I tried to decide if he was making fun of me. He didn’t sound like it. He seemed sincere. Eventually, he stopped staring at my head and looked me in the eyes. “But I liked you without it too.”
I stared back. “Thanks.”
Right then a little blue shoe hit him in the back of the head. Thump.
The children shrieked with laughter.
Calvin looked surprised, but he calmly turned around, picked up the shoe and handed it to the embarrassed father, who apologized and then spoke sternly to the children. Calvin turned back to me and rubbed his head.
“Written anything lately?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. I started something new yesterday. But it’s not a poem, it’s a story.”
“Really? What’s it about?”
“My summer. It’s been kind of a weird one.”
He gave me a half smile. “Mine too.”
The boy, who was obviously ignoring his father, climbed up onto one of the chairs and, in a pirate voice, announced to his sister that she was going to have to walk the plank. The girl screamed and tried to run between Calvin’s legs.
“I was here before,” Calvin said over the noise. He stepped aside for the little girl. “Two other times. You weren’t working.”
He’d been back here twice? To see me?
“Avast ye, mateys!” the little boy said. “It’s the dirty Spaniards! To the cannons!” I ducked. Another shoe whizzed by Calvin’s ear. The children laughed. I guess they’d decided we were the Spanish Armada.
“Yikes!” Calvin said. He held up his hand to protect his head.
The father grabbed the children, one under each arm, and put them in the corner. I handed the shoe back to the poor man. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Really.”
I smiled my biggest, sweetest smile. “It’s no problem. Gary shouldn’t be long. Would you like some water?”
“Kind of a dangerous job,” Calvin said when I came back.
I leaned on the counter and grinned. “All in a day’s work.” After another silence I said, “So, why are you here?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“You do? What about?”
There was yet another awkward silence. He put his hands in his pockets and kind of swayed anxiously back and forth before he finally spoke again.
“I … uh, Melanie and I broke up.”
“You did? Why?”
And even more curiously, why was he telling me?
He glanced at the desk, the wall behind me, anywhere but at me. Then all of a sudden he took his hands out of his pockets, leaned across the counter and kissed me. I was so surprised. My first real kiss was soft and sweet. The whole thing only lasted a few seconds, but in my mind I’ve relived it at least a thousand times. An instant later I found myself staring at him, wide-eyed. He looked nervously back at me.
“Calvin, why did you do that?”
“I’ve been thinking of doing it for a long time.”
“But what about what you said? I’m only thirteen, remember? And you’re going to be a sophomore.”
He shrugged. “I know. But you’ll be a freshman when I’m a junior, right?”
I nodded.
That’s when the door opened and a young couple with twin babies dressed in frilly pink outfits entered and stood waiting for me. At the same time, the family Gary had been photographing charged back into the waiting area.
“Look,” Calvin said over the sudden increase in noise, “I know you have to work. Thing is, I keep thinking about you, Floey. I’d really like to see you sometime.”
I was so shocked that for a moment I couldn’t speak.
Still standing in the corner, his head leaning against the wall, the little boy started singing a song:
“Give me a snot sandwich on a dirty dish,
French fried worms and a side of dead fish.”
I pulled myself together. “A week from tomorrow there’s another poetry night. I was thinking about going.”
“Good. Great. See you there, then.”
The little girl laughed and joined in the song with her brother.
“Frogs that squish and bugs that crunch—
That’s what I want for lunch!”
A moment later, the door opened and closed, and with a wave through the window, Calvin was gone. I barely heard the new family give me their names. I could have risen right off the floor and floated away.
But then I had a sudden terrible thought.
I wanted to ignore it, but after only a few seconds I just couldn’t.
With the family still standing right in front of me, I stepped out from behind the desk and ran to the door. By that time, Calvin was a few cars into the parking lot.
“Calvin!” I called. He turned around. “What made you send me that note—the one with the haiku? Did you write it because of the Web site?”
“Web site? What do you mean?”
“You don’t know anything about it?”
He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I wasn’t sure if I should believe him. I tried to see if there was anything in his face or his posture that might give him away.
But then I got ahold of myself.
I was thinking too much again. Hadn’t he just told me he didn’t know about the Web site? He seemed sincere, didn’t he? And hadn’t he come to the studio three times just to see me? And even if he had read my diary, he was gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous. So who cared?
This Zen cowboy was my Zen cowboy.
If he was interested in me, who was I to object?
And most importantly, I believed him.
Now, that’s enlightenment.
On Monday afternoon I didn’t know what to do with myself. In the end I went out to the backyard, lay down in the grass and stared up at the sky. I had a lot to think about. So many changes all at once.
At the airport only two days before, I’d waved to Tish as she walked with Richard and Aunt Sarah through the gate. I’m terrible at goodbyes. It’d been harder than I thought it would be.
And then there was this morning.
After Helmut had staggered down the stairs with my sister’s gigantic suitcases, Lillian had hugged my mother and me, tears streaming down her face. I knew she wasn’t really sad, though. She and Helmut looked happy. We’d visit them soon enough, I knew. And then they’d pulled out of our driveway and headed toward New York and the rest of their lives.
As I stared up at the sky, I missed my sister so much it almost hurt. But I was glad for her. Really, I was.
I was glad for me, too. It seemed like Azra and Wen and I were friends again. Not only that, but I was pretty sure I had a boyfriend. Only this time I wasn’t going to tell anyone about it until I was absolutely positive.
In his outside harness, Frank Sinatra nuzzled around happily on my stomach. At least he wasn’t leaving my life just yet. After he’d nipped Helmut’s hand, Ma had suggested that Lillian leave him with me—at least until she and Helmut got settled into their new apartment. Lillian had reluctantly agreed.
I’d brought my diary, and now I took it out.
Monday, July 28, 3:15 p.m.
To the Extraordinary Floey Packer,
I still believe in you. Wallpaper or not, whoever you turn out to be, I know you’ll be special and remarkable. Even though I don’t have everything figured out yet, I know if I stick around long enough you’ll eventually show up. Not that I’m just going to sit around until you do. While I’m waiting, I have a few new things I want to try.
For starters, I’m going to see what Chicago’s like.
After that, maybe I’ll write a book.
Yours expectantly,
Floey
For a while the ferret and I both stared up at the blue sky and white clouds. Suddenly, my mother’s face blocked the view.
“There you are,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“I’ve been right here.”
After a moment,
she sat down next to me in the grass. “So it’s just you and me now. How does it feel?”
“Weird,” I said.
She nodded and looked away. Her fingers pulled softly at the grass. Finally, she smiled and said, “I’m sure we’ll both get used to it.”
Then I remembered that Gary had offered to take us to the movies. I’d told him I didn’t want to go, but I figured Ma would.
“Are you and Gary going out tonight?”
She shook her head. “I took a rain check. Tonight I have a special quiet evening planned, just for us. What do you say we sit and talk over sushi?”
“Sounds great,” I said, surprised. “I’d like that.” But she wasn’t done. I could tell from her face that there was more. “And then?”
She grinned and held up a DVD. Viva Las Vegas, another Elvis favorite.
I smiled.
I guess some things never change.
About the Author
Mark Peter Hughes was born in Liverpool, England, but grew up in the coastal town of Barrington, Rhode Island. He attributes his ability to write from a female perspective to growing up in a house dominated by “an extroverted mother and two wildly verbal sisters who rarely showed any shyness about expressing whatever was on their minds.”
As a teenager, Mark worked in many different jobs: gas station attendant, fast-food zombie, beach sticker enforcer, dishwasher (“I was fired after only two days”), clam factory worker (“this was the smelliest of jobs—my sisters avoided me all summer”), and movie theater usher, among others. A former member of a local alternative rock band, he was once kicked out of eighth-grade music class for throwing a spitball.
He left Rhode Island to attend the University of Rochester, where he earned a degree in engineering with a minor in creative writing. Mark now lives in Wayland, Massachusetts, with his wife, Karen, and their three small children: Evan, Lucía, and Zoe. He has written stories ever since he can remember.
Check out Mark’s Web site at www.markpeterhughes.com.
* “Floey Packer, thirteen, bursts right off the page with an engaging vivacity. First-time author Hughes merits a place with Louise Rennison, Ellen Conford, and even Paula Danziger on the fiction shelves.”
—School Library Journal, Starred
A Readers Guide
Questions for Discussion
On this page, Floey declares to her diary, “The days of the invisible, ordinary, wallpaper Floey Packer are over. Tonight marks the birth of a whole new me.” Why does Floey decide to change herself? Compare the way she feels at the beginning of her sister Lillian’s wedding day with the way she feels at the end. Have you ever felt as if there’s something about you that you’d like to change?
Describe Floey’s relationships with her mother and her sister. As Lillian is getting married, what different emotions do you think her mother might have? How about Lillian herself? How do their actions suggest these emotions to you?
Friendships play an important role in the book. Compare Floey’s friendships with Azra, Wen, and Calvin. What do you think each friend provides that makes him or her unique?
What role does Zen Buddhism play in Floey’s transformation? Do you think Floey truly comprehends the concepts introduced? How does her behavior demonstrate her understanding, or lack of understanding, of Zen?
When Floey discovers floeysprivatelife.com, how does she, as the “new” Floey, react? How do you think the “old” Floey might have responded? Have you ever kept a diary? What would you do if it was exposed to the public?
Discuss what Richard sets in motion with his part in creating floeysprivatelife.com. Is he justified in getting back at Floey this way? Can you imagine different results of the site’s creation and popularity? Do you think Richard understands what he is doing to Floey by exposing her in this way?
On this page, in the chapter title, Floey describes her cousins as “children from hell.” Do you think this characterization is justified? How would you describe Floey’s initial behavior toward her cousins? Do you think her treatment of them affects what happens to her later?
On this page and this page, Floey reflects on the way she feels about her cousins leaving. She decides she’ll miss Tish, and she wonders about Richard, “Would I miss him, too? Probably not.” How accurate do you think Floey’s prediction is? Is she being overly harsh about Richard, or just honest?
How has Floey changed by the end of the book? Has she become the kind of person she intended to turn into when she first envisioned the “new” Floey? Do you think her goals for herself have changed?
Floey concludes the book with the observation “I guess some things never change” (this page). What do you think will change for Floey in the coming school year? What will happen to her friendships with Wen, Azra, and Calvin?
A Conversation with Mark Peter Hughes
Q: I Am the Wallpaper is written from the perspective of Floey Packer, a thirteen-year-old girl. Never having been a thirteen-year-old girl, how did you conceive of Floey’s voice? What made you want to write from the point of view of the opposite sex?
A: I didn’t actually set out with the goal of writing from the point of view of a girl. The novel grew out of a short story I wrote in college in which a teenager feels humiliated by having to sit at the children’s table during her sister’s wedding reception. But it was Floey’s tenacious character that appealed to me and made me want to pursue her story, not the fact that she was a girl. As I was writing, it didn’t occur to me that it might be seen as an unusual perspective for me to write from. I was just working on a story about a character I found interesting. If I got any of the girl-specific details right, it may have been partly because I grew up with two sisters.
As for how I found Floey’s voice, I spent a lot of time writing out her diary. I probably wrote hundreds of pages, very little of which actually ended up in the book. But it was an important step because that was how I eventually discovered who she was.
Q: Did you ever keep a diary?
A: Yes, but only in intermittent periods throughout my childhood. One problem was that I worried that one of my sisters might discover it and read whatever I’d written. In fact, that scenario never actually happened, but it was a concern. Also, I never had the discipline to keep up the routine of writing down my thoughts on a daily basis.
Q: Tell us about Floey’s writing. Why haiku?
A: Haiku are wonderful because they can squeeze so much into so little. They’re tiny nuggets capable of expressing giant thoughts or deep emotions. But with only a few syllables to work with, every word has to count. I guess that’s why I felt that Floey, who starts the novel with a lot to say but feeling like she doesn’t keep anybody’s attention for long, would naturally gravitate to haiku as a way of documenting the various steps in her personal journey as she tries to reach for something higher. Plus, they’re a lot of fun to write.
Q: And the idea of a private diary made public over the Internet?
A: That came from thinking about how we all value our privacy even though we live in a hyperconnected new world where it can be so very easy (too easy, perhaps) to share information with strangers through technology. I think a lot of people are only just beginning to realize some of the implications—how powerful an effect this new technology can have on our lives, both good and bad.
Q: There’s been a lot of talk in the press recently about cyberbullying, kids using instant messages, e-mail, and the Internet to bully classmates. Do you think Floey’s experience qualifies as cyberbullying? Why do you think she decides to handle it as she does, without telling any parents or authorities?
A: Absolutely this qualifies as cyberbullying. What Billy and Richard do is truly creepy. I wanted that creepiness to be reflected in the story. I wanted to suggest how vulnerable our own personal information can be in cyberspace, while not taking the story into the darker direction it could have gone under different circumstances. I think Floey recognizes the seriousness of the situation, though, and understands the
kind of trouble the boys could get into. When she chooses to address the situation on her own, I think she makes that decision partly out of a sense of guilt for the way she treated her cousins when they arrived, partly because of the developing connection she already feels with Tish, and partly because, as terribly as the boys have behaved, on some level Floey recognizes that they’re just little kids. In Floey’s case, this go-it-alone approach ends up working out. But certainly if anybody experiences real-life cyberbullying I would urge them to consider seeking outside help.
Q: Zen Buddhism plays a big role in Floey’s conversion into the “new” Floey. How do you think it helps her cope with all the terrible things she learns over the course of the summer? What made you want to include Zen Buddhism as the guiding light in Floey’s transformation?
A: I’m fascinated by Zen Buddhism but I’m not an expert on it and neither is Floey. And perhaps that’s the point. Reaching out and trying something unfamiliar is a surefire pathway to personal growth. Floey makes an active decision to step out of herself and become something new. The constructs of Zen—the ideas of connectedness and karma and impermanence and meditation—present her with an intriguing new framework for approaching complicated questions and thinking about life in general. To me it’s not important whether she pursues it further in her life. What’s important is that for right now, for this summer, it helps her frame her situation and envision the possibilities.
Q: What are you working on now? Will Floey turn up in another novel, or will you revisit the town of Opequonsett?
A: Yes, Opequonsett, Rhode Island, is also the setting for my next novel, Lemonade Mouth. And yes, Floey does make a brief appearance. Lemonade Mouth is about five high school outcasts who meet in detention, decide to form the weirdest band ever, and then try to change the world. It’s told from five different perspectives, one of which is the perspective of Wen from I Am the Wallpaper. Music has always played an important part in my life, as has the state of Rhode Island. I especially love the weird little details about the place. For example, did you know that Rhode Island is the home of the Ukulele Hall of Fame? How cool is that?
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