The Keeper of Lost Things

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by Jamie Campbell


  I was thinking about looking into Samantha Gabrielle a little further, though. Movies led me to believe husbands and wives were close, they shared secrets. Maybe she was the holder of my father’s secrets too.

  Anything was possible.

  As we walked, I became aware of a pen laying on the pavement on the upcoming path. It was lost, with nobody around to claim it. I could almost hear it weeping as it thought about a future lost in the drains or never writing something again.

  For only a moment I panicked.

  Then I remembered Frankie was with me. He had seen me take something before, he understood what I had to do. There was no reason to be worried about saving the lost pen.

  We approached it, getting closer and closer until the moment of its rescue was upon us. I bent down to pick it up, slipping the pen into my backpack without missing a beat.

  It was the first time I realized Frankie was completely different to the rest of world.

  It was the second time I wanted him to kiss me.

  It was the third time I felt my heart skip a beat because his arm was so close to mine they brushed together.

  The smile showed all my teeth before I could stop it.

  Chapter 18

  When Frankie had asked me what I was going to do on the weekend as we walked home from school together on Friday, the first thing that came to mind was a lie.

  But the truth slipped out before I could stop it.

  I confessed I was going to follow my stepmother and see if she did anything that wasn’t entirely normal. I had hoped she would lead me straight to her husband. I would see them meeting clandestinely and know the whole thing was a ruse.

  Frankie had insisted on coming with me.

  Which I secretly loved.

  So far, at eight a.m. on the Saturday, the only thing I had learned was that Samantha Gabrielle enjoyed her sleeping in. There had been no movement at the house she shared with my stepsister and father. The whole thing was completely snooze-worthy.

  Thankfully, Frankie brought snacks.

  We chomped on chocolate chip cookies for over an hour before anything happened. Buses came and went from the stop where we sat, nobody bothered to ask us why we weren’t getting on any of them.

  No wonder my father disappeared so easily.

  The door to the house opened mid-morning. Samantha and April both went directly to the front gate and started walking. My stepsister was wearing a pink tutu with her hair pulled back into a tight bun on top of her head. There were no prizes for guessing where they were going.

  “The eagle is on the move,” I said.

  “Eagle, really? I’m sure you can come up with something more inventive than that.”

  I thought for a moment. “The black widow spider is on the move?” It seemed appropriate to me.

  “Not bad. How about Stepmonster?”

  “Sounds a bit bias.”

  “And black widow isn’t?” Frankie sounded outraged in a playful way. I liked the way we could joke together. I’d never had that before with anyone. Uncle Marvin lost his sense of humor with his waistline.

  Frankie and I started trailing after the pair, making sure to leave enough space so she wouldn’t spot us. April kept tugging her mother forward, trying to get her to fasten her pace. She was probably excited about her ballet lesson. I probably would have been at her age.

  The four of us wound around a few blocks before we stopped. Samantha took April into the dance studio and we waited outside. Hopefully it wouldn’t be the kind of dance class that required parental participation.

  “Did you ever go to dance classes when you were a kid?” Frankie asked.

  I snorted, the very idea was enough to laugh about. “No way. Uncle Marvin considered any kind of after-school activity to be a waste of time because they are all run by idiots for stupid purposes. He thought dancing was pointless.”

  “My sisters go to jazz classes.”

  “I hope your family never meets Uncle Marvin.”

  We waited in silence after that little revelation. Sometimes the truth sounded too sharp when I said it out loud. But what could I do? It didn’t seem feasible to lie to Frankie about everything. I had to hope he would simply understand.

  Samantha emerged after about ten minutes. She kept going on her walk with us. One of the only good things about Lakeside was the ability to walk most places without needing to be fit enough to run marathons. People rarely used their cars when they found the right neighborhood to settle in.

  The next stop on Samantha’s day of errands was a pawn shop, of all places. She went inside and straight to the counter. We could see her through the window but had no clue about what she was saying to the male shop attendant.

  “You go to a pawn shop when you need quick cash for something, right?” Frankie said. I nodded, that was my understanding too.

  Sure, some people went to pawn shops to browse for items like they would in a department store but those that went directly to the counter weren’t after making purchases.

  They wanted the cash.

  The shop attendant went away for a few minutes while Samantha shuffled from foot to foot and waited. The view through the window wasn’t spectacular but I did manage to glimpse her expression when she turned our way a few times.

  She looked worried.

  But about what?

  Hocking things at the pawn shop wasn’t illegal, nor was just browsing. There was enough police attention on the industry to make sure the shop attendants weren’t dodgy. So what did she have to be concerned about?

  For the first time since I met her, I did truly wonder if perhaps Samantha knew more than she let on. She could have been lying to me since that first encounter.

  I had believed her.

  Every word.

  Betrayal was something I was used to, having experienced it since that moment my father walked away from me. I was reminded of it every Mother’s Day when everyone else had a mommy except me, on every parent-teacher night when I had to explain why my Uncle Marvin chose not to come, and a million other instances in my life. It should have been something I was immune to.

  I wasn’t.

  It still stung like a bee.

  Samantha took a pile of money from the shop attendant and tucked it into her handbag before leaving. She emerged from the shop and immediately crossed the road.

  Stop number three for her was an automatic teller machine. Her cash was quickly swallowed up by the machine, she pressed a few buttons, and it spat out a wad of cash. It disappeared inside her handbag too.

  “Why does she need so much money all of a sudden?” I asked, never expecting an actual answer to my question. I could think of a hundred reasons why someone needed money.

  A gambling problem.

  Credit cards were maxed out.

  The rent is due before the paycheck comes in.

  The list went on into infinity. But the real question was why Samantha Gabrielle needed some fast cash. She was a suburban housewife, didn’t they all have some secret money tucked away for emergencies?

  “Maybe she’s running out of money,” Frankie offered. “Her husband’s business isn’t doing anything. She could be finding it difficult to make ends meet without the money coming in.”

  “That is surprisingly logical.”

  “I do my best.”

  Just like that, he had given me the one response that would put my concerns to rest for a while. Samantha’s actions were a little odd, but her situation was odd too. If Marshall was the main breadwinner of the family they would seriously be missing his income right about now.

  The next stop on Samantha’s route was the grocery store. We waited for almost an hour while she was inside. After that she juggled some brown paper bags and went home.

  I felt kind of guilty for suspecting her of dastardly deeds.

  “What do you want to do now?” Frankie looked eager to move onto more exciting things after our uneventful investigation.

  “I don’t know,” I re
plied. My weekend usually consisted of searching for lost things and cleaning the house until it sparkled–or at least until Uncle Marvin wouldn’t complain about dirt and dust particles. I still needed to do both of those things but they didn’t seem as appealing as spending time with Frankie.

  “Can you show me your lost things?”

  “No,” was my automatic response.

  “Why not?” Always with the questions, Mr. Frankie Bolero. He should be a cop when he graduated high school. He would be right in his element in the interrogation room.

  “Because…” Why not? Because he would think I was a freak? Yes. Because he wouldn’t want to hang out any more once he’d seen the size of my collection? Yes.

  But before I could try to put my thoughts into words, Frankie linked his arm with me and started walking. “Come on, it will be fun. I really want to see everything.” I had no choice except to move with him.

  “My Uncle Marvin might be home,” I lied. He told me he would be out late today and to leave his dinner in the fridge. Potentially missing out on his meal was the only reason he enlightened me with the information.

  “I’m sure I can talk him into loving me. I’ve been told I’m very irresistible.” I didn’t think Frankie was lying. He was very irresistible. But Uncle Marvin wasn’t the average bag of beans. He didn’t like anything.

  Most of all, people.

  “You don’t know my Uncle Marvin,” I finally replied. “He hates everyone and everything.”

  “But he doesn’t hate you.”

  “The jury’s out on that one.”

  Frankie just flashed me one of his irresistible grins and walked a little faster. As much as I didn’t want him meeting my uncle, it would have been preferable to have him shoo him away rather than the boy seeing my collection of lost things.

  Every step toward home was one closer to the end of our friendship. My mind was too scrambled to think of a more convincing lie. I would have set the house on fire if I thought I could do it without Frankie seeing.

  Even Mrs. Justice wasn’t in her yard to play interference. The whole world was conspiring against me to allow Frankie into my secret realm.

  There were only a few minutes now before our friendship met its inevitable end.

  Then just one minute.

  And then only seconds.

  “This house is really cool,” Frankie said as we walked past the living room. “It’s got… character.”

  “You don’t need to give me pity compliments,” I replied. “I know this house sucks and it’s falling apart. One good gust of wind and it will fold like a house of cards.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Wait until we get upstairs.”

  “I’ve been upstairs, remember? I helped you put your shelves up in the attic.”

  Oh, right.

  So he’d seen the house but that didn’t change anything. He hadn’t seen my bedroom, which means he hadn’t seen my lost things. One look at all those shelves and he would be running home to his mommy.

  We moved up the stairs too quickly, bringing us to the moment I dreaded far too fast. The last thing I wanted to see was that look on Frankie’s face when he realized what a nut job I was.

  Three seconds to go and the door was only a step away.

  Two seconds and I held my breath with my hand on the doorknob.

  One second and I could feel the rush of blood through my ears.

  Frankie walked into my room alone. I stood by the door with my stomach in my throat. There was no way to hide my craziness now, it was laid bare for him to see.

  So many shelves.

  Each of the items meant something to me. They had a story and I could remember every single one of them. The items were a victory for me, proof that not everything lost had to remain lost. They could find new homes where they could belong forever.

  No more hurt.

  No more pain.

  They were safe now.

  Frankie looked at the shelves, walking alongside while taking in each of the objects in his gaze. He was quiet, very quiet. I would have given anything to know what was going on inside his head right at that moment.

  I never was any good at silence.

  “You think I’m weird now, right?” I said. It was better that I said it rather than him. I couldn’t bear for Frankie to say those words to me. Not out loud, not when I would be able to replay the sound bite in my head repeatedly.

  Frankie stopped and looked at me. “Of course not. I like everything about you, Em. This is your world and I’m thankful you let me see it.”

  Everything in my body melted into jelly.

  I was going to puddle on the floor and seep through the wooden boards.

  “Do you really mean that?” My voice was so small I wasn’t sure I was actually speaking out loud. A mouse could have done better.

  He took a few steps until he was standing directly in front of me. “Of course I mean it. Em, don’t you understand?”

  “Understand what?”

  “Understand how beautifully unique you are.”

  My brain was a muddle of thoughts, words, and numbers. They swirled around with no real order, making me completely confused.

  For reasons I couldn’t fathom, Frankie liked me. He thought I was beautifully unique. It sounded like a compliment.

  He thought I was beautiful.

  Unique.

  Beautifully unique.

  There had been plenty of names people had called me before. Liar. Freak. Weirdo. Crazy. But nobody had ever called me beautiful before.

  So, of course, I had to go and ruin the moment. “Yeah, right. Because everyone knows collecting things that people have lost is so beautiful.”

  “Why not? Who else even gives mind to these things? You rescue them, make sure they are safe, I told you I got it. Em, I love everything about you, including your collection.”

  His eyes were so blue.

  They seemed so sincere.

  He got it.

  He loved me.

  I could have lived a thousand lifetimes and I would never have expected anyone to say those words to me.

  They were too kind.

  Too wonderful.

  Surely he had to be talking about someone else.

  “Now it’s your turn to say something,” Frankie said. His eyes briefly went to the floor before they rose to meet mine again. There were no words I could form that would be able to express how much I loved his words.

  How much I loved him.

  He wasn’t just the new kid anymore, the one who wouldn’t leave me alone until he discovered my secrets. He was Frankie. My Frankie.

  “You kissed me,” I blurted out. The words had not formed in my mind before I said them. They came out of nowhere with no time for me to recall them.

  His shoulders relaxed as a smile lifted his lips slightly. “You kissed back.”

  “I liked it.”

  “So did I.”

  “I think you should do it again.” These words were coming out of the most private recesses of my mind. I had no idea how they had managed to escape and make their way into the world.

  Why couldn’t I shut up?

  Where were my lies?

  What was it about this boy that made me want to tell him the truth?

  My carefully constructed wall I had built around myself was falling apart. The bricks were cracking, making long lines run through the concrete. Just one little huff and it would crumble to the ground.

  All the air in my lungs caught in my throat, my heart was swollen and thudding too loudly while I waited for him to do something, to say something more.

  It felt like I was dreaming.

  Except it wasn’t a nightmare this time. It was a fantastic dream, even though I had no idea what to say or do.

  “I want to be more than friends with you, Em.”

  “Are you sure?” I had to check, give him the opportunity to walk away with no hard feelings. That was what I expected. Having people stick around were
the surprising ones.

  Frankie laughed as his eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’m sure. I’ve never met anyone like you and I can’t imagine my life without you now.”

  “So I’ll be your girlfriend? And you’ll be my boyfriend?”

  “If that’s what you want, too.”

  I did. I so did. “Yes, please. Just…”

  “Just?”

  “Just stay, okay?”

  Frankie leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I could still feel his lips even when he removed them. My hand cradled my cheek, as if I could hold onto the feel of his kiss and keep it there forever like a tattoo.

  Butterflies were set off in my stomach, completely fluttering over the fact that I was falling in love with the boy standing in front of me.

  And then they all died.

  “Em! Where are you?” Uncle Marvin cried out from downstairs. Frankie and I exchanged a panicked look.

  We were going to be caught in my bedroom.

  That would not end well.

  Chapter 19

  We were immediately in panic mode. I could not have Uncle Marvin meeting Frankie. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, how on earth did he decide to come home early today of all days? Normally it never would have been a problem.

  But today?

  My worlds could not be permitted to collide. I’d already somehow managed to fall into a twilight zone with Frankie seeing my lost things. Him having a conversation with my uncle was only going to make everything implode.

  Nothing good could come of it.

  “What should I do?” Frankie whispered. His blue eyes were now wide open, alert and ready for action. He lost all the softness I had seen in him only moments earlier.

  I needed a plan.

  We needed a plan.

  “Em? Get your ugly butt down here. The door was unlocked so I know you’re here.”

  “I’ll go downstairs and get him into the kitchen. Then you need to sneak out,” I quickly replied to Frankie in a whisper. There were a million holes in my plan–I never said it was a good one–but it would have to do. It wasn’t like I had a helicopter waiting on the roof for moments like these.

 

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