Through the Lens

Chapter 1: Iris

Her name was Jannie. Jannie Michaels. She was my best friend. Key word, was. Now, I stand beside her younger sister Carley and hold her hand as she sobs beside her parents, watching Jannie’s coffin lower into the cold depths of the Earth. I always knew Jannie and I would be best friends with each other until death, but never did I imagine it would be the winter of sophomore year. She was only 16. The foggy graveyard was nothing but a creepy site of mourning over the terrible loss everyone here had just faced. Even my boyfriend, or shall I say, my ex, bothered to show up and pay his respects on this dreary January morning. This town is small, so word travels fast. The typical community of people who can respect one another while also silently backstabbing them and slitting their throats. Everyone has to be perfect, otherwise they are misfits who struggle to gain any sense of having a “good” reputation. As for those who already have a “good” reputation in town, they will do anything to keep it that way. Of course, this is amongst the teenagers, as for the parents, they are oblivious to this social hierarchy and the injustices their children face in some way because they are wrapped up in battling each other over who has the best child.

Jannie Michaels was far from the ideal image teenagers hold in this town for popularity. However, she held the approval of most adults in town. She was smart, genuinely kind, and involved in the church. As for me, I was ranked lower among teenagers and parents, by a vast amount, for several reasons. But this day isn’t about my “problems” or “rebellious behavior,” it’s a day meant for Jannie. Remembering her, cherishing her deeds, and promising to never forget our friendship. I grew up with her as my sister. Now my sister is being laid in a hole in the ground and covered by dirt to rest in peace. I like to think she will be an angel watching over me soon, just as she basically had here on Earth.

I decided to not bring her roses or another basic flower since I knew that wasn’t what she would want. Instead, I brought her marigolds. They reminded her of summer and they remind me of her. A ray of sunshine who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Why did she have to leave me behind? How do I see the light anymore? No wonder another meaning for this flower is grieving and mourning. When you loose someone as good as Jannie who deserved better from the world, how can you make sense of it? I will never be able to understand why.

Chapter 2: Caleb

Today is the day I have to deliver fifteen bouquets of white roses to the Evergreen Clubhouse Ballroom, where the family and friends of Jannie Michaels will gather for an awkward reception after her funeral to grieve together for her loss. I love helping my mom out at her shop, but delivering bouquets of roses to funerals is probably the one aspect of helping out my mother that I hate to do. My mom is a single mom who works nonstop at her flower shop to provide for us. Flowers are great at being able to tell what kind of person people are in this town. A bouquet of white roses, funeral. A bouquet of pink or red roses, Valentine’s Day in the most boring basic way between two people looking for a white picket fence kind of life. Orchids, house decoration. Also, basic. You can tell how dense or deep people are based off of the flowers they get and why. A simple house decoration is meaningless, but buying flowers for someone conveys emotions that run deep. Yes, I am not the average guy. But who wants to be? My mom taught me everything I know, so why wouldn’t I cherish it when it is all clearly true?

Hauling these basic roses with the help of Mateo was not too bad, but standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the pristine Evergreen Club was not what I wanted to be doing. Clipboard and pen in hand, ready to awkwardly avoid the gaze of the sobbing mourners as I tried to complete this job as quickly as humanly possible. Of course, right now it wouldn’t be too bad since the reception has not started, but the family helping set up and friends are not ones to get into small talk with. That small talk will quickly snowball into the sobbing mess I do not want to try and comfort. Chances are, they are the typical rose kind of people if they are getting white roses. I duck my head down and walk straight into the ballroom and hook a left towards the crowd I was assuming was the family based on the snot, tears, and tissues in the woman’s hands. I needed her signature, but I do not want to interrupt. This is going great. I walked straight up to her husband instead, who was comforting her while silently crying himself, and pointed at the “Evelyn’s Florals” embroidered into my shirt. He nodded and came over to me to sign off that I could begin my fast hauling.

“Iris, do you mind showing him where to go for us? We… we need a moment,” he said while directing his wife towards the hallway to get some air outside. I turn towards the recipient to see who would be directing me.

“Follow me,” she said. My God. Her voice was pure and angelic and I had never heard any simple two words that made me feel like I was touching silk. Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for me. Her long dark brown hair was highlighted with hues of dark purples midway through, matching her unique name. Her eyes were a dark blue that were so deep and vast I felt like I was lost and drifting alone in the ocean.

“Okay,” I replied as she turned around to lead me down the hallway to another ballroom. I wanted to hear her speak, again, but I did not want to ruin my no small talk rule. If she is here, then she is grieving.

“I don’t know why they chose white roses,” she suddenly explained, “Jannie wouldn’t want such basic flowers here.”

I was shocked. Someone else who agreed? In this lousy town?

“What flowers would you choose for her?” I asked.

“I left her marigolds.”

“That’s an interesting choice. Marigolds. I like it.”

“You aren’t going to ask why?” She turned back and raised her eyebrow at me almost playfully, but without smiling.

“I’m assuming whoever she was, she was a great person you had by your side that was positive? Yellows and oranges combined together in a circle that represent the power of the sun and the light inside someone. Jannie must have been a light in the world and now you are mourning the loss of that light. That is the power of the marigold. So,” I stare at her intently, “Was I right?”

She stopped walking in her tracks no longer facing me. Shit, I broke the rule. I was about to deal with someone crying. I do not know how to help comfort someone when they are crying.

“That is the best thing I have heard, yet, today. Thanks,” She looked back, again, and slightly smiled, “Jannie would have liked your response, too.”

Again, this girl, Iris, left me speechless. All that was left to say was, “No problem.”

(To Be Continued)