Pon-Pon Page 8

  “Laci and I just never got to that point in our relationship where we needed to make a decision about it and we broke up right before Christmas.”

  “You broke up?”

  “I guess we didn’t really ‘break up’, we just kind of quit seeing each other.”

  “Why?”

  “I just . . . I had a really hard time after Greg died. I pushed everybody away and then I came here to State and Laci went off to Collins and then when we finally did get back together again it was about five months before we were supposed to graduate. We were living four hours apart from each other and there was hardly time to even plan our wedding before we moved to Mexico. It was just kind of obvious that we were going to wait. We never really even thought about it.”

  Okay – maybe I’d thought about it . . .

  “Oh.”

  “But . . . I mean, trust me. If we’d thought about it or talked about it or whatever, I’m pretty sure that we still would have waited.”

  “Really?”

  An image of Laci yelling at me about Tanner and Megan living together flashed through my mind.

  “Yeah,” I said, laughing. “I’m pretty confident that Laci would have seen to it that we waited.”

  Jordan smiled.

  “But that’s what I meant when I said it was different with us. I don’t know . . . I’m sure it would have been a lot harder if we hadn’t been going through all that other stuff.”

  Jordan nodded at me.

  “It’s not just about waiting until you get married. You have to keep your spirit pure and your thoughts pure. That’s something you’re going to have to do for your entire life.”

  Did I just say that?

  “It doesn’t all end just because you get married . . . it’s a different kind of battle, but it’s still a battle.”

  Man, I sounded just like Laci. I hated it when that happened.

  Jordan was quiet for a few moments.

  “I think I’m going to take that pledge this afternoon,” Jordan finally said.

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You don’t have to just because of what I said . . .”

  That’s real good, David. Why don’t you try to talk him out of it?

  “No,” he said. “I think it’s what God wants me to do. I’ve really, really been trying to do what God wants me to do . . . you know what I mean?”

  “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

  “Thanks for talking to me. Tanner doesn’t ever talk to me like you do. Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  It was quiet for a moment until he finally spoke again.

  “Sometimes I worry about Tanner,” he said. “You know what I mean?”

  “Yeah,” I said again. “I know what you mean.”

  I really liked Jordan. I think what I liked most about him was that he didn’t care what anybody else thought of him. As long as he thought he was doing what God wanted him to do it didn’t matter to him what other people might say. Greg had been the same way.

  The reason Greg had always grown his hair out and donated it to Locks of Love was because when he’d moved to town he’d found out that’s what Laci had been doing ever since she was a little girl. He’d thought it was a great idea – so he’d started doing it too. Like Tanner had told Jordan, I’d been absolutely mortified, but Greg didn’t worry about it at all. I don’t think he ever got teased for having long hair, but even if he had he wouldn’t have let that stop him. Greg had also bowed his head every day and prayed in the cafeteria at school too. Not a lot of kids did that.

  Likewise, Jordan did what he thought was right. If the other kids weren’t listening to Christian music he’d just stick his earphones in and ignore them. And most kids don’t sit in the cafeteria with an E.C. teacher learning sign language during lunch.

  Granted we didn’t know anyone at the conference, but I had a feeling that if every person Jordan had known was there he still would have taken that pledge. That’s just the kind of person that he was.

  With only about ten minutes left in our return trip home, Jordan asked if he could skip ahead to a song he said he really wanted to hear. He must have spent a fortune on all those songs he’d bought me . . . we hadn’t even come close to listening to all of them.

  “Go ahead,” I answered and he punched away at the buttons.

  The song he’d wanted to hear turned out to be Casting Crowns’ Every Man – the same song I’d been so glad to hear when we’d been riding to Six Flags just before that girl named Stephanie had changed the station. I must have given Jordan a funny look when I realized what song it was.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’m just surprised that this is the one you wanted to hear, that’s all.”

  “I know it’s kinda old,” he apologized. “But it’s one of my favorites.”

  I really liked Jordan.

  “Of course you do,” Laci said when I told her that.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean he’s just like you! Of course you like him.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s not like me.”

  “He’s practically a little ‘mini-Dave’!”

  “No, he’s not!”

  “Yes, he is! How can you not see that? You’re two of the most reserved people I’ve ever met in my entire life! You’re both so quiet around people you don’t know and you’ve both got the same dry sense of humor . . .”

  I guess I could see some similarities if I looked at it that way; but there was something very different about Jordan – something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  I spent the next few weeks trying to figure out what it was.

  As Laci had said, I wasn’t a terribly social person, and neither was Jordan, but I’d always had friends . . . close friends.

  Jordan, on the other hand, didn’t seem to. Instead he had acquaintances . . . people he knew from school or guys he played baseball with or something like that. He was friendly with them and everybody seemed to like him well enough, but he didn’t seem to have any real friends. I never heard him talk about anybody and I never saw him doing anything with other people. As a matter of fact, he spent most of his free time with me, doing math.

  I mean what kind of kid spends all of his free time doing math?

  Okay. I realize that coming from me that probably sounds like a strange question since I’d spent plenty of time doing math when I was his age, but that was a totally different situation.

  For one thing, I’d always enjoyed math and I was good at it. Jordan (on the other hand) hated math and struggled with it all the time. Why would he work so hard in math? Was it because he had to make a ‘C’ or better in order to stay on the baseball team? Was it because he wanted good enough grades to get into college? I didn’t think so; he could have done that just by coming over once or twice a week. He didn’t have to come over every day and work for two hours each night.

  Another reason it was different was because of Greg. Greg had set some pretty high goals for himself: he’d wanted to get into one of the best engineering schools in the country and become an engineer. He had to work hard in math if he wanted to succeed and he’d sucked me right in with him. It became something we did together . . . for us it was almost social. On the surface that may sound weird, but if you think about it, you tend to find ways to spend as much time as you can with the people that you like best.

  And there it was.

  Jordan was trying to find ways to spend time with me.

  It didn’t have anything to do with math and it didn’t have anything to do with youth group.

  It had to do with the fact that Jordan acted as if I was the best (or only) friend that he had.

  ~ ~ ~

  JORDAN NEEDS SOME friends his own age,” I told Laci.

  “I’m sure he has friends his own age.”

  “Like who?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I don’t know who his friends
are, but I’m sure he has some.”

  “If he had friends don’t you think we’d know about them? He’s over here all the time. Don’t you think he’d talk about ’em every now and then and we’d know their names?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I don’t think it’s good for a sixteen-year-old kid to be hanging around at his youth group leader’s house all the time.”

  “You were over at the White’s all the time,” she argued.

  “To see Greg!” I protested. “I wasn’t over there to visit with Mr. or Mrs. White or to play with Charlotte!”

  She thought for a moment.

  “But you’re helping Jordan with his math . . .”

  “He doesn’t need that much help, Laci. Not even you needed that much help.”

  “I’ll have you know that I didn’t need much help at all – I was just looking for an excuse to be with you.”

  “And I think Jordan’s just looking for an excuse to hang out over here because he doesn’t have any friends.”

  “Well, he probably considers you to be his friend.”

  “I know he does . . . that’s what I’m saying. He needs friends his own age. He doesn’t need to be friends with someone who’s ten years older than him and who has a wife and kids.”

  “I wonder why he doesn’t have any friends his own age?”

  I’d been wondering the same thing and I thought I’d figured it out.

  “Jordan’s not your typical teenager,” I said. “I mean, I think it’s pretty unusual for someone his age to be as mature as he is when it comes to his relationship with God.”

  “We were.”

  “We were typical? Come on, Laci. Where’d we go over our spring breaks?”

  “The youth rallies in Chicago . . .”

  “Where do most kids go over their spring breaks?”

  She looked at me.

  “There are lots of kids out there who are like we were,” she said. “They might not all be going to youth rallies over spring break, but they’re not all spending their time getting drunk at Daytona Beach either.”

  “I know, but what I’m saying is that Jordan doesn’t know any of the kids who are like we were.”

  “He knows all the kids in youth group.”

  “Laci! Every kid in that youth group except for Jordan is there because their parents are making them be there. Unless we’re doing something fun like going to Six Flags or something they have to be dragged there. I’m not saying that they’re bad kids or that they don’t love God, but I am saying that they’re just not where Jordan is right now.”

  “Okay,” she conceded. “I can see that.”

  “And I think he wants to be around someone else who’s got a strong relationship with Christ . . . he wants to be able to talk to someone . . . like you and Greg and I were able to do.”

  “That’s understandable,” she agreed.

  “So we’ve got to find him someone,” I said. “Someone else besides me . . . someone his own age.”

  “How in the world are we going to do that?”

  “Simple,” I said, smiling at her because I’d already figured that out too. “I’m going to call Ashlyn.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “WHAT’S WRONG?” ASHLYN asked.

  “Do you always answer the phone like that?”

  “Only when I know it’s you,” she said. “You never call me unless something’s wrong. So what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I said. “Well, not really . . .”

  “I knew it.”

  “I just need some help with this youth group you got me roped into,” I said.

  “How did I get you roped into it?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “All I know is that we invited you over for some lasagna and the next thing I know I’m in charge of the youth group at a church I don’t even belong to.”

  She laughed.

  “So how can I help?”

  “You wanna get together for lunch tomorrow? Laci’ll watch Amelia for you . . .”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Ummm . . . Mexican’s always good unless you’ve had enough Mexican to last you a lifetime.”

  “Mexican’s fine,” I said. “It’s not the same here anyway.”

  We met at eleven-thirty to avoid the lunch crowd.

  “Was Dorito excited to see Amelia?” I asked as we waited to be seated. I’d been in town mailing some documents when she’d dropped her daughter off at our house.

  “Oh yeah,” she nodded.

  “When are you going to give us a playmate for Lily?” I teased.

  “We’re trying.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep,” she smiled.

  I smiled back at her as a waiter put a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa down in front of us.

  “I’m starving,” Ashlyn said, grabbing a chip. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was pregnant right now.”

  “This isn’t going to be like eating with Tanner, is it?”

  “I’ll bet I could give him a run for his money.”

  After another waiter came by and took our order, Ashlyn asked me, “So, what’s up?”

  “Well,” I began, “our youth group is the pits and I need help.”

  “The pits how?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Nobody likes going to youth group . . . I don’t even like going to youth group.”

  “So you want some ideas?”

  “No,” I said. “It’s more than that. They’re just not . . . I don’t know. It’s just a bad mix of kids. They form about three little cliques and poor Jordan’s in a clique all by himself. They don’t have good relationships with each other, you know? Remember how much fun we all had when we were in youth group together? That never happens with these kids . . . never.”

  “Well,” she said, “Mr. White was a really good leader.”

  “Thank you, Ashlyn,” I sighed. “I’m well aware that I’m failing miserably.”

  “No, you’re not,” she laughed. “I’m just kidding. I had a group like that three years ago.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep,” she nodded.

  “So what do I do?”

  “You just get through the end of the year. It’ll be better next year.”

  “Oh, come on, Ashlyn,” I said. “I don’t want to do that.”

  “Well, what else can you do?” she asked. “You can’t make them have fun with each other.”

  “I had an idea . . .”

  “Oh no,” she said and I grinned.

  By the time lunch was over we’d laid the foundation for the greatest Easter pageant ever . . . and our two youth groups were going to collaborate on it for the next ten weeks.

  ~ ~ ~

  ALTHOUGH MOST OF the time I could work from home, sometimes my job required me to travel to areas that had been hit by earthquakes to inspect minimally impacted buildings for structural damage. We’d gotten the youth groups together for play practice one time when I got sent away for what turned out to be three weeks.

  “I’m really sorry, Ashlyn,” I said when I called to tell her I’d be gone for a while. “Laci’s gonna try to help you while I’m gone.”

  “Try?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You’ll see.”

  Actually, Laci managed to make it to every meeting while I was gone. Apparently spending more time with Ashlyn was a better incentive for finding a babysitter than spending more time with me was.

  “Well you’re home all the time,” she said when I called from California and accused her of that.

  “So basically you like it when I go to youth group by myself because it gives you a chance to be away from me.”

  “I didn’t say that!”

  “You didn’t have to,” I teased. “I bet you’re having the time of your life with me halfway across the country.”

  “Oh, stop it.”

  Laci said that putting our you
th groups together was working out fantastic. The kids already knew each other because they went to high school together and the chemistry among them was different once they all got together. Ashlyn was so impressed with the way they interacted that she told Laci we should keep meeting jointly even after the play was over. I told Laci to tell Ashlyn that she had a deal.

  “Guess what happened today?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “I was talking to this guy who works out of Oregon and he started complaining about ‘all the Mexicans’ and how they should all be shot . . .”

  “You’re kidding . . .”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “I said ‘You wanna see a picture of my kids?’ and I pulled out my wallet.”

  “You did not!” Laci gasped.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “He actually didn’t have a whole lot to say after that.”

  She laughed.

  “Tell Lily I love her,” I said. I’d already talked to Dorito. “I wish I could say goodnight to her.”

  “I know,” Laci sighed. We could video chat, but it wasn’t the same.

  I hung up thinking how hard it was not to be able to see Lily for so long and I was thinking about how much I hated not being able to talk to her on the phone. This wasn’t the first time I’d gone to bed thinking these things, but that was the night I decided we really needed to do something about it.

  ~ ~ ~

  WHEN I RETURNED home I was able to see for myself how great the combined youth group was. It was better than I’d hoped for. Not only did the kids seem excited about it, but they all worked together well. Just like Laci had said, the chemistry between them was just . . . different. By the time Easter was five weeks away even I could tell that the pageant was going to be great.