The Keeper of Lost Things

by Jamie Campbell

  Everything would be different now.

  Everything would be—

  “Hey, there’s my Uncle Marvin,” I said, the image of my guardian derailing my train of thought. I pointed to a spot down the lakeside, Frankie followed my finger.

  “He doesn’t seem very happy,” Frankie replied.

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  All the jelly of his belly was jiggling in time with his finger pointing. Uncle Marvin was standing with another man, having a very serious conversation, it seemed. His cohort’s features were equally as twisted with anger. Their voices carried on the slight breeze but not enough for me to understand what they were saying.

  Of course, the yelling helped their voices travel too.

  “Do you know the other guy?” Frankie asked. We were both openly staring, probably not something we should have been doing when one of those men had told me never to see a certain boy ever again.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”

  My sensibilities overrode my curiosity. I stood and tugged on Frankie’s hand until he followed me behind a tree. We peered around the edges, hopefully hidden enough to stay out of trouble.

  I’d never seen Uncle Marvin so worked up before. He normally didn’t have the energy or the passion to fight about anything for too long. When he told me to do something, I did it. There were rarely fights in our small household thanks to this strategy.

  I focused in on the other man, the one my uncle seemed so upset with. He was shoving his chubby hand into the man’s chest, poking him with every word he yelled. The man replied but he didn’t return the physical side of the argument. He was almost bald, with hair so short he shouldn’t have bothered with it.

  “What do you think they’re fighting about?” Frankie was standing close to me out of our necessity to hide. He was too close for me not to notice the warmth of his body.

  “I have no idea. I don’t even know what he’s doing in this neighborhood. He works all the way across town. He’s so angry.”

  The men suddenly stomped off in different directions, climbing into separate cars and speeding off down the road. I slumped against the tree, trying to process everything I’d just witnessed. “Hypothetically speaking, if someone in your life might have done something bad, would you ask them about it? Or would you keep your mouth shut and mind your own business?”

  “Hypothetically speaking?” Frankie paused until I nodded my head. “I would probably have to ask them about it. But I’m nosey like that. Hypothetically speaking, if that someone was worried, I would suggest they talk about it without another someone.”

  “What if they were scared that other someone would think badly of them?”

  “Then I would say that other someone wouldn’t do such a thing.”

  I took a deep breath and took in everything he said. It was a now or never type of thing. “If I tell you something, do you promise you won’t repeat it to anyone else?”

  Frankie shoved his hands into his pockets. “Of course, I promise.”

  He was a boy that kept his promises.

  I didn’t doubt that.

  “The police think Uncle Marvin is a suspect in my father’s disappearance,” I blurted out before I lost my courage. It felt better just to share with someone.

  One eyebrow arched upwards over his eye. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know. I would never have thought he was capable of hurting anyone. He whines and complains about everything but I never thought he’d do anything to anyone. He always seemed all talk before and no action.”

  “And now?”

  “He was pretty angry.” I sighed. A part of me wanted to go back to how things were only a few weeks earlier. Back when I didn’t know my father lived in the city, back when Uncle Marvin was just Grumpy Uncle Marvin, and back when nobody knew my name at school.

  But back before I met Frankie?

  Maybe.

  Maybe not.

  “I don’t know if you should keep living with your uncle,” Frankie blurted out, like if he didn’t say it quickly he wouldn’t have said it at all.

  “He’s not going to hurt me,” I replied. If Uncle Marvin was going to hurt me, I was certain he would have done it years earlier.

  It would have saved him a lot of money in feeding and clothing me.

  Not to mention school fees.

  He definitely wouldn’t have bothered with the stupid school fees.

  “You said yourself how angry he was,” Frankie continued, “What about if he turns that anger around onto you? I’m worried about you staying with him.”

  I waved my hand, batting away all his concerns like they were written between us. “Uncle Marvin won’t do anything to me. Who else would cook dinner for him most nights?”

  “You cook for him?”

  “Yeah, every night apart from Wednesdays.” Frankie seemed surprised. “Don’t you cook for your parents some days?”

  “No. We’re kids.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t cook.”

  Frankie shrugged and dropped the subject. Uncle Marvin told me all kids cooked for their parents. He’d told me that the day my father left and reminded me at least once a month if I complained about it.

  Maybe he was as good at lying as I was.

  Maybe I caught it from him.

  Whatever. At least I’d never go hungry. My expansive cooking skills taught me how to make a can of beans into a full meal that hit all the good parts of the nutrition tree.

  We started to head home after our ice creams were in our bellies. Neither of us said very much but the unspoken words all mingled together and loomed in the air. I couldn’t find enough to pluck and use to make conversation.

  Frankie got off at the same stop as me. We started walking to my street and got to the corner when I stopped. “You don’t have to come any further. I’ll see you Monday at school.”

  “I’ll walk you to your door.”

  “No, really, don’t. Uncle Marvin might see you.”

  “So you are scared of him,” Frankie said. He stood petulantly still, refusing to go on to his house.

  “I’m not scared of him. I just don’t want another lecture about how hanging around with boys will ruin my life. I don’t need that kind of drama this evening.”

  “I don’t feel right leaving you alone. It’s dark.” He stared at his feet, suddenly shy. It was utterly adorable and made all my insides go warm and gooey.

  “You can stand here and watch until I reach the door, if you want. You should be able to see me the whole time.”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

  I was suddenly inundated with the urge to hug him goodbye. It was difficult to ignore the feeling but I had to stuff it back into the box it sprung from and proceed without it.

  “Okay, bye,” I said quickly before leaving him.

  He watched me all the way to the door.

  And then waved me goodnight.

  Mrs. Justice caught me waving back. When she spoke, she scared me half to death. I hadn’t seen her. “Oh, he’s cute. Is he your boyfriend?”

  “No. We’re just friends.” My cheeks burned as I thought about how much I wanted to kiss him earlier. My fingers touched my lips, keeping the memory of Frankie fresh.

  “If you ask me, he doesn’t look like just a friend. He’s got happy love bubbles all around him.”

  “Love bubbles?”

  Her kind face was wrinkled in a grin. “It’s just an expression. He looks happy and is looking at you like you’re the prettiest girl in the world.”

  I wanted to believer her.

  But I thought she was probably lying.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Justice. Have a good night.”

  “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

  I watched her shuffle inside, wondering what had made her appear suddenly after dark. I’d only seen her at night on a handful of occasions. She always went to bed early so she could wake up at dawn and tend to her garden.

  Most of the lights were
out in the house when I entered. The muffled voices coming from the television set in the living room gave away Uncle Marvin’s whereabouts. That would have been the first place I would have looked for him anyway.

  “Hey, Uncle Marvin,” I said while standing in the doorway of the living room. He briefly glanced up and tore his eyes away from the television.

  “You’re late. Where have you been?”

  “At the library doing homework.”

  He grumbled under his breath about how school work was such a waste of time because it didn’t give you skills for the real world. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard it.

  It wasn’t even the hundredth time.

  “What did you get up to today?” I asked brightly, trying to remain casual and not like I wanted to interrogate him about the argument he’d had. I was pretty certain he hadn’t seen me at all at the park.

  “Wasted my time with idiots,” he replied. I could smell the alcohol lacing his breath. It was a good thing there were no open fires around.

  “So you didn’t get anywhere, then?”

  “No.” What followed was a tirade full of swear words I wouldn’t like to repeat. He would have made a soldier blush. “Why do you want to know, anyway?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m just interested in your life.”

  “Nothing interesting about my life.”

  I begged to differ.

  I desperately wanted to ask about the man he’d had an argument with but I didn’t dare. Uncle Marvin had never confided in me over anything and I doubted he was about to change now.

  “You haven’t been hanging around with that boy, have you?” he asked. Once more I tried to suppress the blush rising in my cheeks and failed.

  “No, of course not,” I lied.

  “Something about you is different.”

  It was easy finding a lie for that one. “I guess I’m just worried about my father and all. They still haven’t found him.”

  “They won’t, if you ask me.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Uncle Marvin took a long drink from his bottle of beer before he replied. Little flecks of spit sprayed the air. “He’s a good for nothing waste of space. Probably took off because he got bored. You don’t need to be worrying about him. Your father can look after himself.”

  “Someone could have kidnapped him,” I ventured.

  “Why would they bother?” I shrugged. “There’s lots you don’t know about that piece of shit.”

  Uncle Marvin turned his attention back to the television and I knew I’d lost him. He was dismissing me so he could drink alone with his good friend the Great American Sitcom.

  “Dinner’s late,” he barked on my way out.

  Dinner.

  Of course.

  Wasn’t a fairy godmother meant to come and rescue me sometime?

  Stupid unreliable fairies.

  Chapter 15

  The school hallways were overcrowded with kids all trying to get to class before the bell rang. I was one of them. It was still highly vital for me to stay under the radar of the teachers. Just one more slight on my record and Principal Moore would be sharing space with Uncle Marvin.

  My head was down and my feet were beating a steady rhythm to class. I was so close to making it.

  Until I saw a lost thing.

  Someone had dropped a highlighter pen, left it floundering on the floor near the lockers. I had to get it but that would mean I would also be late for class.

  The lost highlighter.

  Or avoid a trip to Principal Moore’s office.

  The decision was agonizing. A stream of kids lay between me and the lost item. I would have to swim through them just to pass over the corridor. It would have been like dancing ballet in wet concrete.

  But I couldn’t leave it there.

  But I couldn’t be late for class.

  I was frozen in my silent dither dance, torn between my two options and wasting precious time doing nothing. The look of horror was evident on my face.

  Then a miracle happened.

  Frankie swooped in, appearing from nowhere to pick up the lost highlighter and tuck it into his pocket. He caught me staring, giving me a private wink across the corridor.

  I didn’t waste any more time, slipping into the classroom and telling my heart it could slow down now. It wasn’t like I was trying to win a race or anything.

  My bottom hit the seat just before the bell rang. Mr. Barbage closed the door the moment it did. If there was a personal mission Mr. Barbage committed to it was to eradicate tardiness amongst the teenage population.

  A second later, Frankie opened the door to join us. “Mr. Bolero,” the teacher started, “Congratulations, you just earned yourself a trip to detention.”

  “I was a second late,” Frankie defended.

  “So you admit to being late. Good on you for owning up to your shortcomings. Please take a seat before I make it two lunchtime detentions.” They had a stare off for only another second before Frankie relented and took the nearest empty seat.

  I wanted to thank him for his help but we were a classroom apart. Note passing was not my thing so I had to wait for an opportunity to speak with him.

  Which didn’t happen until lunchtime.

  The moment class finished I went searching for Frankie. He wasn’t in the cafeteria so I had to continue looking. Not only did I want to thank him, but I needed to know he still had the highlighter and that it was safe in his possession.

  I had walked all around the school before I eventually found him under the bleachers next to the football field. He was picking up trash. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  His head snapped up when he heard me. “I was in detention.”

  “And now you’re taking it out on the trash?” I guessed, even though it was a lame attempt at trying to work out what he was doing.

  “Mr. Barbage got bored so he sent me out here on trash duty until lunch is over.”

  He was being punished because of me. It felt like a kick to my gut. I started picking up trash and placing it in the can, doing everything I could to help.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Frankie said.

  “I know. But I want to help.”

  We cleaned up the filthy area underneath the bleachers until I was convinced the school was just overrun with pigs. But that was probably unfair to the pigs. I’d never actually witnessed a pig littering before.

  With just five minutes left of lunchtime, the area looked better than I’d ever seen it before. Frankie and I both stopped at the trash can. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the highlighter. It was neon green. “You should look after this for me. It needs to be saved.”

  I took it from his hands, it was warm from being in his pocket. It made me highly aware of Frankie’s warm skin and the brightness of his smile.

  My head shook to get rid of all the imagery.

  “Thanks,” I finally replied.

  “I knew it needed to be rescued.”

  It was impossible to ignore all the butterflies in my stomach. Nobody had ever done something so nice for me before. So many people yelled at me for rescuing things.

  Nobody had ever helped me before.

  “It means a lot to me. You know, that you did that for me,” I stammered out the words like I was typing on a keyboard and I’d forgotten where all the letters were.

  “It was nothing. Really, I just thought it shouldn’t stay lost.” He kicked at a stone on the floor. “You didn’t have to help me pick up trash all lunch.”

  “It was the least I could do.”

  His eyes flicked up to meet mine and all the words I could remember completely vanished from my head. They were scattered on the floor and I couldn’t break eye contact with Frankie to pick them up again.

  Time stopped for those few moments we stared at each other. It was like the world didn’t exist anymore and it was just us. We stood in a snow globe, protected from everything outside our little bubble.

&nb
sp; Our love bubble?

  No, that was stupid.

  Mrs. Justice didn’t know what she was talking about. Considering she was about a hundred years old, she could be forgiven.

  And then the most incredible thing happened.

  Frankie leaned over and kissed me.

  It was quick and so sudden that it took a moment for my brain to catch up. His lips–as soft as I’d imagined–were on mine and then they were gone again.

  It was my first kiss.

  I hoped I remembered it when I was a hundred years old.

  Two hundred, even.

  We both stood there, startled.

  Awkward.

  Embarrassed.

  The butterflies in my stomach were creating a tornado. It was going to sweep me away from the inside before too long. If I continued to stand there it wasn’t going to be pretty.

  The school bell rang, saving us both.

  “See you later,” I said, my breath catching in my throat.

  “Yeah. Later, Em.”

  We left in different directions. Even though we were going to the same room.

  For the next hour during class I couldn’t get the kiss off my mind. I replayed it at least a hundred times, analyzing it from all angles.

  Did I do it right?

  Should I have done something else?

  My gaze purposefully stayed off him during the lesson. I didn’t want to be caught staring at him, even though that would mean he was staring at me too.

  Did I want him to be staring?

  Should I have thanked him for the kiss? Was that something people did?

  I’d never wanted a mother, friends, or a female relative more than I did right at that moment. The truth was I had no idea what I was doing and I needed someone to ask. I couldn’t speak to Frankie, that would have been all kinds of ridiculously wrong. Uncle Marvin? The thought almost made me laugh out loud.

  Uncle Marvin’s idea of kissing would be sharing a bottle of beer with a woman. Two lips, one bottle, that counted as far as he was concerned.

  “Emmeline?” My name cut into my frantic thoughts. I looked up to see the teacher, Mrs. Keating, staring at me expectantly.

  “Em,” I automatically corrected.

  She didn’t seem too pleased with my response. “So sorry for interrupting your daydream. I’m sure it’s highly more interesting than algebra. But I would love to know the answer to question 2B of the homework assignment.”