a small voice the same moment Kevin said, “Sorry mommy,” in the same small voice.

Mr. Jonas sighed and said, “I think it’s time to go.”

“Bye, frogs,” said I as I departed with Cassandra and the Jonas family.

We had reached the end of the exhibit and exited through the big double doors, only to enter a bright world with a blinding light flooding the sky and warm blues surrounding us; with sidewalks that reflected all light onto my body and crystal-like fountains shooting up from the ground. I shielded my eyes with my hand and squinted. Why do the exhibits have to be so dark and the outside world so bright?

“If it’s nothing then why are you trying to hide it?” Cassandra said – nearly shouted, actually. I squinted over in her direction and saw, although blurry, her with arms crossed, eyes piercing, and not on Nick.

Nick was looking helpless with upturned eyebrows; his knuckles were white from clutching the bag so tightly.

“Okay, fine, it’s a surprise!” he answered, and his voice was almost as heated as hers. “Calm down; you are overreacting.”

“Oh crap,” said I, and Joe gave me a cocked eyebrow.

“Am I?” Cassandra asked in return with clenched teeth. She tsked and her pace quickened as she put distance between herself and Nick. She was ahead of the whole group in a few seconds because of her long strides.

“Cassandra?” Nick called timidly. He caught up to Joe and me. “Cass - ?”

“Nick,” whispered I to him, “let her cool for moment. I’ve dealt with the angry part of her many a time. She’ll soon start crying” – Nick and I looked ahead at her and saw her wipe her cheek – “and following that will be silence on her end, and finally her anger will subside when she apologizes for getting angry.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, which made him look a little more like Joe. (They hardly looked like brothers, for their looks were so different.) “So, uh, is she mad at me still? If she’s gonna apologize . . . and if she’s crying . . .” His spirit fell instantly.

“Notice how she is not speaking with you?” Nick nodded. His eyebrows scrunched in the middle and he concentrated, made an “O” with his mouth a second later, and nodded once again, but with more assurance.

“You’ll be fine,” Joe and I said, and I eyed him. He mocked me and I rolled my eyes.

All nine of us (it made me smile to have Joe – a happy Joe – back with us) made our way back to our cars in a comfortable silence. Cassandra and I had to say our goodbyes to the Jonas family at that moment because we had to go back to our dorm to finish homework and they had to go back to their hotel to have family time before Mr. and Mrs. Jonas (both young and old) and Frank the Tank made the long trek home.

The hugs between Danielle and me were tight because of baby Clarissa; between Kevin and me, friendly; between Mr. Jonas and me, nonexistence, for we shook hands; and lastly, between Mrs. Jonas and me, warm and kind, almost like hugging an aunt. She kissed mine and Cassandra’s cheeks. Cassandra got a kiss on the cheek also from Frankie (I did not) before he got into his parents family car, cheeks flaming red and all flustered.

We departed. Cassandra did not look at Nick at all, though Nick pleaded, despite what I told him. I did not bring it up on the way home - how quickly my dorm room has earned the name! - and neither did she. We did our homework when we arrived home, listened to music, taking turns on the artist choice (she chose angry music while I chose hopeful music), and got ready to sleep when the need arose.

I turned the lights off and sank into my welcoming blankets, allowing my muscles to rest, my mind to stop racing with thoughts of this weekend, permit it to prepare for school and the brainwashing that would accompany it. . . .

“Do you know why I got mad at him?” Cassandra whispered.

“Sure,” I replied sleepily. I yawned shortly after.

“It’s different.” She took a momentary pause. “I am mad because I’m . . . I’m stuck between being his friend and something more . . . and I’m scared that I’m going to push him away without meaning to. You know what I mean?”

It was a long while before I whispered, “Yeah.”