“You would make a great ballerina, Jessie,” Jonas chimed in, just as I was teasing Amy about plies and those dreadful shoes.
“Never going to happen.”
Amy followed as I walked out into the courtyard in search of the thickest elm I could find. Fingering its ample trunk, I steadied myself for a climb. Amy looked up, noting how tall this particular tree was. The gradual worry tugged at her face.
“Are you really going up there?” she asked.
“I’ve climbed a lot bigger ones than this.”
My tennis shoes hugged the trunk as my sturdy arms embraced it in a tight-fisted grip. When I reached the first branch, I hoisted myself up, seeing Amy’s face below me. She was toying with the idea of following, but I could see she was just plain scared.
The tree branched into a spray of lengthy fingers. When I found the right limb to climb, I continued to stretch my body in its direction. I was traveling higher than I’d ordinarily venture, but there was something about the two faces watching me that urged me on, lifting me up even higher. I’ve always had this unusual attraction to trees. Being up there, high above the world, it was like this energy would fill me up. I’d hear the leaves on each branch whistling in the wind, the sound as soothing as anything I’d ever heard. Up there I was free from the troubles below. I could literally sit for hours, and sometimes did. My dream was to one day have an enormous tree house, where I could sleep, watch movies, listen to music, and dream. No one could reach me, no one would bother me, except my mother, or maybe Beth, who would serve me meals via a pulley created from a basket and a strand of rope. I had it all planned out, with the exception of where I’d plug my TV in, and where I’d go to the bathroom, and, I guess, well, a lot had to be figured out.
I decided early on that trees were the only living things in the world that could give to the world without expecting anything in return.
“Watch it!” I heard from below, a voice of panic.
Before I knew what was happening, I felt the branch give way, my foot buckling, having nothing to hold onto. I didn’t want to look down. I knew how high I had climbed. I felt my body slide against the rough bark, a searing pain gripping my left underside. At least my hands were safely around its torso.
I had fallen approximately four feet before my foot landed on another solid branch. My heart was racing. I saw that I was bleeding through my blouse, the red turning my white T-shirt crimson.
Amy was perched on the ground, hunched over with both hands over her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to see me splatter. Jonas was there, and although I couldn’t see him, I could feel his presence somewhere below, urging me to jump. “I’ll catch you!” he cried out.
I had nowhere to go but down. The branch I was resting on was already beginning to waver. The second branch broke. I gasped, while my body dragged me down another two feet until I landed magnificently, and effortlessly, in Jonas’s arms.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered.
“That’s not funny, Jessie. You could have really hurt yourself,” he said. “What if I wasn’t there to catch you?”
I hadn’t considered that. There was something about Jonas that led me to believe he’d always be there to catch me.
“Look at you,” he continued. “You’re a mess.” More blood had seeped onto his shirt.
“It doesn’t hurt,” I said bravely, pulling my hair back into a rubber band.
All this time, little Amy was still hovered over, afraid to look up.
“She’s okay, Ames,” he called out to her. “You can get up now.”
I turned to find her beautiful green eyes peeking through the delicate fingers.
“You scared me, Jessie! Don’t do that again,” she said, running toward us, offering us a hug.
Sandwiched between the two of them lightened the load of my fears. My heart had been momentarily racing; it still was—beating stronger and faster than usual—when I realized it wasn’t my heart at all. It was Jonas’s.
He carried me into the hospital, where my mother begrudgingly cleaned my wounds and held back from giving me the third degree on my birthday.
Amy and Jonas were waiting when I walked out of the ER. They looked glum and annoyed.
“I’m sorry,” I said, giving in to their shared displeasure.
“I don’t know why I deal with you, Jessie Parker,” came a frustrated voice from Jonas. “You’ve been nothing but trouble since I met you.”
I surveyed this good-looking boy before me, remembering the way his heart was beating frantically against my shirt. “You were worried about me.”
“Who wouldn’t be worried about someone falling twenty feet out of a tree?”
“I’m not just someone, Jonas.”
Amy Levy was gliding back and forth across the pine-scented linoleum floor practicing graceful ballet moves. I followed her with my eyes.
“You’re right, Jessie, you’re not just someone,” Jonas said. “You’re a little pain in the ass who thinks it’s funny to shock people. It’s not funny. Especially when something could happen to you. Isn’t it enough I have to worry about my dad? Do I have to worry about losing you too?”
Amy was on her toes. Her arms were lifted high above her head. The sound of Jonas’s voice brought her arms down by her sides.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, an attempt to shake the insensitivity out of me.
Amy had found her place beside us again, the measured stride replacing the fluid motions. Jonas’s scolding had restrained both of us. Nobody dared speak as our sullen trio reached the nearest elevator.
The tree house debacle eluded me, as did the idea of owning my own personally furnished fun house. These plans were put on hiatus for now. When we reached his father’s room, we were told that Adam was stabilized. I didn’t know which made me happier—Adam’s improvement or Jonas not wanting to lose me.
“Thank you for coming,” Adam said to me, his words slow and hushed. Rachel Levy was writing the names of those who had sent flowers and gifts, Jonas and Amy were listening to a new album released by the label, and I was busy lining up the hundreds of cards from well wishers, taking my time to read the names of the famous rock stars. In my hands was a rare assortment of priceless autographs. I wondered what would become of them and how inappropriate it would be for me to ask to have a few of the signed inscriptions.
We had finished the cake and Adam had polished off a small glass of wine. The doctor assessed that it couldn’t make Adam any sicker than he already was, so he toasted to his family, and to me, and we cheered.
“Why aren’t you off somewhere celebrating your birthday?” he whispered.
“Shhh, it’s your day today,” I answered.
The doctor walked in and all of our heads turned in his direction. Sensing something about to happen, Mrs. Levy escorted Amy out of the room while Jonas engrossed himself in conversation with Dr. Missed Opp. I turned to Adam Levy and the words came flying out of my mouth. “He died today.”
He looked at me like I had taken the wind out of his already lifeless sails. With an effort I hadn’t seen in recent weeks, he took my hand in his. “So that’s why you don’t care about your birthday. Now I understand.” He took a breath and added, “I’m not leaving just yet.”
“I know,” I said, and I believed those words because I never in a million years thought I could be so cursed.
“Your visits have meant a lot to me, Jessie, to all of us, for that matter. You’ve been the angel shining over us.”
“I told you before, I’m no angel.” I laughed, shrugging off his comment.
“And you and Jonas seem to be getting along nicely. I saw the two of you outside.”
“Oh that, that was nothing. I was climbing the tree and lost my balance. Jonas caught me before I hit the ground.”
“It looked a lot more serious than that.”
“It was nothing, really.”
“I saw. It wasn’t nothing.”
“H
e’s okay,” I said, my eyes resisting his. “He can be a bit of a nuisance at times.”
“Are you talking about me again, Parker?” Jonas asked, taking a break from his conversation with the doctor.
“You obviously identify with the word nuisance,” I called out.
Adam added, “You two are like magnets who can’t get away from each other.”
I turned to him. “I know what you’re implying.”
“I’m not implying anything. Unless you want me to.”
I shook my head.
“Did you read our horoscope today?” he asked.
“Of course,” I responded.
“No, this one,” he said, pointing to the New York Post that lay strewn at the foot of his bed. I took the paper in my hand, turned to the last page, and zeroed in on If Today Is Your Birthday. I could have sworn it said the same thing in the Times, until I got to the last line. The year ahead is one of great decision and great love. Search inside yourself, beyond wishes and dreams, for what it is you want. Only you have the answers. That, I hadn’t seen before.
“What do you think it means?” I asked.
“I think it means that a bunch of us Geminis have some soul-searching ahead of us this year.” But I knew it was a sign of something that I didn’t yet understand. I glanced down at my watch and took that as a sign that it was time for me to go. I kissed Adam Levy on the cheek and started to leave when I remembered. “Wait,” I said, “I forgot to give you this.”
I handed him the gift I had wrapped in tin foil. His weakened hands couldn’t manage the paper, so I opened it for him. There were tapes, compilations of all my favorite songs. When he popped them into his boom box and heard the array of melodies I’d put together, he would then understand the part of me I wanted him to have.
When I ventured forth into my house one hour later than expected, my mother’s face and her distinctive signs of being irate were predictable. Nor was I oblivious to Beth’s forceful gaze—partly curious, partly agitated—for having to entertain my mother and her latest date. Others were there as well, there to celebrate my grand old sweet sixteen—Cynthia, a nurse my mother worked with who had sometimes babysat for me when I was a kid, and the Millers, this nice couple that moved in next door.
After surveying me in an accusatory manner, my mother motioned for me to go to my room and “make myself presentable,” whatever that meant. I glared at the oversized man sitting beside her. Unable to ward off my stare, he turned his head away abruptly. If I had a paper plate, I would have written across the middle, “Zero.”
I entered my room with a coolness and ease that had evaded me today, except for the time spent with Jonas’s family. I was barely gone from them an hour and I was still going over the afternoon in my head, wishing it didn’t have to end. Attempts at enjoying the rest of the day were failing, as I’d given in to the realization that maybe I didn’t belong here, maybe I belonged somewhere else.
I flicked on the radio to drown out the absurdity of my thoughts. Swingout Sister was singing “Breakout” on the radio, and I sang along. I would have holed up in my room and watched Sixteen Candles for the seventeenth time, but I knew I was required to fulfill my birthday duties, which included eating cake and being merry.
The voices from outside my door were getting louder and louder, creeping their way into my personal space. I turned up the volume on the stereo and began rummaging for something to wear, when I saw myself in the mirror across the room. Clad in nothing but underpants and a bra, I studied my reflection. Mom said I had grown into my height that summer. I wasn’t as gawky, “less like a filly,” she said. My hair was the longest it had ever grown, layers of dark blonde passing my shoulders, and even my nose didn’t jut out as much. Regal, I thought. Which brought the focus to my hazel eyes, speckled in green and gold. The bra comes in very handy, I laughed to myself. There really wasn’t anything there to hold up, but it crossed my mind that if you wish for it, it will come. In this case, I just wanted to be prepared.
Settling on a white tank top and a long, blue skirt, I took one last look at myself in the mirror and decided that other than still being flat as a pancake, I didn’t look so bad. I was tanned from the walks to the hospital, and with the white shirt against my skin, the tan seemed richer and deeper. I’d even thrown on some lipstick, something I never wore, but being sixteen now, it seemed like it was time.
My mother noticed my new look right away, and I could tell she was pleased with what she saw. I held up the watch she had bought me, wearing it proudly on my wrist. She had accomplished what she’d intended, the happy-go-lucky family complete with a man by her side. Seeing her seated there in her glory, smitten with her efforts, I felt guilty for not being able to enjoy myself. She did look happy though, happier than I’d seen her in recent years on recent birthdays. She noticed my gaze and smiled up at me from her seat on the couch beside the oversized man that resembled Paul Bunyan. She signaled for me to come join them, and it took much of my resolve not to defy her in her moment of pure bliss. I crossed the room. Then the doorbell rang.
My mother and I immediately found each other’s eyes. Beth continued chattering with Cynthia. The song on the radio ended and cut to a commercial. Paul Bunyan sipped his beer, oblivious to my mother’s uneasiness. Mom and I stared at our front door. I’m sure she was about to faint at the sound that had brought her to her knees twelve years before, so since I was closest to the door, I ran to it; and without asking who was there, I swung it open.
“Happy birthday, Jessie,” they said in unison.
I was too amazed to speak, and the shock on my face propelled my mother across the room, no sign of any graceful flitting, until she saw who it was. “Jonas and Amy!” she called out.
“I’m glad someone’s happy to see us, Mrs. Parker,” said Jonas, in his smooth kiss-ass way. Ordinarily this would have rattled me, but I was happy to see him. So happy I couldn’t even look at him.
“Hey, Amy,” I said, welcoming them into our home that had now become even smaller than it was before.
“Why didn’t you tell us it was your birthday?” she asked, stealing the question right out from Jonas’s parted lips.
“Yeah, Jessie,” he taunted. “Why did you keep the big birthday a secret? Being the attention seeker I know you to be, I can’t believe you didn’t want to bask in the spotlight.”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you, Jonas, all those stupid things that come flying out of your mouth.”
“Happy birthday,” he said as he swept past me, stopping only to lean in and offer a soft, delicious kiss on my cheek. “You mean stupid things like that?”
Amy joined Beth and Cynthia on the floor in front of the television, where they were watching one of my favorites, Valley Girl. The best part was coming up, when Nicholas Cage shows up at Deborah Foreman’s door at the end of the movie.
“This is some party,” Jonas exclaimed, managing to further humiliate me. “Where are all your friends?” he asked. “Is that Beth?”
I wanted to jump out in front of her so he couldn’t see how beautiful she was, but he was too quick. He liked what he saw and so did she. I knew this because in an instant my best friend metamorphosized before my eyes, and the Jonas I’d known for the last however many weeks acted as if he’d never seen a girl before. After the introductions, I watched them flirt the way the boys and girls did at school, foolishly laughing in between nods of agreement. I don’t think either one of them was fully comprehending what the other one was saying. People usually don’t when they first meet. They’re either too busy in their minds sizing each other up, or they’re focusing on themselves and whether they have any likeability.
In just ten minutes, I learned more about Jonas than I had the entire time I’d known him. And you know what I mean when I say that. I knew Jonas, but how do I explain this, I knew him mentally, emotionally. It wasn’t about words with us. It never had been. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know that he was a huge Lakers fan, because I
knew things far greater and far more intimate. So, why’d it bother me that he was talking to Beth about their starting lineup and their mutual admiration for Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and about her trip to London last summer, and how he had been planning to travel to Italy this summer—Italian food was his favorite—when his father got sick, and what a coincidence, Beth’s parents just got back from Italy? I was fuming.
As if my birthday couldn’t get any worse, a discouraging thought evolved, and I was starting to see that the larger-than-life friendship with Jonas wasn’t a friendship at all. There were so many things about him I didn’t know, things about him he never wanted to share with me. It felt like I had been punched in the stomach, hard.
“Why you so quiet?” he asked, finished with Beth and circling around me like a shark.
“Oh, nothing,” I responded, thinking about how my best friend is flirting with this guy and I don’t even know what he means to me, but he must mean something because this is really, really getting to me, not to mention that he’s seven, well, now, six years older than I am and probably views me as nothing more than a prepubescent. “Nothing at all,” I repeated again, willing myself to believe that with a smile.
“Sweet sixteen,” he said aloud, in this acerbic tone I detested. “Does that mean in your case sweet sixteen and never been kissed?”
I glared at him, permeating such a look it didn’t require any words to follow.
Then I couldn’t resist, looking him squarely in the eyes. “Asshole.”
“I guess I’m right about the never-been-kissed part. No one would want to kiss a mouth like that.”
“Did you come here just to bother me?”
I noticed out of the corner of my eye that my mother was switching the station on the stereo. I had the inclination to run over and stop her, being fiercely protective of the radio dial; but Jonas was lurking by my side, and he was blocking my path. The short-lived attraction between him and Beth was evidently just that, and she had resumed her position in front of the TV. Maybe I’d imagined the friendliness between them, maybe I was freakishly jealous. I didn’t know. I guess I’d hoped he’d disappear somewhere so I could collect my thoughts again, refocus, but instead he just stood there with this stupid shit-eating grin on his face. My mother had just turned off my favorite Bon Jovi song, and I wondered if she saw the look of fury I hurled in her direction.
What We Leave Behind Page 6