The Lost and Found

by Grant Fieldgrove

The boys went home that night and packed everything they thought they would need. None of them got much rest.

  The following day they met back at Mark's house, giving him a vague overview of the plan, simply saying Jake would distract Val while Daniel and Brad smuggled him out to the van. He was weak, though. His fentanyl patch had worn off in the night, requiring Mitchell to give him a dosage of morphine to get him back to sleep. When he awoke, a new patch was applied. Its effects had yet to kick in and Mark felt sick to his stomach and was ready to call off the whole plan and just die right here and now, in his bed. He was too feeble to argue, though, so he simply laid back, allowing fate to take over. Whatever happens, happens, he thought before drifting back into hallowed darkness.

  When Mark awoke, their plan would begin. They all stayed in the bedroom to give Vallesa the impression Mark was awake. Every fifteen minutes or so one of them would walk in to the living room and assure her everything was fine. Two hours after he fell asleep it was time for Jake to put forth his part of the mission. He casually strolled out of the bedroom and made his way to the fridge, a pit the size of a softball in his stomach. He wanted to throw up but he played it cool, grabbing two cold beers from the fridge and strutted back towards Vallesa on the sofa, sitting down next to her. The bag was in arm's reach, but it didn't matter. He twisted the cap off the first beer and handed it to a mildly shocked-looking Val.

  "I can't drink a beer. I'm on duty."

  "So what? Who's going to know? Mark just fell asleep. He's out like a light. He won't be up until long after your shift ends." He extended the beer further in her direction, all but forcing her to take it. She did. He twisted off the next cap and held the bottle up to her. "Cheers."

  "Cheers." Her face was bright red again. Jake had put his hand on her leg.

  They sat there flirting the whole time. When both their beers were depleted, Jake got up to retrieve more.

  "Where are you going?"

  "Just, ya know, going to the fridge, get a few more."

  "Ya know what?" she asked. "I'm uncomfortable out here. You maybe want to go in the other bedroom and watch TV?"

  "What? Um. Really?"

  "Yeah, we can stretch out, don't have to be cramped here on the sofa."

  "Um, yeah." His voice grew louder, "I WOULD LOVE TO GO IN THE BEDROOM WITH YOU."

  "Shh, silly."

  "Oh, my bad."

  Brad and Daniel heard the cue and gently tried to wake Mark up. He stirred a bit and finally opened his eyes, Brad saying, "It's time, buddy."

  Jake was slightly taken aback when Val grabbed his hand and led him to the back bedroom, closing and locking the door behind them. It wasn't until he sat on the bed that he noticed she had brought that fucking bag with her. Goddamn it, he thought. That fucking bag!

  She set it on the dresser in front of the bed then made her way back to where Jake was sitting. She reached out and grabbed the collar of his T-shirt, pulling upwards and forcing him to his feet. She forcefully grabbed his belt, tugging him close and undoing it. Jake was pretty sure he objected but couldn't be positive. He wasn't sure if the words actually exited his mouth or somehow became trapped between his throat and teeth. She undid his belt and pulled his shorts and underwear off so hard the front button popped off and ended up God-knows-where. She pushed him backwards on to the bed, his legs comically flailing up and over his entire body. When the stars cleared from his eyes he saw Val standing at the foot of the bed, her scrub bottoms missing. Oh God, he thought. Oh God no! She climbed on the bed and straddled him with her Honey-Baked-Ham thighs. Jake thought he could feel his ribs cracking like twigs under the massive pressure of the husky woman perched atop him.

  Jake tried to sit up but was helpless against her. She sensed his struggle and placed her right hand on his chest, holding him still. "You're going to get it now, big stud."

  Outside the closed door, Brad and Daniel sneaked past holding all the luggage and quietly, carefully, took it outside to the van. When they came back they searched the living room for the medicine bag. It was nowhere to be found.

  "Fuck bro, you don't think she took it in there with her, do you?" Daniel asked.

  "Dude, I do think that. God damn it. Do we wait to see if Jake grabs it or do we risk trying to get it ourselves?" Brad fished a folded up piece of paper from his wallet and flattened it on the table next to him; Val's note, in plain sight for her.

  "We've got to risk getting it ourselves. If Jake doesn't grab it, that's it, we're fucked."

  "Shit. Okay, I'll peek inside. First, let's get Mark loaded up and get that motor running in case we have to make a mad dash." They walked back into the bedroom and unfolded Mark's wheelchair. "Okay dude, we're going to pick you up. You ready?" Mark nodded his head and the two boys bent over and lifted him from his bed and gently set him down in the wheel chair. They pushed him to the door and told him to watch his hands, it was going to be a tight squeeze through the door jamb.

  "Where's Jake?"

  "He's uh, entertaining Val." Daniel answered.

  "Holy shit. You don't mean...?"

  "No," Brad assured him. "He's just keeping her occupied. Maybe they're making out a little, but that's it."

  They reached the car and, after a few more wisecracks about the ride from Mark, got him comfortably seated with his wheelchair stowed behind him. "Good news, guys. That fen patch is kicking in finally."

  "Great," Brad said, taking his phone from his pocket and typing a text to Jake, asking if he would be able to get the bag and still make a clean getaway. Two minutes passed with no response. He would have to get it himself. "Danny, get the car started. In fact, pull it out of the driveway and back it in, just in case we need a speedy getaway. Keep the door open, too. I'm going in." He tossed the keys to Daniel and turned to continue his quest. He heard Mark's faint voice behind him, telling him good luck.

  Brad cut through the house and went straight into the backyard jungle. He needed to peek in through the glass door to, first, locate the bag, and second, see if the bag was easily attainable without getting busted. He had no luck, though. The curtains were drawn. He gently tugged on the door handle, trying to slide it open a crack. When it wouldn't budge, he remembered setting the lock the previous night. He went back inside.

  Outside the closed door, he held his ear close to listen. He heard moans. He couldn't believe it. His heart beating at a rapid pace as he fished a dime from his pocket and used it to easily unlock the door. Then he slowly turned the doorknob, hoping he went unheard, and pushed the door open just to squeeze through then quickly got down to his knees. The side wall of the closet was currently providing cover for him, but once free of its confines there would be nothing between him and Val. He located the bag, sitting on the dresser straight ahead. He wearily stuck his head around the corner, a deadening feeling forming in his intestines. He clenched his teeth at the optical agony. Val was on her back, legs wrapped tightly around Jake's back. Thrusting. Oh dear lord, the thrusting! Brad held back the urge to vomit and run away in terror, calling off the whole plan. He thought about poor Mark, waiting in the van and knew he had to press on.

  His eyes were locked on Jake's disgusting, hairy ass. God damn, he thought, it looks like a squirrel has taken up residence in his ass crack! Look away, Brad. God, why won't you look away?! He closed his eyes tightly, bringing his auditory senses more keen to the moist slap-slap-slapping sounds filling the room. A gag caught in his throat, forcing his eyes open. There were no lesser of two evils.

  He forced his eyes closed again, stuck his right index finger into his right ear and crawled out on his knees into unprotected territory, unnoticed. He reached the dresser and raised his left hand up, feeling around for the bag. When he had a hold of it he quickly stole it from
its perch and crawled swiftly back out the door. Once free, he scrambled to his feet and ran through the house, busting through the front door and towards the van, laughing so hard it was difficult to find breath.

  While Brad told his story, Jake was inside finishing up. He collapsed on top of Val then rolled off. "Holy shit," he said, as they both laid there for a while, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. "Welp, I guess I better get going. You're on birth control, right?" He made an attempt to sit up but was pulled back down by Val's hand on his shoulder.

  "Where do you think you're going?"

  "Ya know, it's getting late, and my friends are out there, and-"

 

  Val focused on the spot her bag should have been occupying. Her eyes narrowed and her face turned red. "Where's my bag?"

  "Your what?"

 

  "My fucking black bag with your friend's medicine in it?"

  "How should I know? I've been busy, remember, pressure washing the ol' quiver bone? Takin' you on a tour of the Hostess factory... It's probably in the living room where you left it."

  She sat up and skootched her fat ass over to the foot of the bed and got to her feet. "Bullshit!" She turned to face him. "I set it right here. Where the fuck is it?!"

  "I've been in here the whole goddamn time. Remember. There's some proof right there...and there. Let me go out and ask the guys if they've seen it."

  "Oh no, Loverboy, you're not going anywhere." She made her way to the door, cracking it open and peeking out. Jake used this time to get off the bed.

  "Let me just go ask." He was standing with his back to the sliding glass door. Nonchalantly, over the curtain, he reached behind his back for the door handle, hoping to slide it open and make a run for it while she was preoccupied. It was locked. Fuck!

  Val stuck her head out the door and yelled out, "Hey guys, can you come here for a second. It's important." There was no answer. She tried again, this time louder. If they were in the house, they were sure to hear. "Guys, come quick, it's an emergency!" Jake just stood there, buck naked, trying to hold in his bowels from a nervous expulsion. He took a few steps towards her. "You stay right there," she barked!

  "I'm just going to get my pants. Shit." He made a few more steps in her direction before she slammed the door and locked it. She turned her hellish, pissed off face towards him. Oh fuck, he thought. I'm dead.

  "I don't like this at all. I'm calling the hospital. You stay right there." She bent down slowly and pulled her wadded up scrub pants towards her, blocking Jake's escape the whole time. She pulled her phone from the scrub pocket and attempted to dial. Jake leaped forward and slapped the phone from her hand, sending it sliding under the bed. Val's face shot up in shock, eyes wide, mouth open in disbelief before quickly returning back to angry.

  "Oh fuck oh fuck," Jake said, panicking. In the split second when Val was deciding whether to pick the phone back up or ring Jake's scrawny little neck, Jake turned and sprinted towards the sliding glass door, crashing through it and sending him sliding face first onto the patio floor entangled in curtains, glass sticking in him. Thank God for those curtains, he thought and he tried desperately to get to his feet. He didn't even look back to see where she was, he just found his footing and ran as fast as his bloody feet could take him.

  Outside in the van, all eyes were on the front door, waiting anxiously for Jake to emerge. Their attention was drawn from the front door to the side gate.

  "Was that glass?" Mark asked.

  They didn't even have time to answer when they saw Jake hoisting himself up and over the locked, wooden gate, as naked as the day he was born, and come blazing towards them, bare feet crushing the left over snow beneath them and leaving slight pink blotches in the wake while his dick bounced up and down like Rocky's speed bag in a training montage.

  I,

  I could be anything

  But for the fault that I've acquired on my way

  We

  We were the end of it

  But now we see the sun shining in our face

  We see the sun shining in our face

  So come on, come on we can be saved

  The lives we live, the wars we wage

  When everyone just tells us how to feel

  We're sleeping at the wheel

  And I

  I would give anything

  But for the grace of God I'm here and still aware

  We know the end is overrated

  We've became the walls we raise

  We don't believe enough but we still cared

  Standing on the edge without a prayer

  So come on, come on it's all we got

  Our hands are full, our lives are not

  The loose affiliation with the real

  We're sleeping at the wheel

  All of the time we've lost

  All of the love we gave

  And now these hands are tied

  I can't help thinking

  That I was in the days I was losing my place

  I was screaming out at everything

  Waiting for the walls to come down

  Before my moment starts of fade

  But everything that's perfect falls away

  So come on, come on we can be saved

  The lives we live, the wars we wage

  When everyone just tells us how to feel

  We're sleeping at the wheel

  We're sleeping at the wheel

  Just sleeping at the wheel

  "Go, go, go, go!" Jake was yelling as he barreled towards the van. Daniel, still in the driver's seat, put the car in drive and slowly began descending the driveway. As soon as Jake jumped in the opened door and slid it closed, Daniel punched the gas leaving streaks of laid rubber and a thick haze of dust in their wake as the tires gained their grip on the icy ground below, speeding past Brad's parent's house, remembering to give his horn a little hello-honk which had been his custom since the day he first got his driver's license.

  Brad turned in his seat to face Jake. "Dude! What the fuck?!"

  "Fuckin' chick raped me, dude! I was powerless! I had to crash through the fucking glass door to escape!"

  "Jesus Christ," Daniel said, "somebody give him a goddamn blanket or something! He's assing up the seat! And bleeding!" Jake had one hand covering his crotch and the other hand gripping the armrest as he leaned forward and tried to catch his breath. Mark was having a coughing fit of laughter.

  "Rape, my ass," Brad said. "I saw you in there, big stud."

  "I hate you."

  "Home of the Whopper, my ass, too."

  "Fuck off! I'm a grower not a shower! Besides, I'm sure you caught a glimpse of the goods in full working order, back there. Don't lie."

  Mark, through his painful coughs of hysterics, said, "I swear to God if I died right now I would go a happy man."

  Daniel turned a corner, pulling onto his parent's street and put the van in park. He got out and went around the back, opening up the rear hatch. He opened up one of the suitcases and retrieved a blanket, tossing it at the back of Jake's head. "Please. Please, bro, cover that shit up." Jake took the blanket from his head and wrapped it around him.

  "We've got to stop somewhere so I can change."

  "It's cool," Brad said, "we'll go to my house. Jen and Cari want to say bye..." He stopped himself from saying 'to Mark' and instead added, rather foolishly, "to all of us, ya know."

  Mark, still trying to settle his cough, said, "Good. I'd really like to see them, too."

  "Shit dude," Jake said, "not only am I bleeding, I have splinters in my feet from that stupid gate." Daniel returned to the driver's seat and they took off towards Brad's house, Jake complaining the whole time as he picked little shards of wood from his toes.

 
When they pulled in to Brad's driveway, Jake slid the door open and got out, making sure the blanket concealed all, and went to the back to retrieve his suitcase. Brad got out of the car and told Jake to stay there for a second, he would go inside and tell the girls to come out then he could sneak in and get dressed.

  Brad returned shortly, Carolyn in his arms and Jeni walking beside him. Jen leaned into the open side door, making a crack about the guy's sweet ride.

  "It was all they had," Daniel assured her.

  "It's cool. I won't judge," she said, smiling. "How are you feeling, Mark?"

  "Never better," he coughed.

  "Where is Jake?"

  "Oh," Brad answered, "he had to run inside. He had a little accident and had to change clothes."

  "Oh god, he didn't already ruin the rental car did he?"

  "No, no. No big deal. He just, ya know, spilled something."

  "Yeah, his seed," Daniel added, under his breath.

  "What?" Jeni asked.

  "Nothin'."

  Jeni narrowed her eyes and inhaled. "Why does the car already smell like rank pussy?" Her remark caused Mark to cough even harder and Daniel had to turn away to hide his smile. "Please remember to shower on this trip. If you stinky bastards have already funked up the car after one day, I can't imagine what it's going to be like in a few weeks."

  "We will, baby. I promise, it's just, ya know...dudes." Brad said as he set Carolyn on her feet inside the van. She slowly and unsteadily hobbled towards Mark. "Give Uncle Mark a big hug, okay. You won't see him for at least a couple of weeks. Uncle Danny, too." Jake came walking back to the car, fully clothed with suitcase in tow.

  "Hey, there are my girls."

  "Hi Jacob. Heard you had an accident."

  "Oh, it was no accident; your husband and these other two assholes made me fu-"

  Brad quickly snapped bolt upright, interrupting with, "Spill your drink. You're right. It was kinda my fault. No harm no foul, though. All is well." Jeni gave him a weird look then turned back to Jake.

  "Yep, they made me spill by drink. Lousy jerks."

  Inside the van, Mark held on to his god daughter, knowing full well this would be the last time he ever got the chance. He was careful not to cough on her and was struggling to fight back his tears. Carolyn, with an adorably large smile on her face, showing off her two teeth, leaned in and gave Mark a small peck on the left side of his lips. The dam had broken and tears flooded his eyes spilling up and over on to his face and on to Carolyn. She remained clung to him.

  "Come on, Carolyn, Daddy has to go," Brad said, reaching in to get her. Mark released his grip on her and told him that he loved her and always would. Brad lifted her up and held her in front of Daniel. "Give Uncle Danny kisses." She leaned in just as before, planting one on Daniel's chin. Brad scooted back and out of the car, passing her off to Jake and returning his attention to his wife. "We've really got to go, babe."

  "I know. Please be safe." Jake said his goodbye to Carolyn, passed her to Jeni and got in his seat. Jeni leaned in, "You boys behave yourselves, you hear me." A collected Yes Ma'am came from the van. "I want to see all of you back here safe and sound in a few weeks, you understand?" Her eyes were getting misty, she knew all-to-well the whole reasoning behind the trip, but she couldn't help but pray for a miracle. It was silly, she knew, but she was grasping at straws. Mark had become like a brother to her, it was hard to say goodbye.

  "We will," Mark said, still wiping the moisture from his cheeks and attempting to blink back more tears.

  "We love you guys," she said, sliding the door closed.

  Brad lowered his window and stuck his head out, whispering to Jeni, "If uh, anyone happens to come around asking you anything about us, you don't know anything, okay. Just say, I dunno, we were going down to Orlando, taking him to Disneyworld or something.

  "Oh lord, what did you do?"

  "Nothing. I promise. Just in case, ya know. I love you two."

  "We love you."

  The boys backed out the driveway and watched Jeni and Carolyn wave to them as they began their journey. Mark honked twice as they drove off into the dusk.

  Jeni stood there a few minutes more, crying.

  The boys turned on to Leavenworth Street and eventually merged onto Interstate-80, heading west towards Lincoln. They had no real plan, no reservations, just a desire to show their friend a good time and get him to Santa Monica.

  Brad turned to face the backseat, "You comfortable back there, buddy?"

  "Yeah, I'm doing okay. Do you think we can get some drinks though? That coughing fit and stupid morphine really messed up my throat."

  "Absolutely, there is an ice chest in back but the drinks are warm or we can stop at a gas station or drive through."

  "Gas station, please. I want some ice to chew on."

  "Sounds good, we'll get ice for the chest, too. Danny, that cool?"

  "Sure, I'll pull off at the next exit."

  "Jesus, Jake, blood is soaking through your shirt! Why did you wear a white shirt?!"

  "Dude, I don't know, I wasn't thinking." He looked down and discovered that indeed, his shirt was beginning to be soiled by tiny flecks of crimson. "Oh well."

  "Yeah, oh well. Your new name is Maxi."

  "I hate you. Hate you all."

  Daniel pulled off two miles later into a small town that was barely even visible from the interstate. He stopped at a Sinclair filling station. He and Brad got out of the van and asked Mark and Jake what they wanted. Mark wanted apple juice with a large cup of ice, Jake wanted a Red Bull and a large Dr. Pepper.

  They returned less than five minutes later, both loaded down with drinks and various unhealthy snacks. Daniel said he would continue to drive as he reclaimed his seat behind the wheel. He looked in the rear-view mirror and adjusted it to see Mark's face. He looked tired. "So Marcus, where to?"

  "I don't care, man. I'm getting tired." He took a mouthful of ice and chomped down on it. It tasted good. Ever since his cancer got worse his taste buds seemed to grow more susceptible. Food he used to love he could no longer stomach, and even something as simple as ice would often negatively-affect his palate, forcing him to endure every particle of shit that had been domiciliate in the water before freezing. His ice cubes at home had to be made in a tray with either Aquafina or Smart Water. Those tasted the best to him.

  "I know. I'm wide awake though, we can go where ever you want and you can sleep."

  "What's on the way to the beach?"

  "Beats me, man. Thirty-three years old and the farthest I've travelled from home was fucking Joplin, Missouri."

  "Topeka Kansas for me," Brad said.

  "I've got you all beat," Jake said. "Bozeman Montana! Land of the Future! If by future you mean meth labs."

  "I've never even been out of Nebraska," Mark said softly. "Thirty-three years old and I've never left my home state. Pathetic."

  "It's not pathetic. And that doesn't even matter anymore, bro" Daniel said. "We're on the road, headed out of this shit hole. Anywhere you want to go. You just tell me."

  "Well," Mark said, his eyelids growing heavy as his body was nearing sleep, "I've kinda always wanted to see Mount Rushmore." His eyes closed and his body went slack.

  Brad turned to Daniel and then to Jake, "Mount Rushmore?"

  Jake shrugged his shoulder, Daniel said, "Sure. Pull it up on GPS."

  The trip was said to take nearly ten hours. They could be there by morning. Daniel put the van in reverse, exited the parking lot and merged back on the I-80, through Lincoln, then on to the 26 cutting through nearly the entire length of Nebraska and on
to the 385 North towards Rapid City. While they had an iPod and auxiliary cord with them, they chose the radio. They picked up random stations as they passed through towns, some songs making them rolls their eyes with awfulness, others making them giggle with guilty pleasure or nostalgia, all-the-while keeping the volume low. The novelty wore off soon enough when the station seemed to get a little boy-band heavy and Brad plugged in his iPod and started the mix he had made especially for their road trip. Talk about nostalgia, Brad thought. This ought to blow them away with its awesomeness.

  Brad pressed play, sending his Class-of-1997 Play-list from his iPod through the speakers. Quietly, they began to laugh when they caught on to what Brad had done. The first song out of the gate was Lullaby by Shawn Mullins. Jake and Daniel both rolled their eyes but neither offered up any sort of objections.

  "Hope you guys like this. I actually stayed up quite late putting this together."

  "Shitty tunes from the nineties?" Jake asked

  "Come on, man. Tell me this song alone doesn't whisk you back to a much more simpler time."

  "Oh, I wasn't complaining." Jake responded, with a cheesy grin sprawled across his face.

  "What else do you have on here?" Daniel asked.

  "Oh, just wait and see, man. Just wait and see."

  "Mark is going to love this shit," Jake said.

  "I know."

  "Gentlemen," Daniel said. "We may just have some fun on this trip."

  Mark continued to sleep, coughing occasionally, but still seeming at peace as the minivan tore through the night. He wasn't missing much, though, aside from the nostalgic tunes coursing through the speakers. The scenery never seemed to change, just nothingness concealed in darkness. It wasn't until that moment the three boys truly realized just how boring their state was. With Mark sitting next to them, along on this trip for nothing more than to bear witness to one simple thing that millions of people take for granted before his life is unjustly cut short, each of them are lost in thought with various renditions of the same question; Have I wasted my life? This was their time for redemption. For a lifetime of stagnancy. Their time was now.

 

  Everything is gonna be all right, Rockabye

  .