Lost & Found

by Ashley John

  Poppy was sat between them playing with her colorful breakfast cereal.

  “I drank that last night,” she said, hugging her cup even tighter, “this is coffee. My head is pounding. Did Oliver stay last night?”

  “Yeh, he slept on the floor,” Charlie quickly lied, “he must have gone this morning.”

  He couldn't look his mother in the eyes as he lied to her. Images of Oliver's naked body over his in the flickering candle light flashed before his eyes, but the candles quickly turned into roaring flames that engulfed everything in sight.

  “You better get ready for work,” she sighed, “it's nearly 10.”

  Charlie hadn't even thought about work. He'd been so busy thinking about his mother that the Surf Club hadn't crossed his mind.

  “Do you have Porter's number?” Charlie asked.

  She grabbed her ancient cellphone off the table and flicked through her numbers.

  “No, but I have the Surf Club? Aunt Evelyn put it there in case I needed to get hold of you.”

  She passed the cellphone to Charlie and his heart pounded as the dial tone echoed through his mind. He didn't know if he knew Porter well enough to start asking for days off, especially after he'd just had time off with Oliver to get the furniture.

  “Porter's Surf School,” Porter said, answering the phone in a professional voice that Charlie had never heard before.

  “Hey Porter, it's Charlie.”

  “Oh hi Charlie,” Porter dropped the act, “I heard about the fire, how's your mother doing?”

  “Yeh, she's fine,” Charlie said quickly, glancing at her as she sipped her coffee, “listen, I was wondering if I'd be able to have today off. We've got a lot to sort out over here.”

  “Oh of course,” Porter said, “it's quiet here anyway and I'm sure Oliver will cope.”

  “Thanks,” Charlie said, “you're a life saver.”

  After Porter told him to pass on his best regards to his mother, he hung up the phone and threw it back onto the scratched table surface.

  “Get your best clothes on,” Charlie said, “we're going job hunting.”

  She rolled her eyes and slumped back into her chair, before slapping her hands on the table and jumping up to head to the bedroom.

  I'm not leaving Surf Bay. Not now.

  ***

  “That was Charlie,” Porter said as she hung up, “he's not coming in today.”

  “Oh,” Oliver said.

  He couldn't ignore the twinge of upset he felt. It was like he finally had want he wanted, but could see it slipping away just as quickly.

  “What's going on with you two anyway?” Porter asked.

  Charlie's sweating body under his raced through his mind as he remembered the words he'd uttered as he climaxed.

  “I told him I loved him,” Oliver groaned, putting his face in his hands and setting his elbows down on the counter.

  “Oh dude, I'm so sorry,” Porter said, slapping him on the shoulder.

  “I meant it though,” Oliver groaned again, his voice muffling in his hands.

  “You've got it bad, haven't you?” Porter laughed, “When did you tell him?”

  Oliver nodded and spun around, leaning against the counter staring at the row of colorful wax bottles.

  “We were having sex!” Oliver dropped his head, not wanting to remember how happy he'd felt when they were doing it.

  “You had sex?” Porter cried, “Why didn't you tell me?”

  “Because it only happened yesterday! It was amazing, and then we came into town and saw the fire and shit just hit the fan.”

  “Damn,” Porter sighed, pulling his clothes off in front of Oliver and wriggling into his black wet suit, “did he say it back?”

  Oliver felt his heart twinge and he furrowed his brow heavily and closed his eyes.

  “Nope,” Oliver sighed, “and that's not the best bit. He seems to think his mother is going to try and move them across the country.”

  Porter let Oliver zip the wetsuit up his tanned back as Oliver told himself that he would do everything in his power to stop Charlie leaving.

  “Jobs are hard to get around here these days,” Porter sighed, “she was lucky that Mary broke her hip or she wouldn't have got that job at the diner. The tourist season has been terrible so far this year.”

  “Are things really that bad here?” Oliver asked.

  “Have you ever known it be this quiet?”

  Oliver hadn't. In fact, he'd never known town be quiet at all, even in the winter months. The usual tourists that flocked to the sunny retreat every year still came, but the flow of people had dwindled with every year.

  “I don't even know if we're going to last past this season,” Porter sighed.

  “Is it that bad?”

  Oliver knew things weren't that great, but he'd never considered that the Surf Club would ever close.

  “I haven't taken a wage from this place in weeks. I hired Charlie because you know how we always get snowed under when it gets going, but it just hasn't this year. I can hardly sack him now though can I? Not after what's happened.”

  No you fucking can't.

  Dizziness swept over Oliver's brain. If Charlie didn't have a job, and his mother couldn't find one, they'd have no reason to stay in Surf Bay.

  “I need to do something,” Oliver sighed, “or I'm going to lose him. I'm not going to let that happen.”

  “Well whatever you do dude, it needs to be fast. I can't promise I'll be able to keep either of you here come the fall.”

  Oliver wasn't bothered about himself. He had money to fall back on. Charlie didn't.

  ***

  “Are you sure you have nothing?” Charlie begged.

  The toy shop owner swayed his head slowly from side to side before eying Charlie up and down for what felt like the 10th time since he'd entered the shop.

  “Sorry boy,” he said in a silky and deep voice, “I hired young Christopher over there only last week.”

  Charlie glanced over to a nervous looking boy who can't have been any older than 16, stocking a display of model airplanes.

  “If anything comes up, please let me know,” he sighed, handing the pervy man his mother's cell number that he'd scribbled on the back of pieces of cardboard he'd fished from the trash.

  The man looked less than impressed when he saw the words 'Sarah Rodgers' above the number.

  “Any luck?” Charlie asked his mother outside of the store.

  “Nothing!” she cried, staring at the burnt out shell of the diner, “Nowhere is hiring.”

  “I've given out a few numbers, but there's literally nothing.”

  Charlie didn't want to sound defeated, but it was so hard to stay positive when the worst case scenario was happening before his eyes.

  “I'm hungry,” Poppy wailed, “I want ice cream.”

  “Be quiet Poppy!” she snapped, letting go of Poppy's hand.

  Pouting, Poppy pressed her face up against the shop window and stared at the display of brightly colored stuffed fish and sharks that had changed since they'd last visited.

  “We'll find something,” Charlie smiled weakly, “there's got to be a mall or something within a few miles of this place.”

  “I don't drive Charlie! How can I afford to get to and from these jobs and arrange childcare for Poppy until school starts?”

  “What about Aunt Evelyn. We could move back in with her for a bit?”

  Charlie knew he was clutching at straws, but he wanted to cover every base.

  “When we lived there, I gave her rent money. I was giving her as much as I’d be paying for our apartment. She's a kind lady, but she's living off her husband's life insurance and she can't afford to keep us on the off chance something comes up. I only got that job at the diner because his wife broke her hip and couldn't work!”

  Desperately looking up and down the street, he stared at all of the stores and couldn't see any that they hadn't been inside.

  There must be something else. There must
be.

  “Isn't that Frank?” Charlie said, staring at an old man who was standing outside of the burnt out diner.

  His mother turned around and instantly ran over to the elderly man. Clutching Poppy's hand, Charlie followed.

  “Frank,” she cried, “how are you?”

  “Oh hi Sarah,” he said glumly.

  She hugged him, but he didn't look like he was in any mood for hugs.

  “I can't believe this has happened,” she said, staring at the unrecognizable structure.

  “I've lost everything,” he sighed, “this place was my livelihood and it's gone.”

  “Can't it be saved?”

  “If it can, It won't be by me. I don't have the money or the strength to rebuild this place.”

  “Don't talk like that Frank!” Sarah said, resting her hand gently on his arm.

  “No, it's true,” Charlie watched the frail old man tear up as he tried to see his business through the ashes, “it's all gone. I'm putting it on the market, not that it'll sell.”

  “Oh Frank,” she sighed.

  “I just came down to say one last goodbye to this place,” he glanced up at the burnt out, melted neon sign that once read 'Frank's Diner', “you were a pleasure to work with young lady.”

  With one last hug, he hobbled down the street towards his long overdue retirement. As he turned the corner and disappeared, it felt like their last bit of hope was vanishing into a cloud of dark smoke.

  “We're fucked,” she mumbled, looking down to the ground and shaking her head, “completely fucked.”

  She didn't even notice the look of shock on Poppy's face at her language. Instead, she ran her fingers slowly across what used to be the window frame. The glass had been swept away from the street, but the shards had long since sunk deep into his mother's chest.

  “There must be something,” Charlie demanded, “there must be a way to sort this out.”

  “There's nothing!” she cried, “I can't magic up a job.”

  The look of desperation and anger in her eyes was a look that Charlie had seen many times over the years and it scared him. That look was usually followed with being woken up in the middle of the night to be told excitedly about job opportunities on the horizon.

  “What about the Surf Club?” a light bulb lit over Charlie's head, “Porter might have something?”

  “It's worth a shot,” she sighed, gripping Poppy's hand and wandering slowly down the street towards the beach.

  Charlie crossed his fingers in his pockets and prayed that Porter would be able to do something to save them

  He knows my mother, he's got to be able to give her some work.

  ***

  “Charlie!” Oliver cried as he walked through the door with Sarah and Poppy.

  Oliver restrained his arms and resisted the deep urge to wrap them around him and smoother him in kisses.

  “Where's Porter?” Charlie asked flatly.

  It's nice to see you too.

  “He's down at the beach teaching a lesson,” he said, “we had a walk-in.”

  “How long's he gonna be?” Charlie asked, looking past Oliver and out towards the beach.

  “I don't know, why?” Oliver asked nervously.

  If this is him quitting his job to leave...

  “I just wanted to know if he might have any work,” he said, “for my mom.”

  The dagger in Oliver's gut sunk deeper. He pulled Charlie to one side so that he was out of reach of Sarah and Poppy and stared him dead in the eyes. Even through the blank stare, they still dazzled that sparkling green that Oliver loved so much.

  “I don't think that's going to work,” Oliver started slowly, “Porter is in a bit of...difficulty. He was telling me today that he doesn't know if this place is going to survive past this season. It's so dead Charlie! The tourists just don't want to come here anymore.”

  Oliver could see the last flickering candle of hope extinguish with his words. The color instantly drained from his cheeks and Oliver just wanted to pull him in close and tell him everything would be okay.

  “We're screwed,” he said, resigned to his fate, “absolutely screwed.”

  “Is there nothing in town?” Oliver asked, already knowing the answer.

  “There's nothing. We went everywhere on Main Street and they all said the same thing.”

  Oliver sighed. Once somebody had a job in Surf Bay, they very rarely let it go.

  “I'll sort this,” Oliver said.

  “How?” Charlie dropped his eyes to the ground.

  “I don't know,” Oliver admitted, “but I will.”

  Charlie shrugged, and rolled his head around his shoulders, landing his eyes coldly on Oliver's.

  “You can't stop this anymore than I can,” Charlie sighed, “we'd be stupid to try.”

  “She can't force you to move,” Oliver said, “just stay. We'll get a place or something.”

  “I can't leave my family,” Charlie said, “she'll move hundreds of miles away and she'll never come back here. She'll keep moving with Poppy, and eventually, she'll have moved so many times she'll forget she left her only son in Surf Bay.”

  “I don't think she would.”

  “I know my mother better than anyone,” Charlie snapped, “I can't leave her alone.”

  “What about me?” Oliver asked, trying to force Charlie's eyes to look into his.

  He was looking for a flicker of what he'd seen when they'd been making love. He wanted to see that happiness, but it had long since gone. The hurt and fear was more present in his eyes than it ever had been.

  “I need to put my family first,” Charlie said.

  Oliver could tell he was choking back the tears as he forced his own back.

  “But what about us?” Oliver said through gritted teeth.

  “I can't make you any promises,” Charlie gulped.

  For a moment, he lingered like he was going to hug Oliver, but instead, he took a step back and dropped his head and quickly walked back to his mother, ushering them out of the door without looking back.

  Oliver didn't know who that person was that just left, but it wasn't the person who he told he loved.

  C

  hapter 21

  Over dinner, Charlie moved his fork around the sparse meal, but he wasn't hungry. He'd have given his leftovers to Poppy to make sure she had enough food, but she seemed to be copying her big brother and she wasn't eating either.

  Maybe she does know what's going on.

  They'd tried to keep all smiles for her sake, but she wasn't stupid. The moving had happened enough in her lifetime to know when it was coming. By her age, Charlie was more than aware of what his life was like.

  I thought it would be different this time.

  Smiling feebly at his mother, she smiled back. She'd given herself the least food, but she was finding it just as hard to eat.

  How can we pretend everything is okay?

  Part of the reason Charlie couldn't eat was because he couldn't get Oliver off his mind. Everything had happened so fast over the last 24 hours, his brain hadn't had time to process it.

  I lost my damn virginity.

  Every time he thought about what had happened on Oliver's bed with the curtains closed, he felt a warm bubbling eruption in his chest, but he had to ignore it. He had to focus on his family.

  But Oliver said he loved me.

  Shaking the thought from his head, he tried to eat some of the frozen veg that was rolling around on his plate, but it was cold and chewy and he couldn't stomach any more than the few mouthfuls he'd already managed.

  “Bedtime Poppy,” she said, dumping her own fork on her plate and taking it over to the sink, “get your jammies on and I'll come and read you a story.”

  Usually, she'd kick up a fuss about having to go to bed so early, especially when she hadn't even finished her dinner, but instead she picked herself up and waddled off to her bed room without even giving Charlie the usual bedtime kiss.

  She knows.

 
When she returned from the story telling, his mother collapsed into the chair next to Charlie, and pulled the bottle of whiskey towards her. She stared at it for a moment before unscrewing the top and guzzling down mouthfuls of the strong alcohol.

  “What good is that going to do?” Charlie snapped.

  He wanted to snatch the bottle out of her hand and slap some sense into her, but she'd already hit self-destruct.

  This is how it always starts.

  Her cellphone started to vibrate and bounce on the wooden table, but she just stared at it and necked more of the booze.

  “Aren't you going to answer it?” Charlie cried, after the vibrating became too much.

  She looked shiftily from the phone and to Charlie.

  “It's probably just Aunt Evelyn,” she said quickly, “I'll call her back.”

  Charlie could spot the lie before she'd even finished telling it. He stared at her for a second, and she stared back without blinking. Her eyes were already starting to glaze over from the alcohol, but when Charlie lunged for the vibrating cell, her reactions hadn't been slowed down.

  “I want to talk to her,” Charlie said through gritted teeth, not wanting to wake Poppy.

  “You know it's not her,” she screamed without the same consideration.

  “Who is it then?” Charlie demanded.

  How can she be in trouble already? It's only been a day.

  The phone stopped vibrating so she slammed it back down on the counter, but no sooner had she done it, than it was ringing again.

  “Who wants to get hold of you so badly?”

  She didn't answer. Instead, she flinched with each vibration and took another mouthful of the dwindling bottle.

  “Answer me for god sake,” Charlie cried, “who is it?”

  “It's a fucking loan shark,” she screamed slamming the bottle down.

  Charlie's lip instantly curled up and his brows dropped. His mother had done some stupid things over the years, but he'd never had the urge to slap her as much as he did now.

  “You stupid woman,” he screamed, “how have you borrowed money already? The diner only burst into flames yesterday.”

  Ripping the back off of the cellphone, she tore the battery out and threw it across the kitchen causing it to bounce off the freshly painted wall.