The Keeper of Lost Things Read online

  That would get their attention.

  I then went down her friends list and sent snarky little comments to everyone I recognized from school. They weren’t that bad, just little remarks about how Gina was so much better than everyone around her.

  Then I turned the phone off and replaced it on the shelf.

  Gina shouldn’t have made me so mad.

  I took revenge.

  The doorbell rang downstairs, snatching my attention from the shelves. I tiptoed down the stairs until I could see and hear what was happening at the door.

  Uncle Marvin was talking to the police. They were the same officers that had spoken to me at school. Tall Cop and Short Cop, here to save the day. I bet they never saw Uncle ‘the brick wall’ Marvin coming.

  I sat just out of sight and listened in. Uncle Marvin was midway through one of his rants. “I don’t know what happened to him and I don’t care either. He probably ran off again like the idiot he is. That man can’t stick around, it’s not in his nature.”

  “So you don’t know of his whereabouts?” Tall Cop, ever so optimistic. If they’d come to my uncle they really must be desperate for leads.

  “I just told you I didn’t. Do you have cotton wool in your ears or are you just deaf?”

  “No need to get worked up, Mr. Gabrielle, we’re just doing our job. When was the last time you saw your brother?”

  “Years ago when he left me with that lump of a daughter.”

  Don’t feel bad for me.

  His comments just rolled straight off my back by now.

  Tall Cop was persistent. “And you have no idea where he could have gone?”

  “I hope he went to hell. Now bugger off.”

  Uncle Marvin stepped back from the door, one hand on the handle. He gave them a few seconds to shuffle backwards before he closed it in their faces.

  He stomped off back to the kitchen, mumbling to himself. The cat ran in the opposite direction to reach me. She rubbed her sweet little face against my legs before I pulled her onto my lap.

  “Where do you think he went, huh Matilda?” She purred in a language I didn’t speak.

  Still, I petted her and cradled her warm little body against mine. She didn’t reveal all the secrets of the universe but I didn’t expect her to either. Matilda was just here for the cuddles.

  Now I knew why.

  They were nice.

  “Em! Dinner!” Uncle Marvin bellowed, making the windows shake. I hurried down and placed Matilda on the floor next to her dish. We may as well all dine together.

  We ate macaroni and cheese.

  It was nice.

  Uncle Marvin dropped a spoonful on his shirt, swearing while he scooped it back up again. “Stupid noodles, won’t stay on the spoon.”

  “You could use a fork,” I pointed out, holding up mine speared with pieces of macaroni.

  “Don’t get smart with me, girl.”

  Wouldn’t dream of it, of course.

  “I saw the police leaving today. Did you speak with them about Dad?”

  “Stupid idiot cops. They must let anyone into the force these days. Even shaved monkeys. Idiots.”

  “Do you think he ran away again?”

  “Probably,” my uncle replied, shoving a new spoonful into his mouth. He spoke with his mouth full of food. “It’s not like he hasn’t done it before. I said as much to the police. If they start bothering you, don’t say a word. They’ll only twist everything you tell them.”

  “Okay,” I said, not daring to mention they’d already spoken with me. It was easier when he didn’t know things. “What was he like? My father, that is.”

  Uncle Marvin stared at me like I wasn’t speaking English. Then he replied. “He was always trouble, from the moment he was born. I had to share a room with him growing up, he was always taking my things and ruining them. I begged our mother to take him back to the hospital and get a new one. She never did.”

  I tried to imagine what a little Marvin would look like. All I kept coming up with was a chubby baby with a beer belly and beard stubble. It wasn’t a pretty image.

  “What was he like with my mom? Were they in love?”

  “I guess. They had you, didn’t they? Had to like each other enough to produce you.”

  “He worked with computers, right?” I continued to prod. I was doing better extracting information than the police had but it was still like torture.

  “Yeah. He was always pulling them apart and sticking them back together again. I told him he should just leave them alone, then he wouldn’t have to put them together again. Idiot.”

  I wasn’t going to get much more from Uncle Marvin. He was already shoving artificially colored macaroni into his mouth and chewing noisily. One more question could have tipped him over the edge and made him grumpy.

  We ate in silence for the rest of the meal.

  The next day I vowed not to get one more tardy note for being late to class. I was out the door before Uncle Marvin stirred, eager to stick to my word.

  When I opened the front door and rushed down the steps to the street, I almost ran into Frankie. He was leaning against Mrs. Justice’s fence, his clothes wrinkled but matching his blue eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded. “I told you my Uncle Marvin doesn’t want me to see you anymore.”

  “That’s why I’m standing here and not knocking on your front door.” Frankie grinned, like that would explain everything and get him out of trouble.

  Maybe my uncle was right and boys were just trouble.

  This one certainly was.

  I sighed and started walking toward school, Frankie fell into step beside me. “If you’re going to insist on doing stupid things like this, you’re going to have to get better at hiding,” I said.

  “Noted.”

  My backpack swung around and hung on one shoulder while I rifled through it. My hands grasped around Frankie’s lost cell phone before I tugged it free.

  I held the phone out for him.

  He took it. “Thank you.”

  Frankie made me break my rule of never returning things.

  “Don’t lose anything else, okay? You might not get it back next time.”

  He shoved the phone into his pocket. “I won’t, I promise.”

  Frankie could have made a big deal out of getting his phone back. He could have made a big deal out of me taking it in the first place and then lying about having it.

  He didn’t.

  Which made me smile.

  As we walked, Frankie told me all about his sister’s birthday party that was held the previous night. She was turning eight and their mother cooked a big meal for their dinner. They all ate two pieces of birthday cake for dessert.

  Frankie talked a lot.

  I liked the way I didn’t have to say much to contribute to the conversation.

  We reached the school yard before I knew it. My eyes still scanned the area for lost things. Walking with Frankie or not, I still had to be vigilant in my search. Someone had to rescue the lost things, I couldn’t let them be lost forever.

  The grounds were clear as we entered the building. We passed by the blonde girls who had hassled me at lunch. They were standing with their friends, talking loudly.

  “I swear I didn’t send those messages,” Gina said. Her voice was pleading, regretful?

  “You’re not my real friend,” the other blonde girl replied. Her voice was angry. “I knew you were always jealous of me and that message just proves it. I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.”

  “I lost my phone, remember? They must have hacked into it and sent the messages. And the picture!”

  “Yeah, right. How can you lie to me?”

  “I’m not!”

  It was absolutely impossible to remove the smile from my face. I had to cover it with my hand, just so I didn’t look like a complete fool in front of everyone.

  I reached my locker and opened it. Frankie did the same, just three down from mine. “What are you g
rinning about?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Something’s going on in your head. What is it?”

  I shook my head.

  Nobody was going to find out my secret.

  The bell rang and I ran down the corridor to make sure I was on time. Another visit to Principal Moore might result in a call to Uncle Marvin and that would not end well.

  For all of us.

  Uncle Marvin would have to leave work early.

  He would call Principal Moore an idiot.

  Principal Moore would suspend or expel me.

  I would have to find a new school.

  Being on time to class would prevent the complete meltdown of my world. So that was what I was going to do.

  I slid into my chair before most people walked in. I repeated that same behavior for every single one of my classes throughout the day. I didn’t get one tardy note.

  It was a miracle.

  Someone call the pope.

  The final bell rang for the day, releasing us from our educational requirements and took us closer to the end of the semester. Only a few more weeks and it would be summer break.

  More people lost things in summer than in any other season.

  This was a fact I discovered for myself. My new shelves would be packed full within a few months. I would have to scour places like the lake and the public pools for lost things. It was a busy season for me.

  Just as I stepped out of the building, a boy stood in front of me. He was at least two feet taller than me, his chest a formidable wall of muscle.

  I went to step around him but he got in my way again. The kid had a problem. “Excuse me, I need to get by.”

  “You need to be taught a lesson,” he said, barking out the words like a guard dog. I looked up, my eyes travelling over his chest to his thick neck and then finally reaching his scowling face.

  “I don’t know who you are,” I replied, even as my heartbeat started racing I managed to keep my voice level. Surely this idiot had me mistaken for someone else.

  “You stole my girlfriend’s phone.”

  “I never stole anything.”

  “Yes, you did. She wants it back, give it to me.” He held out his giant hand, as if I could magically conjure it out of thin air. I may have been a liar, but I wasn’t a wizard.

  “I don’t have it,” I lied.

  He cracked his knuckles, the popping sound made me grind my teeth together. “I’m going to have to teach you how to be helpful. Unless you want to do this the easy way and hand it over.”

  “I. Don’t. Have. It.” I spoke slowly, just in case he was having difficulty with the English language.

  The giant buffoon suddenly grabbed my backpack and started shaking it off my back. I jerked back and forth, unable to move away from his clutches.

  Something flashed past and the bully was pushed against the wall beside us. I almost toppled over as he released my backpack from his giant hands. It took a moment to work out what had happened.

  Frankie had the boy pinned up against the wall, holding him there with an arm pressed against his neck. The buffoon was struggling to get free.

  “Frankie!” I yelled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He ignored me, getting closer to the boy and talking directly to him. “You never lay a hand on her again, understand? You need to stay away from her entirely.”

  “Sure, man. Whatever.”

  Frankie held him there for a few moments more before he let him go. The boy glared at me before scurrying down the corridor inside.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” I said.

  Frankie smoothed down his clothes after the tussle. “He shouldn’t have been touching you. It’s not right. You’re a little girl and he’s… he’s…”

  “An idiot,” I finished for him.

  “He’s more than that.”

  I waggled my index finger at him, barely reigning in my rage. “That wasn’t your fight. I had everything under control, you shouldn’t have interfered.”

  “He was hurting you,” Frankie argued.

  “I don’t need you protecting me!” I stomped down the pathway, now more keen to get home than before. Frankie had no right fighting my battles for me. I couldn’t rely on anyone else besides myself.

  He caught up with me, silently walking at my side.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Walking. Is there a rule about that too?”

  “You’re walking beside me.”

  “Maybe you’re walking beside me,” he countered with a smirk. I tried to stay angry at him, I really did. But there was something about the way Frankie did things that made me want to forget about fighting with him.

  He made me feel warm and fuzzy.

  Which was really inconvenient.

  “I’m going to my father’s workplace,” I said, changing the subject.

  “What a coincidence, so am I.”

  Chapter 10

  Marshall Gabrielle worked in a small shop in downtown Lakeside. It hadn’t been opened since he disappeared four days ago. Samantha didn’t know anything about computers and he had no other staff members–according to the news.

  The shop was in a row of a dozen, just another bay in darkness. It wasn’t the only closed shop, a few others had also taken down their sign and walked away from the lease.

  Sandwiched between a law office and a florist, Marshall’s Computer Mart was filled with second hand computers and signs that declared his prices to be the lowest.

  The door was locked, not budging one inch. I led Frankie around to the back, counting down the number of shops until I found the back of my fathers.

  “This one’s locked too,” Frankie said, his hand jiggling the knob to reiterate his conclusion. I hadn’t expected to find the place unlocked, only an idiot would do that.

  “Move out of the way.” I waited until Frankie moved and then stared into the barrel of the lock. It seemed to be standard issue, I could deal with that.

  I pulled a lock pick out of my backpack, something I’d stumbled over a few years back. Mr. Adison had found it at the dump and showed me how to use it. I got it for fifty cents.

  Looking around, there was nobody else behind the bank of shops. No witnesses were good, just in case someone decided to be helpful and call the police.

  Locks were easy to pick if you knew how and Mr. Adison was a very good teacher. He taught me on all the doors he had rescued, explaining about the different types of locks and how their barrels worked.

  The lock on this door was easy. It clicked over within minutes. All I had to do was turn the knob and we were inside. I held open the door for Frankie. “Are you coming in or standing out here all afternoon?”

  “You’re a very scary person,” he said as he followed me. “Can you hotwire a car too?”

  “Don’t be silly.” I could only do that on cars more than twenty years old. Mr. Adison didn’t get anything newer at the dump to teach me.

  At the rear of the computer shop was my father’s work space. Bits and pieces of computers littered every available space. It looked like a giant computer had exploded and its guts landed everywhere. There didn’t seem to be any kind of order in the room.

  “What are we looking for?” Frankie asked, picking up a piece of singed motherboard and smelling it. He quickly put it back down again.

  “A reason for my father to go missing.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  I shrugged, not really knowing myself what we were looking for. A note signed Marshall Gabrielle with details of his location and intentions would have been perfect.

  Somehow, I doubted it would be here.

  “His wife said he was working on a big contract, if we could find that piece of paper it might tell us who he was working for. I guess that might help. Samantha said he was spending a lot of time on it,” I replied.

  I rifled through a series of boxes stacked against the wall. Copies of invoices and receipts told me they were
his accounting records. Marshall Gabrielle wasn’t the most organized person in the world.

  He was the kind to lose things.

  A lot of things.

  The boxes made me sneeze as they tickled my nose. I continued on bravely anyway, hoping to find something that would make the three bus trips and a five block walk worthwhile.

  Something crashed in the room. I whipped around to see Frankie sheepishly holding onto a piece of computer while the rest was on the ground. “Whoops.”

  “I don’t think my father would even notice,” I said. There was already a huge mess, making it a bit more messy wasn’t exactly going to change anything.

  The last box I checked contained piles of paper. The white stacks formed two piles. I grabbed the top of one and flipped through the pages. They were service contracts.

  Perfect.

  “I found his contracts.”

  Frankie hurried across and looked over my shoulder. “How do we tell which one is the big one?”

  Good question. I flicked through a few of them and the words all seemed to be the same. The only items that changed were the customer names, dates, service period, and the monthly fee amount.

  “They have a value written in here.” I pointed to the line I was looking at. “This one is only fifty dollars. We need to find one worth some serious cash.”

  We split the stack and flicked through all the contracts, pulling out any that were bigger than the last one. The amounts slowly kept rising until one contract was worth eight thousand dollars a month. I couldn’t find any other contracts that came close to that value.

  “I have an eight grand contract. Can you beat that?” I asked.

  Frankie’s eyes bugged out. “Nope. The most I have is two thousand.”

  The contract sat innoxiously on the counter, keeping all its secrets between the pages until we opened them up and unlocked everything it could tell us.

  I almost didn’t want to look.

  But that would be pointless.

  The first page held all the details, neatly written in with handwriting identical to all the other contracts. I couldn’t believe something with so few pages could produce eight thousand dollars a month for my father.