Let's Get Lost

by Adi Alsaid

  “He’s so sweet,” Leila said.

  “Yeah,” Hudson said, picking at a splinter on a kitchen cabinet.

  “What interview do you have to be well-rested for?”

  “I have this interview with the dean of admissions at Ole Miss. It’s to see if they’re going to offer me a full scholarship.”

  “Wow. That’s impressive.”

  Hudson shrugged. “I guess. My dad knows the guy, so he helped set up the interview, and that’s why he’s a little paranoid about it.” Not wanting to think about tomorrow, when Leila might no longer be around, Hudson moved toward the back door. “Let’s get the grill going.”

  Leila nodded and helped him grab a few things from the kitchen; then they went out to the backyard to light the charcoal. The air had cooled pleasantly with the oncoming dusk, only a few streaks of orange light breaking through gaps in the trees where cicadas buzzed. It was a large yard, the grass bright green and healthy. A toolshed stood in the middle, not far off from the fire pit that Walter had dug and lined with bricks. There were a few tree stumps and camping chairs gathered around the pit in a circle, a crushed beer can forgotten in the weeds from the last time his dad’s friends had come over. Hudson wished that he had some ability to stop time, to hold the Earth’s rotation, so that he could just stand near Leila for a little while longer.

  “So, a doctor, huh?”

  “Yeah, but it’s not a big deal,” Hudson said. “Nothing like that seeing-through-doors trick.”

  “Superpower, not a trick,” Leila corrected, grabbing a match and tossing it onto the pile of charcoal. “And I’m sure you have some powers of your own.”

  “Not really.” At that moment, the only superpower he felt he had was that he could spend time with someone like Leila and have her want to stay around for dinner.

  “Bullshit,” she said, giving him a friendly hip check. “Ranting,” she pointed out. “I could listen to you rant about treasures all day.”

  Hudson tried and failed to keep the size of his smile under control, especially when he noticed that she was smiling back at him. “I’m also pretty damn good at setting a table,” he said, trying to draw attention away from his blushing. “I can do it with one hand. And I don’t even have to look up online which side the knife is supposed to be on.”

  “I knew you were holding out on me.”

  “I’ll show you,” he said, and he went about setting the table with an exaggerated care that he hoped was funny. Leila took a seat and watched him, a smile on her face. When he was done, he sat next to her as they waited for the coals to heat.

  This was Hudson’s favorite time of the year, favorite time of day, favorite spot of his house. It was the first time in a while that he was sitting there without a book in front of him. He’d almost forgotten how enjoyable his backyard was when he could simply sit and look around without having to study. Leila leaned back in her patio chair and put her legs up, resting her heels on Hudson’s lap. She did it so casually that Hudson couldn’t tell just what she meant by it; if she meant anything at all or if she just needed a place to rest her feet and made no distinction between him and any other surface. Or maybe, just maybe, she was as happy to be spending time with him as he was with her.

  Hudson barely moved, focusing on the weight of her feet on his lap. By the time his dad joined them outside, Hudson’s legs were falling asleep. “We were waiting for the coals to get hot,” Hudson said.

  “Well, looks like they’re just about ready to go,” Walter said, even though Hudson knew very well that they’d been ready for a while. Walter grabbed the tray of patties and put three down on the grill, smiling at the satisfying sizzle of the meat beginning to cook.

  “Want some help, Pop?”

  “I’ve got it, thanks.”

  Other fathers might have turned around and winked at their son, or smiled. But Hudson liked his dad’s reserved way of showing affection, the silent acceptance of cooking duties.

  “So, Leila,” Walter asked when the burgers were ready, bringing them to the table, “Hudson tells me you’re not from Vicksburg. What brings you over here?”

  “I’m zigzagging my way up the country to go see the Northern Lights,” she said.

  Walter picked at the label on his beer, peeling until the corner curled away from the glass. “That’s one hell of a road trip. You’re doing it by yourself?”

  “Yup.” Leila nodded.

  “Well, everyone needs at least one long road trip in their lives,” Walter said. “I was probably about your age when I did mine.”

  “Where’d you go?”

  “California to New York. Sea to shining sea.” He kept peeling the label off, lost in thought. His dad always got that look on his face when he talked about that road trip. Hudson had asked him about it more times than he could remember, but no matter how much Walter told him, Hudson could never really get a feel for what his dad had been like back then. It was strange to think that there was a part of his dad he’d never know, two whole decades’ worth of memories that did not include Hudson.

  “This kid hasn’t taken one yet,” he said, snapping out of it and motioning toward Hudson.

  “What are you talking about? I’ve been with you on tons of road trips.”

  “Doesn’t count,” Walter said, sipping from his beer. “On your own is what I meant. You get yourself a part-time job in college, something that won’t get in the way of your studies, and maybe you’ll save up enough to travel during the summers. And, if you really impress me with your grades”—Walter paused for effect—“I might give you a free oil change for your first trip.”

  “Now I see where Hudson gets his wit,” Leila said, kicking Hudson playfully under the table.

  He kicked back lightly, wishing that he was barefoot and then feeling a bit creepy for it. “Why the Northern Lights anyway?”

  Leila shrugged. “It’s just something I know I have to do.”

  “Life to-do list sort of thing?”

  “Something like that,” Leila said.

  “Is this your first road trip?” Walter asked.

  Leila took another bite of her burger. God, she was attractive even when she was chewing. It made Hudson want to cook for her. She gave a slight nod.

  When she was done chewing, she took a sip of her soda and wiped at the corner of her mouth with a paper napkin. “I’m on a little break from school right now and thought it was a good time for some traveling.”

  Hudson nodded, then realized he had no idea what that meant. “Like, college? Did you take a year off after high school?” It was hard to tell how old she was. Between sixteen and...twenty? Maybe?

  “Nope.” She took the last bite of her burger, and for a second it seemed as if she’d done that so she wouldn’t have to say anything else. Then she swallowed and said, “I’ve been stuck in kindergarten for years. This trip around the country is so I can finally learn the alphabet.”

  As his dad chuckled, Leila smirked at Hudson, and he could feel her face etching itself into his memory.

  “I’m kidding, Hudson. You haven’t been hanging around with a kindergartner all day.”

  “No? I could have sworn I was. Only kindergartners ever laugh at my jokes.”

  “I could see that,” Leila said. “And kudos for not taking the opportunity to make fun of my height. I set it up perfectly.”

  Hudson shrugged. “I like how short you are,” he said, immediately grabbing a chip from the open bag in the middle of the table and munching on it as a way to keep himself from apologizing for the comment.

  The sky had darkened to night, and now the only light came from the pinprick stars and the neighbors’ kitchens. But he could see Leila smiling to herself, biting her bottom lip. Then she leaned back in her chair and put her feet on his lap again.

  “What are you planning to see along the way?” Walter asked, grabbin
g a second burger, dressing it with his usual half dozen squirts of hot sauce.

  “I haven’t really planned much out. I’m just going to play it by ear, see where I end up.”

  “You’ve already seen Vicksburg,” Hudson said. “It’s all downhill from here.”

  Leila chuckled in a way he hadn’t heard before, a laugh that was soft and throaty and that shocked Hudson into goose bumps. “I’m sure the rest of the country will have trouble living up,” she said.

  After a few minutes, Walter got up to clear the table, and when he was inside, Leila pulled her feet off Hudson.

  “I guess I should let you get some rest, then,” Leila said. “You’ve got that interview.” She slipped her feet back into the flip-flops and stood up.

  The joy he’d felt since meeting her was slipping away, but Hudson didn’t know what to say to stop her from leaving. He followed her as she walked to the sliding glass door that led back into the house. She didn’t open the door, though, just stood there looking at her feet as if mulling over some thought.

  The lights from the kitchen turned on as his dad started cleaning up inside. Hudson could see Leila clearly again, her hands in her back pockets, a half-inch strip of skin visible between her shirt and the waistline of her shorts. Then she stepped forward and pulled him in for a hug. It was surprisingly strong, coming from someone her size, from someone he’d just met a few hours before. It felt achingly good to be pressed against her.

  “It was very nice to meet you,” she said. “Good luck with everything.”

  Then she planted a kiss on his cheek and walked inside. It was almost paralyzing, the kiss, the feel of her lips on his skin, the already increasing distance between them. Paralyzing enough that by the time he went into the house, Leila had already said good-bye to his dad and was at the front door. Not just at the front door but halfway out of it already. She noticed him and paused; then she waved good-bye and closed the door behind her.

  He stood in the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, trying to get over the shock of seeing her leave so suddenly. When he became aware of the sound of rushing water, he noticed his dad standing at the sink doing the dishes. “Pop, need any help?”

  His dad turned, the bottom of his shirt stained dark with water. “No, thanks.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be upstairs. Night.” But he didn’t move for a while, just stood there staring at the front door.

  “G’night,” his dad called back. “I’ll be by your room at six to make sure you’re up. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

  “Right,” Hudson said. When he broke out of his daze, he climbed the stairs with measured effort and went into his room, plopping down onto his bed and pulling out the stack of papers he’d printed off the internet full of possible questions he might be asked during an admissions interview. He leafed through some pages, more aware of the sound they made as his fingertips pushed them aside than of the words on the paper. He eyed the outfit he and his dad had picked out for the interview—his blue pinstriped suit, white shirt, jade-green tie. It was hanging on the closet’s door handle, the dry-cleaning wrapper keeping the suit from wrinkling.

  A couple of minutes later, Hudson heard his dad coming up the stairs, and the lights in the hallway turned off. Hudson realized he hadn’t read a single word, so he rose from his bed and walked over to the windowsill. He sighed deeply, as if thoughts of Leila rested in his lungs and all he needed was to breathe her out. As his breath rattled the venetian blinds, he noticed that Leila’s car was still parked outside. He stepped to the window and looked through the slats. He could see her sitting inside, one elbow resting against the window, the other hand on the wheel. She pulled her elbow away and looked up at him, her eyes brilliant even from that distance. He thought about the oxbow, about wandering its entire perimeter with Leila by his side, the Mississippi River providing a roar of background noise to their conversation.

  Not tonight, he told himself as he poked his head out his bedroom door to make sure the lights in his dad’s room were off. I’m not going to stay home tonight, not when I have the chance to spend time with her. He went back into his room, pulled the cords that drew the blinds up, and slid his window open. He climbed slowly onto the roof of the porch, then eased himself onto the grass of the front lawn, looking back to make sure his dad’s lights were still off.

  Then he jogged over to the car. Leila had rolled the window down and watched him approach without saying anything. He leaned toward her open window. “Scootch over,” he said in a near-whisper. “I’m driving.”

  “What about getting some rest?” She raised an eyebrow.

  He shrugged and said, “I promised to show you a treasure.”

  4

  IT WAS PITCH-BLACK on the drive, nothing on the country lane but their headlights illuminating the occasional reflectors at the edge of the road. They glowed yellow and then faded back into darkness.

  Hudson kept stealing glances at Leila’s profile, trying to figure out what made her so attractive, but the only intelligible thought he came away with after each stolen glance was: I like her face. I really like her face.

  “So, how’d you find this treasure?”

  “It’s a local tradition. There’s always a group of kids that lays claim to it. Then, when they move on—school, babies, getting old, whatever—some new group moves in. One of my friends’ older brothers used to hang out there, and when his friends all got jobs in Jackson and Biloxi, my friends took over.”

  Only after he said this did Hudson realize he and Leila might not have the oxbow to themselves. Friday night in Vicksburg, what else was there to do? He hoped his friends had gone to the bowling alley instead.

  “What do you do over there? Dumb guy stuff?”

  “Pretty much.” He signaled and turned the car onto another indistinguishable country lane. “Toss a football around, light bonfires. Have some drinks. I’m not a big drinker, so I’m usually the designated driver.”

  “Hmm, too bad we don’t have anything to drink. It’d be fun to get drunk with you.”

  Hudson let the comment hang in the air and pretended to focus on the road as he turned off onto an unpaved street. The car rumbled over the uneven surface, kicking up pebbles that struck the undercarriage and chimed like a children’s toy.

  “How far away is this place?”

  “We’re almost there,” Hudson said, pointing lamely at a patch of darkness beyond the reach of the headlights.

  When he parked the car, Leila was quick to open the door and get out, letting in a vibrant sound. It wasn’t the river itself, the current mostly calm, but everything surrounding it: the nocturnal wildlife, the insects, the flora moving in the breeze, almost like lungs expanding and contracting. Impossible to prove, but Hudson felt that the whole length of the river was contributing to the sound, the casino boats a few miles down, the current crashing into the Gulf of Mexico in New Orleans like a jazz cymbal. It all came together to create this wall of noise that felt somehow tangible.

  “This way,” Hudson said, starting to head around the trees and into the ravine.

  She stepped to him, and before he could realize what his fingers were doing, he took hold of her hand. “Okay,” she said, squeezing his fingers back without much fanfare, “lead the way.”

  Thankful for the darkness hiding his uncontainable smile, he took them around the trees. A couple of times he almost lost his footing, too distracted by Leila’s touch to pay much attention to the terrain. They reached the river’s edge and started walking downstream. He was hoping that the boat was there. If the rowboat was there, then it meant he and Leila would have the oxbow to themselves and his friends were off doing something else.

  “I like this scenic route,” she said. “It feels like an actual treasure hunt.”

  “You’ll love this place,” he said, spotting the low-hanging branches where they kept the small rowboa
t hidden. It was there. He let go of her hand to kneel down and pull the boat out of its hiding spot. It was little more than a worn-out canoe, its wood knotty and cracked, its white paint darkened to green by the river.

  “Oh, I see it,” Leila said, looking out at the river, her hands in her back pockets, that world-changing posture again. “How far is that?”

  “Not too far. About sixty, seventy yards, maybe.” He put one foot in the boat and turned to offer a helping hand.

  She looked over at Hudson and then back at the island. A mischievous smile spread across her lips. She stepped toward him, but instead of taking his hand and getting into the boat, she knelt down and stuck her hand into the river.

  “It’s chilly,” she said. “But the current isn’t too bad.” She stood back up to her full height, which, admittedly, wasn’t very much. “Let’s swim across.”

  She kicked off one of her flip-flops and stuck her foot into the river.

  Hudson gave her a look.

  “Haven’t you ever done it before?”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, we’re definitely doing this, then.”

  “What about our clothes?”

  “They’ll get wet, and then some time after that they’ll get dry.”

  “And our phones? The car keys?”

  “Leave them in the car.” She walked over to him and pulled him out of the boat by his hand. “Hudson, you’re swimming across this river with me.”

  He resisted for a few steps, dragging his feet. But then he remembered that he’d climbed out his bedroom window and left his house because he wanted to immerse himself in fun for once. “It’s very hard to say no to you.”

  “Why would you want to say no to me?”

  Leila laughed and gave his hand a squeeze, then walked them back to the car. Hudson checked the time again before leaving his phone in the glove compartment. If he was tired the next day, he could tell his dad he’d had trouble sleeping out of nervousness. They left their shoes, wallets, and keys inside, then walked back to the shore, treading carefully to avoid stepping on stones or twigs with their bare feet.