Lost

by Christina Draper

  On Brian’s 35th birthday, October 2009, it was a cold mess. I think we turned the heat on in early September that year. The kids usually bought Brian one nice gift with Sam putting in the bulk of the money as at that point he was the only one with a job. But that year Carey helped his older brother with his odd jobs over the summer. The two boys mowed lawns, house sat, and walked dogs, and Sam babysat. Anything to earn some extra money. The weekend before Brian’s birthday the two older boys asked me to drive them to the mall. Jimmy and the girls had given them their contributions (about 8 dollars total I think). I drove them to the mall and told them I would pick them up in two hours. Every year the kids had given Brian something he liked—a movie he wanted to see, a T-shirt with his favorite superhero on it, something small and simple. But this year they surprised me. When I picked them up, they refused to let me see what was in the bag.

  “What’s in the Macy’s bag?” I asked as Sam and Jimmy climbed up into the van.

  “Nothing,” they both answered.

  “Really? You’re carrying around an empty bag?” I smiled at them in my rearview mirror.

  “Of course not,” Sam answered. “But, Mom, we found something so awesome for Dad. Can you wait until Tuesday to see it?”

  I could see how excited both the boys were, so I left it alone. But I was anxious to see it. That Tuesday, I ran to the bakery to pick up Brian’s favorite carrot cake, and I got the ingredients to make him his birthday meal—meatloaf with homemade mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. I ran to get the girls from preschool and hurried home to start cooking. That night, the boys were bursting at the seams, and they finally gave up waiting.

  “Here, Dad! Open our present!” Carey put the gift in Brian’s lap.

  “Can’t it wait until after I finish dinner?” Brian smiled at them.

  “Dad!” Sam pleaded, “Come on!”

  And so Brian opened the gift... and our mouths dropped. He pulled out a gorgeous gray cashmere cardigan sweater. I reached out and stroked the sleeve. It was so soft.

  “Wow, that’s a beautiful sweater!” I couldn’t believe it. I had a few cashmere sweaters, and this one was expensive.

  “Do you like it, Dad?” Sam asked, his eyes bright with excitement.

  Brian had tears in his eyes, as we finally realized why the boys scrimped and saved all their summer money. “Like it? This is the most beautiful sweater I’ve ever owned. I love it.”

  And he did. For the next four years, Brian had worn it every chance he got, and now I wanted Carey to have it. Sam told me Carey was the one that found the sweater. Originally, they were going to get Brian a PS3, something I had put off getting for a while. But when Carey saw that sweater, he knew Brian would love it. I took it off the shelf and brought it to my face. I caught a whiff of Brian’s aftershave, and I folded it gently and laid it on the bed.

  The girls had already taken some of Brian’s old T-shirts. They loved to sleep in them, so they were good.

  Now, what to get for Jimmy?

  I searched and discarded a few ideas. Brian’s clothes were still too big for Jimmy, so I didn’t want it to be something like a sweater or a suit. It had to be special. And then I saw it in the back of the closet. Brian’s fishing vest. I hated that thing. It wasn’t easy to get Brian into the mall. He thought it was a waste of time, but occasionally when he needed something, he would come to Miller’s Crossing with me. Miller’s Crossing was what you would call an outdoor mall—tons of stores and restaurants, but with a very open plan.

  “J, why don’t we go to Miller’s today?” I should have known something was up when Brian threw that out at me.

  “What? Really? Great!” I didn’t question him. I just ran and got my purse.

  And the first store we go in was Orvis.

  “I knew it!” I fussed at him good-naturedly.

  “What?” He acted so innocent.

  “You want to buy some fishing crap, and you won’t spend that kind of money without me, so that’s why you dragged me here!” I laughed at him.

  He cuddled up to me and whispered in my ear, “You help me pick out some new gear, and I’ll get you a pretty purse.”

  He knew my weakness. So we got him some new gear, and he wore that damn vest all the time. He had lures all over it, and patches he and the boys bought on their fishing trips. Jimmy loved it and would wear it whenever Brian let him. It would be perfect for Jimmy. It’s a bit long at the moment, but in a few years he would grow into it. I could probably just hang it on his wall for him so it would be near him.

  And I already knew what I wanted. I had to search for it. Brian hid it from me as every time he wore it, I threatened to throw it out. His old University of Virginia sweatshirt. It had holes around the collar, and I had already patched the left elbow for him... twice. The hem was a ragged mess, but he wore that sweatshirt constantly. And on the top shelf in his closet, underneath all the other sweatshirts I bought him, I found it. There was still a stain on the front of it from the first time he changed the oil in my car. It was big on me. The sleeves were well past my fingertips, and the bottom of the sweatshirt covered my knees. I used to wear it when I was pregnant with the girls all the time.

  “Seriously, woman! You’re stretching out my sweatshirt!” Brian fussed at me.

  “First of all, no, I’m not.” I totally was. “Second, you got me knocked up. Deal with it.”

  I was in my ninth month with the twins, and though they were born in August, I was constantly cold. I was also huge. Not like pregnant huge. Like elephant huge. I hadn’t seen my feet in months, and if I wore anything other than flip-flops, I needed Brian or one of the boys to help me put them on. My maternity clothes barely fit at that point, but the sweatshirt did. I don’t think I took it off the last week of my pregnancy. I slept in it and wore it around the house with an old, stretched out pair of Brian’s sweatpants. Since they were too long, Sam had cut the bottom for me so they didn’t drag around the floor.

  I would keep the sweatshirt until it fell apart. I smiled. I’ll probably keep it even after that.

  I clapped my hands together. Okay! Got that done!

  * * *

  I set about taping up the boxes and was almost done when I heard the front door open.

  “Mom?” Carey called into the house.

  “Up here!”

  I heard two distinct sets of feet clomping up the stairs. Sam’s heavier, and Carey’s more agile.

  “What’s up?” Sam stuck his head in.

  And both boys pulled up short when they saw what I was doing.

  “You’re packing up Dad’s stuff?” Carey sounding like he was accusing me of something.

  “I am.” I kept my answer short and looked him right in the eye.

  “Why?” His voice was getting louder, and his eyes were starting to look wild.

  I crossed to him. Our son. He got his license without his father there. He turned 16 on a cold, wet day with no celebration. This felt like the final straw to him.

  “Because, baby, it’s time.” I hugged his rigid body and rubbed his back. After a moment, he sagged into me.

  “Okay. I guess,” he said so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.

  “God! Look at this thing, Mom. It’s so ugly!” Sam picked up the fishing vest and laughed.

  “I know, right? Your Dad loved that thing.”

  “Jimmy should have this. He loved it. I think he’s the only one of us that loved fishing as much as Dad and Grandpa.” Sam surprised me.

  “That is exactly what I was thinking.” I walked over to Sam and gave him a subtle high five. Great minds think alike!

  “Can I have something too?”Carey asked.

  “Absolutely, sweetie. I was thinking you might like this.” I picked up the sweater they had so lovingly picked out for Brian and handed it to Carey.

  I saw tears fill his eyes when he took it from me. He thanked me and ran to his room. Sam started after him.

  “No, let him be.” I gently grabbed Sam’s ar
m. “This has been hard on everyone, but sometimes it feels good to just cry. To just cry and remember.”

  Sam nodded and saw Brian’s suit, “You aren’t getting rid of Dad’s suit, are you?”

  “No, I thought you might like it.”

  Sam nodded. “Can I get something else too?”

  “Sure, whatever you want,” I told him.

  Sam went into our closet and came out with two ties.

  “Oh!” I said trying to hold in tears. “I remember those.”

  “You helped me pick them out for Dad, remember? You said he needed some nice clothes when he went to business meetings. He hated wearing ties.” Sam smiled sadly as he remembered.

  “Yep. He always took them off as soon as he walked out the door.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever wear the ties, but I would still like to keep them.”

  “I think that’s a great idea. I’m just going to pack up Dad’s clothes today. Maybe in a few weeks, we can go through Dad’s workshop. He has a lot of stuff down there.”

  “Some of the guys that used to work for Dad might like the stuff,” Sam suggested.

  “I had an idea for the stuff, and we can talk about it later. But Dad wanted to take you guys on a really cool vacation this summer. I was thinking we could clean up the house, and then still do that. What do you think?”

  “Yeah! I’d love that. I think it would be good to get away from it all.”

  “Yeah?” I was pleased that Sam seemed to understand my intentions. “Well, let’s think about where we want to go, and we can discuss it tonight at dinner. How does that sound?”

  “Cool. I’m gonna tell the crew, and we can all think of some ideas.”

  “You going to the park with everyone?” I asked him.

  “No, I actually have to work later. But I told Mrs. B I would come get Jimmy, Jess, and Mag’s stuff for them and bring it down.”

  “Okay, I have their stuff in a bag on Jimmy’s bed. Is Carey going?”

  “He said he was. Now I don’t know.”

  “Well, I’ll go ask him. You go grab the bag.”

  * * *

  I walked down the hall to Carey’s room and knocked. “Carey? Can I come in?”

  “Sure,” he called to me.

  I opened the door and took in his room. He had repainted it last summer. Brian had told him if he wanted it another color, he was on his own. So Carey bought the paint himself and took up the challenge. He had painted the walls plain white, but then splattered the walls with all shades of blue, green, and black. It looked cool. I’ll give him that. Posters of his favorite bands adorned the walls.

  “Who is Iced Earth?” Brian asked when Carey brought us upstairs to see the finished project.

  “They’re a band, Dad.” Carey replied in a tone that reminded us just how old we were getting.

  “A band? Like what? I mean, what do they sing.”

  “They don’t really sing, babe. They kind of yell.” I answered him.

  “You know who they are?” Brian was surprised.

  “I do.” Obviously I was cooler than my husband.

  “Okay. If you say so.” Brian walked into the room. “It looks great, Carey. It really does.”

  Carey had beamed under Brian’s praise. He took great pride in his room, and it showed. He had asked me to get him a simple, navy blue comforter. And he found the old drafting desk at an antique store himself. He brought it home and fixed it up with some help from Brian, and I bought him a stool to go along with it. And on the floor, he had a Duke throw rug. Just like Sam. Just like Jimmy.

  I snapped back into the moment and walked into his room. Carey was laying on his bed, and I sat next to him. “Babe. You okay?”

  “Yeah. I just miss him. You know, Mom? I really miss him. It’s funny. Sometimes I think I hear him.” He turned over onto his back and looked at me.

  “Like in your dreams?” I asked gently. Carey didn’t talk about Brian much, and I didn’t want to push him.

  “No, more like... all the time. When I’m awake. When I’m running. Like the other day when I went for a run. I was running down the bike path, near the lake, and I stopped to tie my shoe. I swear I heard Dad tell me to get up and move.”

  “I do too.” I wanted our son to know it was okay, that he wasn’t going crazy. “Sometimes, in the morning when I go out back for a cup of coffee, I think I hear him too.”

  “What does he tell you?”

  “Nothing much. Just that he loves me. Maybe it’s what I want to hear... what I miss hearing.”

  Carey nodded and turned to the window. “Can I stay home with you today, Mom?”

  “Sure. Maybe you can help me go through some of Dad’s stuff.” I told him.

  He nodded, and I stood up to go tell Sam. “I’m gonna tell Sam you’re staying home. Meet me in my room when you’re ready.”

  * * *

  I left and went to find Sam. He was downstairs waiting, “Hey. Carey’s going to stay home with me. Can you tell Bee that for me?”

  “Sure. I’ll let her know. Be right back.” Sam nodded and left with the swim bag.

  I watched him go down the driveway for a moment, and then went back upstairs to finish up. Carey was already in our room.

  “Dad had a lot of T-shirts,” he noted.

  I laughed. Brian did have a lot of T-shirts. It was an easy gift for him. Sports teams, superheroes, movies, bands he liked—he had them all. He teased me when I pilfered one to sleep in, but why get a nightshirt when he had so many available?

  “Remember this one?” Carey showed me a black T-shirt with a pirate skull and crossbones on it.

  “The Goonies!” I laughed. “Your Dad loved that movie.”

  “And here’s that dorky Mickey Mouse shirt Dad used to wear to mow the lawn.”

  We took the kids to Disney World a few years ago, and I had insisted on getting a Minnie Mouse shirt. Brian found me one and bought the matching Mickey Mouse shirt. The girls loved it, but the boys thought it was so dorky. So of course that meant Brian wore it all the time.

  I saw his white Aerosmith T-shirt and grabbed it. “I think I’m going to keep this one.” It was the first concert he ever took me to.

  I turned around and grabbed some more clothes, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Carey put the Mickey Mouse shirt under our bed. I assumed he would retrieve it later. I smiled and said nothing—let him have his secrets.

  * * *

  Sam returned from Bee and Anthony’s and joined us. We boxed up jeans and polos, winter coats and shoes. And right as we were finishing up, I heard the doorbell ring.

  “Oh, it’s noon. I bet that’s animal control. Sam, grab the door for me. I’m just going to wash my hands.”

  Sam nodded and ran down the stairs to get the door. I heard him talking, and then bringing the officers through the house to the back door. I washed my hands and put my hair back up. It had started to fall out of the ponytail I threw it in as we worked. When I was done, I ran downstairs to see what was going on.

  I saw Sam standing on the patio with a man and a woman from animal control. The female officer was inspecting the area where the cat was found, and Sam was pointing to the far back corner of the yard, while the other officer listened.

  I opened the door and stepped out. “Sorry about that. We were upstairs putting some things away. Is everything okay?”

  Sam turned to look at me, confusion evident on his face.

  “Ma’am, my name is Jack Bryant, with county animal control enforcement. Thank you for not letting anyone back here until we had a chance to come back out.”

  I shook the hand he held out to me. “Not a problem. Thank you for waiting until noon to come out! Last night was...”

  I just let that hang. I wasn’t sure what last night was.

  “I can imagine. Well, your son showed me where the body was found, and I’m going to take a look up by your fence, just to see where it could have come in.”

  “It? So you are saying this is an ani
mal?” I wanted to be sure. I swear, I felt as if a murder had taken place in my backyard, all this talk of bodies.

  “Well, I’m not saying anything for sure, but the prints that were found do seem to indicate a large dog.”

  “Ma’am?”

  I turned around when the other officer addressed me.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. Julie Klevan.” I stuck my hand out, and she took it.

  “Penny Barnes. I know this is confusing, but we just had to be sure that it wasn’t something else that came into your yard. We’ve gotten calls on people with exotic pets.”

  “Exotic pets? Like what? Tigers? Monkeys? That kind of thing?” Sam asked.

  “That kind of thing and more. People smuggle all kinds of things into the country to keep as pets.”

  “Penny?” Officer Bryant called out. “Come look at this.”

  Officer Barnes trotted over to wear her partner was kneeling. The two of them studied whatever was on the ground, and then stood up. They walked over to us with concern etched all over their faces.

  “Mrs. Klevan, do any of your neighbors have large dogs?” Officer Barnes asked.

  “Umm... Sam, don’t the Pratles have a German Shepherd?”

  Sam nodded. “They do. Do you think that’s what did this?”

  Officer Bryant shook his head. “No. Bigger than that. Maybe a Great Dane, something that size.”

  “Oh, you mean that big...” I was stumped. “I really don’t think anyone in the neighborhood has anything bigger than a Shepherd or maybe a Golden Retriever.”

  The two animal control officers looked at one another, and then Officer Bryant ran his hand over his face. “I hate to say this, but those don’t even look like dog tracks.”

  “Wait, what?” I was taken aback—and worried. All I needed was some freak with a pet lion to get lax. “What kind of tracks do you think they are then?”