All the Lost Things

by Michelle Sacks

  “Look, that cloud is the shape of a diplodocus,” I said. Dad looked up.

  “Diplodocus is my third-best dinosaur, after Velociraptor and Dilophosaurus. Everyone says Tyrannosaurus Rex is their best but actually they were very dumb and their brains were tiny like peas and even smaller than their tiny hands.”

  Dad smiled. He scrunched up his popsicle wrapper into a tight ball. I licked my mouth all around with my tongue to get out all the flavor. Dad had gone quiet.

  “This is so much fun,” I said. I scowled. “Mom didn’t even call yet to speak to me,” I said. “She doesn’t care. She doesn’t miss me. She only cares about having her own fun AS USUAL.”

  “That’s not true, Doll,” Dad said. His voice was heavy and his eyes looked at me with their sad spilling out. “She’s just…enjoying some time with Rita this weekend. Sometimes…sometimes moms need a break.”

  “From what?”

  “From…well, probably from me.”

  “Well, she hurt my feelings. And she makes me mad sometimes. A lot, actually.”

  Dad sighed. He scrunched the wrapper some more in his knuckles and then he stood up and stretched his arms over his head. His shirt lifted up and I could see his hairy bear belly underneath.

  “Stay away, Mr. Bear,” I warned.

  “Come on,” Dad said. “Time to get back on the road.”

  “Are we still going to the place?”

  “You bet.”

  “That’s good.”

  We climbed back inside the car and Dad set his phone on the console. My shirt was damp and I lifted it off my skin.

  “Can you turn on the air-conditioning?” I said. “I’m melting into a puddle.”

  Dad turned up the dial, and we drove off.

  Clemesta and I went back to looking out the window for a stretch, while Dad listened to the radio and the Jeep ate up the road. It never ran out.

  “What time is it now?” I asked Dad. It felt like hundreds of hours had passed.

  “Two forty-five.”

  “How much longer to go?”

  “A while,” Dad said.

  “But how long till we stop again?”

  Dad sighed. “I don’t know. A while.”

  “Like minutes or hours?”

  Dad put his hand to his forehead. “Jesus, Dolly, I don’t know. Later. Stop nagging, will you?” He switched the radio up so it was too loud to talk.

  I clamped my mouth shut and sewed up my lips with invisible thread.

  “He’s trying to stay focused,” I told Clemesta. “We can’t bug him.” I sat very still but Clemesta fidgeted.

  “Dolly,” she said. “I have the worried-feeling in my horse stomach.”

  “Why?”

  “I think it’s all that stuff with YOU KNOW WHO.”

  “I don’t remember anything,” I said.

  She bit her lip. “I think I do.”

  “Well, I want to forget everything about him. He has the ugliest heart in the world and I wish it would stop in his chest and make him die on the spot before anyone could call an ambulance to save him. He is the WORST person in the world and that isn’t EXAGGERATING it’s very, very true.”

  Clemesta nodded. “I know.”

  I made a face. “I bet he’s covered in warts all over his body.”

  “I bet he has lice, and DIABETES.”

  “What’s that one, again?”

  “It’s when your blood turns into sugar and you have to get injections every day.”

  I looked at Dad’s nice head and tiny-bit balding hair. YOU KNOW WHO has silver hair and a lot of it. He always wears a black suit and fruity aftershave and a gold watch, and Mom looks at him like he is the best thing she has ever seen.

  “That, Dolly, that’s the kind of man your dad used to be.”

  Well, WHO CARES, because Dad is more handsome and delightful than YOU KNOW WHO, even when he’s being silent and a tiny bit grouchy.

  I watched him as he floated his arm out the window to feel the breeze on his skin. The hairs went goosey and prickled up. I opened the window in the back and did the same, and the sun made a block of light on my arm.

  HOLY FATHER.

  CRACKER BARREL.

  SALVATION METHODIST. ALL WELCOME.

  BEST DANG FRIED CHICKEN.

  I yawned.

  Dad changed radio stations. We drove by a truck carrying a whole row of new houses, all ready to be planted in the ground like spring flowers. “That means you can move any time you like and your house always goes with you,” I said. “Like a snail or a turtle.”

  “Or a periwinkle,” Clemesta said.

  “You are the REMEMBERING QUEEN,” I said. “But you shouldn’t become a show-off.”

  We did more and more driving. I made faces out the window but no one was paying attention. In the mirror, I made faces too, so Dad would look up. I put my fingers up my nose and pulled them out again. One had a slimy booger on it and I wiped it under the seat.

  “No one will find it,” Clemesta said. “So it isn’t gross.”

  I set her on my lap and braided her mane to pass the time. I tried to do my hair too, but the pieces kept falling out. I tried not to get upset at my INCOMPETENCE.

  I leaned forward to talk in Dad’s ear.

  “I’m not nagging, I’m just saying hi,” I said.

  Dad smiled. “I’m sorry, Dolly,” he said. “I’m a little preoccupied today.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I can zip it and throw away the key and not bother you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” I looked down his collar at the black hairs poking out. They were curly and damp and I wanted to pet them like fur.

  “Where are we sleeping tonight?”

  “We’ll find something,” Dad said.

  “Something lovely. Like with a Jacuzzi instead of a tub. And a bed in the shape of a heart, with velvet walls. And remote-control drapes.”

  “Mm.”

  “Another word for drapes is curtains.”

  “Mm.”

  I shut up my mouth again.

  Outside, the sky with its shadowy colors was warning us that it would soon be night again, which meant TWO NIGHTS away from home. I was happy to have a new hairbrush and new pajamas, and actually a whole bag of new stuff just for me. I rubbed my eyes. All the sign reading was making them tired and blurry. I probably need glasses like that girl Farrah in my class but whenever I tell Mom about my fuzzy eyes she says, “Oh no, we don’t want you to be a four-eyes, Dolly.”

  She hasn’t taken me for the eye exam yet even though Miss Ellis said it was RECOMMENDED. Probably it’s because Mom thinks smart isn’t everything you need to be in the world, so she doesn’t mind if I can’t read the board without going squinty.

  Dad took a turn and then another one, and then we were driving through a very empty-looking town, with the mountain behind it and the streets quiet like everyone was already asleep in their beds.

  “Where are we?”

  “It’s called Clifton Forge,” Dad said. “We’ll sleep here tonight.”

  “Clifton Forge,” I said. It sounded mysterious and magical. Dad told me that a forge was a special fire that could burn hot enough to bend metal.

  “Will we get to see the fire?”

  “I’m not sure,” Dad said. “It might only be something they did a long time ago.”

  We drove in the almost-dark and pulled up outside a house that was actually a hotel, called THE RED CARRIAGE INN. Dad left me in the car while he went inside to see if they had any room for us.

  I didn’t like being alone in the car in the night, but Clemesta was keeping extra-special guard to protect us. I lifted her up and gave her a kiss.

  “Don’t distract me,” she said. “I’m keeping watch.”

  “Oh, sorry.” I set her back down.

  “Dolly,” she said. “Aren’t you worried? We are very far from home.”

  “Yes but we’re with Dad,” I said. “You can go anywhere with a dad or a mom because their jo
b is to look after you forever. That’s how it works.”

  “But what if we go so far that we can’t ever get back home?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Clemesta!” I said. “You are stealing all the fun out of this day. Now stop.”

  Dad’s head popped out from behind the front door and he gave me a double thumbs-up sign which is what you do for good news.

  We had everything from the shopping spree to carry inside but Dad took most of it and his duffel and I just held onto Clemesta.

  The woman at the front desk was the manager and the owner and she also lived upstairs right next to where we would be sleeping, which is a very good idea for a hotel. Her hair was purply with the white roots on top trying to take over.

  The house was like an old-timey house, with furniture from hundreds of years ago and lots of pictures of black-and-white old people on the walls and dried dead flowers tied with ribbons on the shelf.

  The woman said her name was Darlene and she said it like DAAAARRR-LIYAN and I liked very much how it sounded in the air.

  “Just you two?” she said, and Dad nodded.

  “Lucky Mom,” Darlene said. She laughed and her whole face scrunched up and made four rolls of chins under her neck.

  Darlene had a bunch of different kinds of porcelain dogs sitting at the front door. There was a bulldog and a poodle and a German shepherd all crammed to one side, and then on the other a terrier and an Airedale and one of those huge Saint Bernards. They took up almost all the space in the room.

  I know all the dog breeds by heart because the library has a series of the best books in the world called ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA and each one has a million different facts inside, with pictures and stories and every time I visit I read from a different section so I can discover something new. As well as knowing all the dog breeds, I know all the horses, like Palominos and Lipizzaners and Missouri Fox Trotters, and I can name the planets and the flowers and dissect a human body, which is another of my favorite pages of the encyclopedia even though some parts of it where they show all the veins and muscles are a little gross and make my stomach do a flip-flop.

  “I like your dogs,” I said to Darlene. “The Airedale is my favorite.”

  “Well, aren’t you a smart little lady,” Darlene said. “You can go ahead and pet them if you like. They won’t bite.”

  I petted the bulldog and I was glad he wasn’t drooling like a real dog because then my hand would get covered in spit. The Airedale didn’t want to get petted because he was from a noble family and you aren’t allowed to touch them or their greatness will rub off on your hands.

  The poodle said his name was Roger. He told me he had run away from the circus because his mean owner had made him stand on his hind legs all day long juggling balls.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, but then he told me that the tiger ate the owner one day during rehearsals and unlocked the cages for the other animals and they all escaped together.

  “It’s a happy ending,” he said. “And Darlene doesn’t make me do tricks.”

  A girl came out of the other room with a baby in her arms.

  “This here is Jolene,” Darlene said. “And my grandbaby, Dorie.”

  Jolene’s teeth were weird-looking like they’d all fallen over and her voice sounded very sleepy. She looked the same age as my sitter Lucy at home, who is fifteen and a spelling bee champion who has won lots of prizes. She can’t come around to look after me anymore because of the BILLS BILLS BILLS but sometimes I see her in the park babysitting other kids whose dads make more money and we wave and say hello.

  Jolene’s belly was very round and sticking out, like there was another baby inside waiting to come out. The one in her arms cried and Jolene bounced her on her hip like she was dancing.

  Dad paid Darlene and listened while she explained the HOUSE RULES.

  I tickled Dorie’s foot through her faded pink socks.

  “I wish we had a baby at home,” I said.

  “No brothers or sisters?” Jolene said.

  I shook my head. “Mom didn’t want to lose her figure again after me. She’s a famous actress, that’s why.”

  “Is that right?” Jolene said. She switched Dorie to her other hip.

  “Yeah,” I said. “She was on a TV show a long time ago and she does commercials now. And she has a new show coming soon. But that’s meant to be a secret,” I said. “Don’t tell anyone.”

  “I won’t,” Jolene said. “I was in a pageant once,” she said. “Miss Clifton Forge.”

  “Did you win?”

  She shook her head. “If I had, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

  “Where would you be?”

  “Probably Orlando,” Jolene said. “I always wanted to be one of those dolphin trainers at SeaWorld.”

  “I love dolphins,” I said. “They’re very smart. They have advanced brains, so they are much smarter than the other sea creatures.”

  Jolene yawned. She had very pink skin, like someone had rubbed it with sandpaper. Her eyelashes were blue.

  Dorie grabbed my finger and stuck it inside her mouth. It felt hot and gummy in there, and her teeth scratched my skin. “She likes me,” I said.

  Jolene frowned. She opened Dorie’s diaper and sniffed it. “She’s always taking a dump or about to,” she said.

  “Yuck.”

  “Tell me about it.” She made a face.

  “Is that another baby in there?” I pointed to her stomach.

  She nodded, but she didn’t smile. Probably she didn’t like being fat.

  Dad called out to me and I patted Dorie on her bald head.

  “Time for bed, little sleepyhead,” I said.

  I followed Dad up the stairs. At the top of the landing, a gray cat was taking a nap. I quickly looked at Dad because he HATES all cats and usually pushes them out of the way with his foot, like that time the neighbor’s cat Felix came around to our house and he got a big fat kick in the guts with Dad’s boot.

  “Otherwise he’ll come back every day,” Dad said.

  Felix yelped and I felt bad that he had to get taught a lesson that hurt so much.

  Darlene’s gray cat scooted away before Dad could kick him, LUCKY CAT.

  Our room had two small beds sitting next to each other. There was no tub in the middle of the room and no refrigerator, but Darlene said she’d made the curtains and the quilts herself, and they were very pretty with red and pink stripes. Two pictures made of stitches were framed on the wall. One said GOD IS LOVE and the other said GOD BLESS AMERICA. On the desk, there was a BIBLE WORD SEARCH puzzle book and a stack of little booklets called HAVE YOU BEEN SAVED? with a picture of Jesus on the cover.

  Dad sat on the bed and did that thing he does where he clicks his whole jaw out of its place and it goes CLICK CRACK. Mom hates it when he does it. She hates other stuff too, and so does he. That’s why they have to yell at each other, and why Clemesta and I have to go hide in our HURRICANE STORM SHELTER, which is a secret safe place in the house just for us. We pretend a storm is happening outside but we are safe inside with hot cocoa to drink and marshmallows to eat and all our favorite books to read and all our coloring books and also there’s a kitten inside who’s lost but we help her stay safe until the storm is over. Then we find her mom and dad and everything is perfect again and that’s the end of the game.

  Once or maybe three times, we fell asleep in the hurricane storm shelter because the fights went on the whole night.

  Dad looked around the room and sighed. I stood with Clemesta, waiting for him to say what we should do, but he just picked up his phone and flicked through the news.

  “Did anything happen yet?” I said.

  He shook his head and set his phone down. His screen had a photo of the three of us on it. We all look very smiling and happy, even Dad. I don’t remember when we took it. Maybe last year or the one before that.

  Outside, I could hear dogs barking. Or maybe it was Darlene’s porcelain ones from downstairs coming to life at night. In the yard
outside the trees were mostly bare, except for one that had its spring blossoms peeking out.

  Dad sat on the edge of the bed and chewed his nails.

  “I’m hungry,” I said. “We didn’t eat any dinner. Or lunch.”

  Dad picked through the Walmart bags and pulled out a bag of jerky and some Doritos.

  I made a face. “That’s more junk.”

  “It’s all we have,” Dad said. He spat all his chewed-off nails onto the floor and I hoped the cat wouldn’t choke on them.

  I sighed. Maybe Dad didn’t even know that kids are meant to eat vegetables and not just candy the whole entire time. No wonder he never makes dinner or we would all be very obese and Mom would be REPULSED. Already she thinks that everyone in our neighborhood is gross because they don’t take care of themselves and all they do is sit on the sofa watching TV and eating candy.

  Dad ate a mouthful of jerky and then he stood up.

  “We should wash up,” he said, “and get to bed.”

  In Darlene’s bathroom across the hall, he helped me figure out the faucet and make sure the water was not too hot or too cold but just right, like Goldilocks from the book Mom used to read to me before bed. We have stories every night except when I say GO AWAY and LEAVE ME FOREVER ALONE. That was last week and I lay in bed feeling mad until I fell asleep.

  In the shower, I used lots of pumps of Darlene’s soap, which smelled of lemons. Then I wrapped myself up in her soft and peachy towel and I brushed my teeth with the new toothbrush until they were sparkling clean and minty fresh and very untasty for Gerry Germ. Then I went back into the room.