Chapter 3: Let silence rain down on us.
Homeschooling wasn't bad... I guess. I just really wished that it was my mom and not Mrs. Jonas. Her boys were crazy. Way too crazy. The work was easy. Noise level was... 5 decibels too loud. And I apparently was too quiet.
*Flashback*
DING-DONG.
My mother stood on the Jonases porch impatiently fearing to miss her flight. I stood, a few feet behind her, off of the porch, waiting and now wanting someone to open the door.
And yet to my dicouragement, Mrs. Jonas opened the door.
"Hey! How are you?" she asked in a kind manner. My mohter put on that fake smile of hers and answered her, yet reminding us of her "oh-so important" business trip.
She kissed me gently on my forehead, got into her car, and drove off. I stepped into the Jonas household. The air fragranced of a light vanilla. The rooms were averaged sized, furnished, with the walls painted and decorated. Three teenage boys came running down the steps, or should I say, stumbling down the steps. One little boy traped as fast as he could in his brothers' footsteps. Shouts rose from another room and Mrs. Jonas looked at me shocked and puzzled.
"They're usually never this rowdy." she said in a questioning tone. I didn't drop a word for only silence fell in the perfected room.
The woman fast-walked into the other room where I'm assuming she found the boys.
"Joe took my socks! I didn't say that he could have them!" one shouted.
"What's the deal? You're more than welcome to use a pair of my socks!" This came from the one I imagined was Joe, the sock thief.
"Joe, give Nick his socks back," demanded Mrs. Jonas. I took the hint that I was allowed to make myself at home. I dropped my purse on the carpet, unleaced my Converse, and set them near my bag. Approaching the room of madness, I found myself 2 boys glaring at each other over a pair of socks, and older boy who decided to play with the youngest and his stuffed animals, and Mrs. Jonas.
"Mom! These socks, they're so-"
"I don't care Joseph. Take them off, give them to Nick, and find your own pair of socks."
"But mine are all dirty." Joe said taking off his brother's socks.
"That's why you bring your hamper down." Nick retrieved his socks, and all eyes were on me.
"Boys, remember the guest I told you we'd be having? Her name is Maybelle."
"Or May for short." I let out. The oldest picked himself up, startling me with a handshake.
"I'm Kevin."
Next was the sock thief in his bare feet. "I'm Joseph, or Joe for short, nice to meet ya," he said revealing a wide smile burdened with so much energy and releasing his rough but gentle hand.
Next walked the one that I'd labeled as "Nick". If it hadn't been for the sock incident, I would have looked him over as one of the most shy people I'd ever graced my eyes upon. He walked up to me, with timid eyes, and a small smiled. "Uh, I'm Nick," he said. He seemed a little distant, as if his spirit were not in the room. As if something was to dwell on. The little boy continued to sit in the floor and keep his focus on his stuffed animals, while his older brothers stood out of their way, whole-heartedly laughing at Nick's gesture.
"Franklin, aren't you going to say hi to our guest?" Mrs. Joans asked.
"Hey," he said without looking up from his stuffed animals. Mrs Jonas rolled her eyes, in a halfway surrender saying, "May, meet Frankie." I bent down on my hands and knees, and concentrated on the little boy before me. He sat in the same position I did, his hands controlling the soft objects across the carpet.
"Whatcha palying with?" I asked ina a sarcastic "curious" tone.
"Webkinz." he blankly stated. Well I got something out of the kid, I thought.
*end Flashback*
Throughout the first day, whispers lifted and pranced around the room. That day, the only thing you unraveled out of me was my introduction.
Being nosy, I'd listened in on the boys whispers, all about me. I was hoping to hear a "She's pretty," or "I like her," rather than "She's too quiet."
During a little break we had for lunch, I ventured off on my own, onto their perfected porch that resembled waht was on the inside of the house. Mrs. Jonas had made a sandwich and invited me to a drink and chips, seeing as my prioritized mother was too busy to think this morning. I sat on the porch, my eyes darting on certain objects of nature. All was as quiet as me, except the birds, except the cars, and except for the door behind me.
