The Keeper of Lost Things Read online

“The name is the most important detail,” I said. “If we know the name, we can track them down and find my father. Maybe. I guess.”

  “Wouldn’t the police have already tried doing that?”

  I shrugged. “It doesn’t look like they’ve been here, does it? Everything is too… normal. Police would tear the place apart.”

  Frankie’s finger skimmed along the paper until they stopped on the name part of the contract. “This contract is with Withheld.”

  “Damn it.”

  “Why wouldn’t they want to put their name on a computer service contract? It’s not like they were dealing with the FBI or anything,” Frankie said, reflecting my own frustration. What was with all the secrecy?

  What would my father have to be doing for him that would require his name to be kept a secret? Virus removal and printer installations weren’t exactly top secret business.

  “Whatever it was, they were paranoid about it,” I stated. The only reason I knew why people withheld their names was because they were up to no good.

  Mr. Withheld had to be a criminal.

  And criminals could easily kidnap someone.

  Murder someone.

  Blue flashing lights suddenly lit up the front of the store. The cops had pulled up outside and were getting out of the car. “We need to get out of here.”

  Frankie was on the same wavelength. “Got it.”

  We headed for the door but it felt wrong leaving with no more information than we started with. My eyes scanned the room, desperate for anything that might make the adventure not a bust.

  On the counter was a black hard drive.

  It ended up in my pocket.

  We hurried outside and closed the door behind us. Then it was every teenager for themselves as we run along the back of the shops to the corner. Then it was a casual stroll as if we had done absolutely nothing wrong.

  “At least I have this,” I said as I showed Frankie the hard drive.

  “You stole that?”

  “It wasn’t like good old Dad was around to ask his permission. I wonder what’s on it.” Something, I hoped.

  “We can go back to my place and plug it in,” Frankie suggested. I couldn’t disagree. With Uncle Marvin banning any male person from our house, it was his place or nothing.

  “Sure.”

  My cell phone pinged with a message. I expected an order from my effervescent uncle but instead it was from Samantha. “My father’s wife wants me to go to dinner with her sometime.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  I didn’t know. She was probably just using me, seeing if I knew anything about Marshall’s disappearance. She could think I had been in touch with him over the years and we were both lying about it.

  Like father, like daughter, right?

  Something inside me hoped I was wrong and that Samantha just wanted to get to know me, being my stepmother and all. I couldn’t believe that for too long, it just didn’t feel natural. People left me, they didn’t tend to stick around unless Child Services made them.

  “I’ll reply to her later,” I decided out loud. Why make a decision now when I could do it later? Procrastination at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.

  We had to take a few buses to get back to Frankie’s home. He used his key to let us into the house and it was immediately apparent that we weren’t alone.

  Two little kids stared up at us, their eyes wide open and unblinking. Both female with their hair in pigtails. One had a smear of chocolate on her shirt.

  “This is Elody and Mary.” Frankie pointed to the girl with chocolate first and then the other one. They were so alike they were both carbon copies of each other, even though one stood a little taller than the other. “Say hello to Em, girls.”

  “Hello, Em,” they said in unison.

  “Hi.” Awkward. What were you supposed to say to little kids? I wasn’t good with tiny humans.

  “Is this your girlfriend?” Elody singsonged. She made Mary giggle.

  “Em is my friend. Now go play with your dolls or something.” Frankie spoke with an amused sparkle in his eye. His affection for his sisters was apparent, written in every crinkle around his eyes as he smiled.

  So this was what a normal family felt like.

  Huh.

  “We’d better go before they start planning our wedding,” Frankie whispered as he grabbed my hand to pull me along. I followed him into his bedroom.

  Frankie’s room was not what I was expecting.

  The walls were covered with photos. Not just a few family pics here and there, but completely covered. Like a serial killer would have to remember his kills.

  When I looked closer, the photos were completely random. A flower here, a stream, a rabbit, his sisters, what I assumed were his parents, mountains, highways, candles, a book, there was nothing he didn’t have a photograph of.

  I couldn’t help but stare at them all, I wanted to see every single photo but it felt like it would take years to see all of them. They were their own little masterpieces, a window into a time and place that Frankie had thought important or beautiful.

  It explained a lot, actually.

  Frankie was nuts.

  Artfully nuts.

  “Did you take all these?” I asked, pointing to the walls at large.

  “Yeah. I want to be a photographer one day. What do you think?”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  He sat down at a small desk and turned on his laptop. My eyes fell on one photo just above his pile of shoes by the door.

  I was in the photograph.

  It was the day I visited the tip shop and he had helped me install the new shelves. I was walking along the street with the wheelbarrow, my hair falling out of my ponytail and struggling with the wooden load.

  I’d accused him of stalking me.

  I guess I was right.

  Seeing the photo made something twinge inside me. Why did he take it and why did he keep it? Photos were little glimpses into the past, a snapshot of a memory that would last until it was destroyed.

  “Em?” Frankie’s voice cut through my thoughts.

  “Hmm?”

  “I’ve got the hard drive open.” He pointed to the screen and it took a moment for me to remember what we were supposed to be doing.

  I joined him at the desk to go through the files. There was a lot on the drive, plenty of files and folders to keep my mind focused and occupied.

  Frankie and I spent the next two hours scouring through all the folders. It was boring, mind-numbing work but it had to be done. With two sets of eyes looking we were able to quickly discard anything that seemed ordinary and useless.

  Mr. Withheld made another appearance. “This is for the big contract Dad was working on,” I said. Frankie scrolled through it a bit slower.

  They were requisition forms, orders with his suppliers for the parts he needed for the job. I was not good at computer-speak so it all looked Dutch to me.

  “You use all these to build a network server,” Frankie said. When I stared at him in disbelief, he shrugged and continued. “I like computers, okay? It doesn’t make me a nerd.”

  “Yeah, I think it does,” I teased.

  His cheeks reddened just a tiny little bit. “Your dad was doing regular computer work for Mr. Withheld. It seems pretty standard to me.”

  “There’s an address on the delivery details. Maybe we should look for ourselves?” I jotted down the address on a notepad sitting on the desk and tucked it into my pocket. “I can go after school sometime.”

  “We can go.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to see this kickass server,” Frankie said, but I suspected it was more than that. He was curious, wondering where this pathway would lead. If it led to my father, then it would all be worth it.

  The door to Frankie’s room opened and we both jumped, even though we were doing nothing worthy of any guilt. A middle aged woman with Frankie’s bright blue eyes poked her head inside. “Dinner is ready, F
rancis. Your friend is welcome to stay.”

  Frankie looked at me.

  I looked at Frankie.

  “I should be getting home,” I said, already standing. A family dinner was not something I wanted to crash. “My uncle will be wondering where I’ve gotten to.”

  Mrs. Bolero smiled kindly, she looked like the kind of mom they used in advertisements for baked goods. The kind of mother I used to tell people I had.

  I grabbed the hard drive. “Thanks for your help. I’ll see you at school.”

  In less than ten seconds I was out of their house and on my way to the nearest bus stop. I didn’t realize it was so late. Uncle Marvin was going to be sitting at the table, wondering where his dinner was. He wouldn’t have noticed my absence until then.

  The bus rumbled in, spitting exhaust from one end and rattling something at the other. I jumped on board and took my seat, willing it to hurry up.

  I looked around at all the empty seats and on the floor. Buses were prime location for lost things. It was amazing how many people got off the bus without something they had got on with. It only took a minute for me to find a lost item.

  An umbrella.

  It was still wet but someone had loved it enough to fold it so it fit into its plastic slip. I would have to make sure it was completely dry before I placed it on my shelves.

  My mind wandered back to Frankie and his family. I now knew he had four sisters, all younger than him. I would bet all my money on the fact he was a great big brother. He was probably the kind that sisters would go to for advice or help with their homework.

  I could imagine them all sitting around their dining table, eating home-cooked, wholesome food. They probably kept mac and cheese for comfort food, but never ate it as a meal. Mrs. Bolero would probably gasp at the thought.

  Thinking about it made me melancholy but I couldn’t dispose of the thoughts. I pulled my cell phone out of my bag and looked at the text message Samantha had sent me.

  What would her family dinners look like?

  There was only one way to really find out. Short of looking through her window and spying, I would have to attend one of them.

  I quickly typed a message and sent it before I could think reasonably and change my mind. Once she read the acceptance of her invitation she would expect me to actually go through with it and share dinner with her.

  Maybe I just made a huge mistake.

  Maybe I didn’t.

  The bus rumbled to a halt at my stop and I got off, still preoccupied with thoughts of dinners with families. Two offers on one day, that had to be some kind of miracle.

  I held the umbrella in my hand the whole way to my house. The moment I was through the front door, I heard Uncle Marvin banging his silverware on the table. “Where’s my dinner, girl?”

  “Coming, Uncle Marvin,” I called out. I left my backpack and the umbrella on the floor and hurried into the kitchen. It was going to be a beans and toast kind of night.

  Chapter 11

  The umbrella was dry after I left it open for a few hours. Dry enough to be added to the shelves in the attic. It was my first lost thing in the new addition.

  As I stared at the pink package, completely alone on the shelf, I wished people would stop losing things. I didn’t want to have to be the keeper of all the lost things. I wanted people to cherish what they had so they never lost anything.

  It wasn’t the umbrella’s fault it had been left behind. It had done its job by keeping its owner dry so they could get on the bus. And then they had just left it.

  All alone.

  Without a thought.

  Nobody deserved that, especially the umbrella who had done nothing wrong. It wasn’t right but it was continually repeated day after day. Lost things could have ended up anywhere if I didn’t rescue them.

  I went to bed wondering if things would ever change.

  The next morning Frankie wasn’t waiting for me, which was a relief. I refused to be disappointed by not seeing him. I shouldn’t have expected the kid to be there. Just because he did it once did not mean I should have expected him there.

  Mrs. Justice was out in her garden, as predictable as ever. Now she was someone that I expected to see. I gave her a wave which she returned with a happy smile. I wondered if Mrs. Justice had ever been lost.

  Probably not.

  She seemed very nice.

  I walked all the way to school, using the time to scan the area for lost items. Sometimes they popped up in the most peculiar of places. Whether they found their way there through the wind or by human intervention, I never knew.

  The school grounds came too quickly. I would much rather have walked for longer and given more time to search for items I needed to rescue.

  “Hey, Em!” The voice that called out was instantly recognizable as Frankie Bolero. I refused to acknowledge the fact that my heart sped up a beat upon hearing him. He fell into step beside me. “I’m glad I saw you.”

  “It’s school, I am legally obliged to attend every day,” I replied, grumpier than I intended. Perhaps I hadn’t forgotten the fact he wasn’t at my door that morning and the pang of disappointment that I pushed aside.

  “Do you want to go and check out the address we found yesterday?” Frankie asked as he hitched his backpack strap up further on his shoulder. It sat heavily, probably full of books and homework.

  “I can’t.”

  “Oh, you sure? It might help us find your dad.”

  “Of course I’m sure. I’m busy this afternoon and don’t have time to chase wild geese.”

  Frankie’s step faltered for just a moment. “Okay. It was just a thought. I guess I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah. Around,” I replied, staring at the path in front of me so I didn’t have to see the disappointed look on his face. It was better this way, better that he didn’t get too close. This morning had taught me that.

  Frankie went one way on the path and I went the other. I shouldn’t have told him about my missing father, I shouldn’t have dragged him into this mess. He was far better off to stay away from me.

  Better now than later.

  Much better now than later.

  I went to my locker before heading off to class. The only lost item I found was a hairclip, probably fallen from someone’s bag as they rushed through the corridors. I slipped it into my pocket for later.

  First period was Chemistry. I sat in the middle so I had a better chance of going unseen. Mr. Barbage was a fan of cruel and unusual punishment for his students. If I got in trouble one more time Uncle Marvin was not going to be happy.

  Frankie walked in late and was forced to sit in the front row. He was in prime firing range. His hair was the same color as chocolate and shined in the sunbeam wriggling its way through the window. He always wore an expression like he was telling himself jokes inside his head.

  I wanted to be in on the jokes.

  But it was a fleeting thought, quickly replaced by far more sensible ones. It would have been nice to be one of the other girls in the class, ones normal and able to have friends and boyfriends. I would never be one of those, not when I was a lost cause.

  Frankie would be happier making friends with people that weren’t me. He could bring them home to his family and they would know what to do. They would fit in and it wouldn’t be awkward.

  That’s what he deserved.

  Not me.

  It was better to cut him off now rather than let the friendship grow into something more. The hurt would be far less letting him go now.

  My gaze returned to the book in front of me and I tried to listen to Mr. Barbage through the entire morning. It was a double period, making my eyes go blurry with all the reading.

  The lunchtime bell was truly a beautiful thing. I quickly packed up my things and slipped out the back door, avoiding any contact with Frankie along the way.

  It was raining outside, a persistent dribble setting in coating everything with a layer of cold water. I was forced into the cafeteria,
waiting in line for my meal like all the other high school robots.

  We shuffled down the line, moving inch by inch closer to the end. I piled my tray full and looked for an empty table. There were none. I couldn’t escape outside so it was either the floor, the bathroom, or one of the tables with people already seated at them.

  I walked down an aisle, trying to find a table with people that weren’t completely horrible. It was tough going. A table holding only one person crept up on my right. I kept going, the person was Frankie.

  “Hey, Em, I have a table. Come sit with me,” he called out.

  I pretended I didn’t hear him and kept walking. I didn’t want to see the look on his face.

  My options were limited after that. It was pathetic to know I had been at school with this class every day for eleven years and could call none of them my friends.

  Not even acquaintances.

  Finally I decided on a table captured by the nerds. They all shuffled away from me when I sat at the end of their table. Their conversation silenced, carried on by only facial expressions once I was seated.

  I ate quickly and went to hang out in the corridors until my next class. The day was only getting worse for me. I managed to avoid Frankie for the rest of the lunch break and headed for English class.

  In the last period of the day, my anxiety was growing by the minute. Frankie was in the same class and kept stealing glances my way. As soon as the bell rang, he was going to talk to me again. I was certain of it.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  My hand shot up in the air. “Yes, Miss Gabrielle?”

  “I need to go to the restroom,” I said, staring directly at Mrs. Thompson so she wouldn’t know I was lying.

  She sighed. “Fine. Be quick about it.”

  I packed up my things and shoved them into my backpack. I took the whole thing with me and bustled out the door. My feet headed into the direction of the restrooms until I was out of sight.

  Then I got the hell out of there.

  The only way to avoid Frankie was to disappear. He wouldn’t break the rules and follow me, he was too well mannered for such delinquent behavior.

  Uncle Marvin would never know about it unless I got caught. Hence the running part of my plan. I didn’t stop at the bus shelter, instead I kept going until I reached the next stop–a good few blocks away.