Wall Flower

“I think it would be appropriate,” the youth pastor of the church, Mr. Diego, a man not yet thirty, said with his Texas drawl after the great worship team performed, “that after that song” - (the song was See His Love, one of my many favorites) – “to end with Romans 6:9, 11 and 14.”

As he began to read I turned to the chapter and verses in the bible I’ve owned since my parents gave it to me as a child. “For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead,” Mr. Diego read, “he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him . . . In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. . . . For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace.” He closed his bible and smiled at the rest of us. “Cool, huh? Knowing that with Him we don’t have to worry about being guilty, ashamed, or under sin’s control. Christ set us free. See ya’ll.” He tripped on his way past the band and the band members started laughing.

Mr. Diego began to a little dance to play off his trip and the guitarist began playing something equivalent with a hoe-down song. Joe cheered, I and the rest of the church laughed, and all of us clapped as Mr. Diego danced and the bass player began dancing with him.

“All right, all right,” the pastor, Pastor Frank, the one who led the sermon today, laughed. He stood from his spot in the front row. “You all may leave.”

“It’s ya’ll, Pastor Frank,” Mr. Diego corrected with a smile as he came to stand next to his fellow pastor. “You’re in Texas.”

Pastor Frank nudged Mr. Diego lightly and the two laughed before they went to say goodbye to members of the church.

“So, Joe,” I said, gathering my bible and my purse. “What was it that you had planned?”

He held up his index finger. “First, before I answer, I wanted to say I like your dress. I remember you telling me dresses were evil, but I don’t think they look evil on you.”

I looked down at my red and white dress and fumbled with the thick shoulder straps. “Thanks,” I said quietly. “Cassandra forced it on me.”

“It’s a nice day,” she said. “I didn’t want you wearing pants on a day like this.”

“You look nice too, Cass,” Nick said to her, and it was slightly random. “Since we are – were on the topic.” He sighed as he followed us out of the row we had sat in. “It was slightly random, huh? Darn, sorry about that.”

Cassandra waved a hand to dismiss it and the two of them walked in front of Joe and I down the aisle to the front door. “There’s no shame in Christ, no matter how much. So don’t get embarrassed or little shamed.” The two laughed. “But thanks. You look shpiffy too.”

Joe was messing with his phone when I glanced away from the door and at him. His eyebrows creased in the middle and he looked troubled as he pressed buttons on his phone. I was about to ask him if he was okay when his phone started to vibrate and he muttered a “Darn it” under his breath.

“Hello?” he asked with caution as we exited the small church. He sauntered off, but not before I heard a frustrated voice coming from the other line. He walked around the corner of the church and replied just as angrily as the other voice sounded.

“Where’s he running off to?” Cassandra asked as she stood next to me.

“I don’t know, but he sounded livid,” I replied, looking at the corner of the building he had rounded. “He’s speaking with someone on the phone.”

“Oh,” Nick said, and he looked at the two of us for a second with an expression of anxiety before turning a heel. “Best just to wait by our cars until he’s finished.”

I knew I should not pry and followed my friends to our parked cars, worry making my eyebrows furrow and the corners of my lips to turn downwards.

We only waited by our cars for a few moments before Joe came back with a saddened expression on his handsome face. I had been praying that he and the person on the other line would speak calmly to one another and resolve anything that had heated the fire, though I could see that whatever happened had left Joe distressed.

God made him with a handsome face
And happiness made that face shine
But sadness made that face beautiful

(Dear God, please remind Joe of what Pastor Frank read to us from your word: “Rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” I pray that he will feel better and remember that hope in You does not fail.)

“Sorry,” he said to us when he came to a stop in front of us. “Something came up. I have to go.” He pulled something from his pocket and handed it to me. It was a buy one, get one free ticket for the zoo Joe spoke of when telling me about this church. I looked up at him. “I was going to take you, but . . .”

“Now you can’t go,” I said quietly, finishing his sentence. He looked down at the ground, the way I do most of the time, and I reached my hand out to touch his shoulder hesitantly. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Joe, and I’m not going to ask you. But would you mind if we prayed right now? Before you go?”

He looked up at my face in surprise and it turned into relief as he nodded. He grabbed my hand and looked over at his brother as Nick put a hand on his back before reaching down to hold his hand and Cassandra’s hand. When Cassandra’s hand went in mine I began to pray, and it was similar to what I was praying for earlier: “Dear Heavenly Father, I pray for Joe, that you put your hand over his heart and comfort him. Remind him that he’s surrounded by people who love him and that You have everything under control. You are the greatest good, and everything you do, no matter how painful, will always be good. I pray that You will remind Joe of that during his troubles; I pray that you help him to feel joy again.” Joe squeezed my hand as I said, “In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

Joe pulled me into a hug. “Thank you, Loraine Jane Fontaine,” he whispered into my ear. Even at that moment I could not help but think how tall I was, how he could whisper into my ear perfectly because he was just barely at eye level with me. However, it did not seem as though he cared.

“I thank God that he brought you into my life,” he whispered once more before letting go of me. He gave me a wistful smile, briefly waved at the two for one ticket he gave me, and said, “That can at least get your ticket, but Nick?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Take this for -”

“Joe, no,” Nick said immediately. “The housing and -”

“She’s not going to the zoo alone. Just take it,” Joe interrupted, and he held out a couple twenties. “It’s your birthday, Nick. I know I took you to dinner last night, but here, it’s an extra gift. Plus, I have a job; I’ll have more money coming in soon.”

“Not much,” Nick muttered. He and Joe stared at one another for a few silent moments, assessing each other and communicating in a way I know all too well: sibling telepathy. My sister can read my expressions and know what I’m thinking without me even looking at her, and I her. Nick and Joe were doing the same, and Nick had given in. He took the money Joe was offering and shoved it in his pocket.

“You mind if he drives with you?” he asked me. (We had taken his car and my car to the church).

“No, of course not,” I said, and he gave me a hug. “It’s his birthday, anyway. Wish I knew,” I muttered the last. “Farewell, I guess.”

He chuckled once, though it lacked happiness, and it nearly tore my heart in two. “I’ll be back by tonight.” He pulled away. “Mind if I walk you to class again?”

“Has she said no any of the other times you asked?” Cassandra laughed. “You’re going to be replacing me as a best friend soon.” I gave her a look of sadness and she lightly pushed me. “Shut it, I know you still love me. We’re sisters in Christ, so either way you’re going to see me in eternity.”

I laughed lightly as Joe went around his car to the driver’s seat. “Birthday Boy, watch out for our new friends,” he ordered, and he looked at us with a smile I knew meant he was about to crack a joke. “Especially Loraine. The komodo dragons might get jealous of another dragon walking around and not in a cage.”

I watched as my hurting friend drove out of the parking lot and down the street, growing smaller as he drove farther away.

My friends and I got into my car then and Nick looked up directions on Cassandra’s new (her parents bought it for her as a going-away gift and because she was the baby of the family, the last to go to college) “smart phone” since she was too lazy to do it herself. She complained that “these new gadgets with their doo-hickeys were too complicated for her.”

The parking lot for the zoo/park was almost filled to the brim and it was difficult to find a parking spot. All three of us were worried that the zoo was going to be crowded, but after we got our tickets and went through the arched doorway with the people that scan tickets and check bags, we saw that there was hardly anyone walking around.

“They must all be at the park,” I surmised, and I saw my two friends nodding in agreement. I looked around and found a sign with arrows pointing in multiple directions. I walked up to it and read what the painted arrows said: The zebra painted one said “African Animals,” the leopard arrow said “Rainforest Exhibits,” all white “Arctic Tundra Exhibits,” and lastly the rainbow arrow read “Petting Zoo.”

“I don’t care where we go,” Cassandra said. “As long as we get food on the way.”

“Anything’s good to me,” Nick added. “Food or exhibits, I mean.”

“Okay, put all the pressure on me to find which part of the zoo to visit, though I don’t know how far or how close either portions are nor do I know if they are any good,” I said sarcastically. “Seems like a perfectly reasonable thing to do.”

“I know where you want to go, though,” Cassandra said. “So go ahead and pick.”

“And yet, I might choose a place either of you could be absolutely appalled about the mere thought of going to. Of course we do not even touch the subject of our friend’s birthday who should be picking the first place we ought to go to since, as written down in the book of Best Friend Enslavement Rules, those who have a friend that is aging is obligated to treat said aging person as a king or queen and give them anything they wish to receive, like peeled grapes,” I continued to ramble. Cassandra gave me a grimace and Nick just waited patiently for me to choose. “Fine, fine, you two leave me no choice: I have to choose the Rainforest Exhibits.” I walked in the direction the arrow was pointing. “But remember, if you two don’t like it don’t blame -”

“Loraine Fontaine,” Cassandra interrupted. “Your sarcasm is hilarious, we know. Let’s just go look at your favorite creatures.”

I smiled at her and at Nick for not staring at me like I was some crazed girl. I rather liked him.

I only wished that Joe were there with us.

After taking a quick look at the map and dropping a dollar into the “Donate to the Wild” box, we walked through an archway covered in bright, dark, and emerald leaves and twisting vines . I ran my fingers along the damp leaves of the archway and made my way through it to see rainforest themed restaurants, gift shops, and a tram stop. The sign above it read: “Tram travels through Rainforest Cats, Elephants, and Chimpanzee exhibits.” Near the tram station were signs that had various arrows pointing in different directions. Above the arrow pointing to the right were Aviary and Tropical Birds, Rainforest Reptiles and Amphibians, and Exotic Plants; the arrow pointing up had Rainforest Cats, Monkeys, Elephants and Tram Ride above it.

“I vote reptiles,” said Nick, momentarily ceasing his soft singing of “Empty Chairs and Empty Tables” from Les Misérables, my favorite musical of all time. Since meeting Nick I always heard him either humming or softly singing songs from that musical, songs on the radio, songs sung in church – something musical. The boy was constantly singing, and he had a beautiful voice, though I have yet to tell him such.

“Estoy de acuerdo con él,” Cass said to me, pointing at our friend. Nick looked confused, and he had reason to be: for all he knew, she could have insulted him instead of agreeing with him.

“How does that not surprise me?” I replied, and she gave me a face.

“What? What’d you say?” Nick asked Cass with a reasonable amount of worry in his voice. “Did you just insult me in Spanish?”

“Come, come, children,” I said, teasing Nick further and not allowing Cassandra to say yes or no, which she wouldn’t anyway because she would want to tease the poor boy as well. “We should see if my long lost cousins are in the exhibit.”

“Let’s eat first, yeah?” Cassandra suggested as she pointed to the nearest restaurant decked in leaves and massive vines like the ones on the archway, except with an added bonus of giant, fake butterflies that had moving wings. We went in and saw people in two winding lines on either side of a giant counter adorned with various plates of hot food. We saw the menu and saw that a lot of it was a little on the expensive side except for the kid meals. We got three of those: two burgers and fries meals and one dinosaur nugget and macaroni and cheese meal, all stuffed into a plastic, cartoon elephant shaped container with a difficult but reliable latch. I say reliable because though I tripped on the way out the door and dropped the container it did not crack nor did the latch fly open and spill my food.

While we nibbled on a hamburger, fries, or a dino nugget we walked into a rocky tunnel with a somewhat tacky sign that read “Rainforest Reptiles and Amphibians.” Inside the tunnel had various glass windows spread out along the walls on either side of us and in the hallways that were ahead. Right away I saw mini jungles inside the habitats, but not many reptiles or amphibians unless I looked hard enough. Some were camouflaged, like chameleons and poisonous frogs - all beautiful. There were snakes that varied in sizes from as long as my forearm, as long as my arm, to longer than my body. The lizards were the same: varying in sizes, but none got longer than my arm except for my long lost cousin: the Komodo dragon.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I came upon the exhibit, one that was larger than the other ones, and for good reason. There was a bar in front of the glass window, like with all the other ones, and on the bar was a plaque that gave the description of the animal. Next to it was a larger plaque that gave its name, weight, length, and story. This dragon was six-feet five-inches long, an earthen red, named Kersen. Once she saw a human at her glass, she walked slowly toward said human: Me; her forked tongue flicked in and out of her mouth as she climbed down from her rock where she sunbathed. I stood wide-eyed, suddenly frozen. My instincts told me that this creature was dangerous, that the drool that slipped from her lips was poison, that I was lucky the glass was separating us. Yet, though the hair on the nape of my neck stood on end, though Kersen the Komodo dragon was just a couple inches longer than I was, I still found her red-brown scales beautiful, her movement majestic.

She stopped right in front of me and stared me down with those beady, black eyes.

Orange hair compared to deadly claws
What a beautiful thing she saw

A dull hue compared to majesty
Poison hiding behind the beauty

Quiet girl staring at a scaly beast
Best friends, to say the least

There was a soft click that broke me from my trance, and I turned my head to find Cassandra holding her phone up. It was pointed at me and the dragon. “I just had to capture the moment you two were having.”

“She’s a girl,” I said to her. “You know I don’t swing that way.”

Nick muttered something to Cassandra and it made her laugh. I raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “I didn’t say much, just that, uh, Cassandra lost her friend not only to Joe, but to a giant lizard too.”

I chuckled, though I knew he said something else other than what he told me. He probably whispered a sweet nothing into her ear. “She just loses at life,” I said, grinning at her before she stuck her tongue out at me. “Be careful, Kersen might think you’re mocking her.”

“Kersen?” she asked, coming over to the glass. She eyed the dragon with caution. “That’s her name?”

“It means cherry,” I answered. “Matches her red-ish scales. She’s beautiful.”

Kersen and I stared at one another once more, fixated on each other: me examining her flicking tongue and thanking God I wasn’t in her cage with her and within biting range; her examining me and my orange hair, long, lean body, and tons of freckles.

“How about you take a picture like I did?” Cass said to me, once again breaking my moment with my new friend. “It’ll last longer.”

“We do have more zoo to see,” Nick added. “Here, lean down beside her and I’ll take a picture of the two of you.” I did as was told and posed with me smiling awkwardly, as usual, and making a heart with my hands.

Cassandra and Nick began walking away after Nick took a picture of me and Kersen. Before I too walked away I put my hand on the glass, looked into Kersen’s black eyes and said, “Bye, friend.” Her response was simply this: A flick of her tongue, a blink of her eyes, and a second flick before she turned away and went back to the spot I first saw her in.

I felt like the third wheel and the only thing they were doing was saying goodbye.

I stood against my dorm room door in my famous pose trying to hide my eye roll. I was ready to change out of my stupid dress, the one that was chewed on by not just one baby goat, but two baby goats and their mother at the petting zoo; the one that was sneezed on by a little boy and drooled on by the giraffe we fed; the one that now had a hole that showed my pink floral underwear because of a stupid strand of fabric from my dress got caught on the chain link fence of a bird cage that I stupidly leaned against. I wanted to get these shoes cleaned (no, I was not wearing them now, for that would be nauseating) of random child vomit. My phone was dead and needed to be revived by a thing called my phone charger so I could call Joe back. He called me when we were in the aviary and by the time I got it we were done with the aviary and my phone was dying. It was dead before I could pull up his number.

And now I was waiting for my two awkward – more awkward than I usually am, and that, in of itself, is saying a lot – friends to say two words: “Good” and “bye.”

Why did I not just open the door myself? Cassandra Heather Abott had the key and, as I have complained and whined about, she was too busy having trouble saying a quick, “Parting is such sweet sorrow,” like Juliet does to Romeo in their just as long goodbye in Shakespeare’s famous play.

“Uh, maybe we can go out to dinner tomorrow,” Nick suggested, “and hang out or something.” He wiped his hands on his pants a couple times and I raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Cassandra replied with a smile. “We ought to celebrate your birthday somehow.”

He smiled back and the two stood there for a good two minutes before Cassandra noticed me. She squeaked and began inviting me along but, seeing Nick’s look (a look not directed at me), I could tell what he wanted; thus I replied, “I’ll probably be doing homework, but thank you anyway.”

They hugged each other goodbye in the famous “Christian side-hug” way – that’s where you just hug your friend with one arm, to put it simply – before Nick hugged me in the same way. I was not used to hugging him yet so I was comfortable just giving him a “Christian side-hug.” He mouthed “Thank you” as he pulled away before bashfully smiling at Cassandra and walking away, back to his dorm room across from our building.

“Can we go in now, sweetie?” I asked her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said with a wide grin and a bright blush staining her tan cheeks. “Don’t tease me, ‘cause I know you’re about to. Remember: you get that way with Joe.”

I sighed as she unlocked the door and walked inside. “I’m trying not to.”

It was my turn to blush and return to my discomfited self.

When I plugged my phone into its charger, I didn’t call Joe; I didn’t call Joe because I . . . chickened out, as the phrase goes. My fingers were ready to put his name into my contacts to pull up his number, however I froze. I wouldn’t know what to say, what to do, and that was unusual because I still felt the urge to console him and make him feel better, like I always do with good friends.

This time, however, was different, because this friend was different. Joe was different.