Lost and Found (3 page)

The waves pull away from the shore leaving frothy bubbles along the wet sand and return
abruptly, depositing fresh seaweed and broken seashells onto the beach before the
ebb of the ocean pulls the waves back again. Even though the sun is partially obscured
by the clouds, there is no mistaking the summer feel of the day. It smells of salt
and coconut lotion…and goldfish crackers.

"Mommy, look! Look what I found!" Dean skids to a stop at my feet, dripping cold water
onto my toes and holds his cupped hands up to my face.

"Eww, what is it?" I ask, while catching a glimpse of something slimy in his little
hand.

"Gel-fish! Mommy, it's a gel-fish!" He grins at me as I push myself up to my knees
to get a better look at what he has.

"Do you mean jelly-fish?" I ask with a smile, sure that it must be something else
in his hand but when I peel back his short fingers I see that he is indeed holding
a sandy piece of jelly-fish.

"Oh, Dean! Where'd you find this? It stays in the water; jellyfish can sting you.
Go put it back, baby."

I turn him around and pat his bottom as he scurries toward the shore to deposit the
chunk of jelly into the next wave. I don't have the heart to tell him it's no longer
alive. I wave at Shannon as she jumps through the waves a few yards to our right,
diving under the big ones and floating on her back when the water calms. As I look
up and down the beach, I smile at the families playing in the surf.

Eventually Dean comes bounding back up the sand and plops down on the towel next to
me. Another mischievous smile lights up his face.

I sigh before asking with a crooked grin, "So, what do you have now, my little biologist?"

He tilts his head to the side, as if challenging me to wrestle his three-year-old
hand open. I try not to cave in too quickly but my curiosity has my full attention,
so I tickle his side until his fingers splay open on his lap revealing a large chunk
of bloody flesh. I recoil from his hand in horror. I would know those blue eyes anywhere
and I start screaming.... Because he's holding his sister's face in his hands.

***

The strangled sound of my voice pierced through the night air, loud enough to wake
the whole house. Kris came stumbling into the bedroom in her over-sized sleep shirt
just as Connor shook me awake, ripping me out of my nightmare. At first, I struggled
against him as my body shook but he refused to let go, even after my hot tears soaked
into his shirt. Feeling the sudden urge to throw up, I scrambled away from him and
barely made it to the toilet in time to release my dinner.

"Is she okay?" I heard Kris's shaky voice in the next room while I rinsed my still
raw face off with cold water from the tap.

"Just a bad dream, she'll be okay. Go back to bed kiddo, it's alright."

Connor's answer was enough to send Kris stumbling groggily back to her room. His sleepy
voice was fully loaded with hints of his Irish heritage. I loved to hear his accent;
it was rare on account of all the time he spent in the States over the last twenty
years.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled when I finally left the solitary confinement of the bathroom.

"Babe, don't apologize for having a bad dream. I've had a lot of them myself, lately."

He pulled the covers back and scooted to the side, leaving enough room for me to climb
under the sheets and cuddle up against him. I tried to relax and concentrate on the
curves of Connor's body as his chest rested against my back, his legs tucked up close
behind my thighs.

Zoey huffed softly from down the hall, no doubt from Kris's room where she was not
only allowed, but also encouraged to sleep on the bed every night. I shifted slightly,
feeling comfort in the heaviness of Connor's arm draped securely around me. We sighed
against each other silently and then something on the other side of the room caught
my eye. My heart skipped a beat just before I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. A dark
shadow was standing in the corner.
It's not real, it's not real,
I said to myself over and over. But I knew better. The same figure had visited me
every night for a week. It wanted something, but I wasn't brave enough yet to find
out what that was.

"You're up early," Kris said softly.

I turned around in time to see her pass through the doorway with the dog. After greeting
Zoey with a vigorous ear-rub, she hit the porch deck running, her nails clicking on
the weathered wood all the way down the stairs. Little flurries of dirt clouded around
her legs as she disappeared in a rush behind the building to her favorite potty spot.

"I couldn't sleep much last night." I turned around and leaned my back against the
deck railing.

"I know me neither." Kris looked tired and irritable.

"Sorry if I woke you."

"No, no, you didn't. I was already awake actually." She sat down on one of the colorful
Adirondack chairs with a loud sigh.

"We're all having bad dreams, aren't we?" I grabbed at my loose hair and pulled it
back into a messy knot so the slight breeze would stop blowing it into my face.

"Yeah. Sucks." Kris hugged her knees to her chest and stared out into the woods in
front of our cabin.

"Hey," I approached her and put my hand on top of her head, rustling her dark hair
until she playfully swatted my hand away, "…how about some pancakes? We still have
chocolate chips, remember?"

"Deal!" She jumped up from her chair and I smiled as she rushed around me, back into
the cabin.

Movement in the woods caught my attention and I turned in a half-circle, straining
to see between the overgrown shrubs and trees that started on the other side of the
small trail that linked the cabins together. My eyes settled on the trunk of a massive
pine as I struggled to focus on the dark cloud behind it. My breathing stopped in
my throat as the shape of a man began to form. I bristled as he stared out from the
woods, looking at the cabins….looking at
me
. Everything stilled; the breeze stopped, the birds quieted, and all that could be
heard was the thudding of my own heart.

But it couldn't be…
could it
? The tall and dark figure slowly lifted a hand and waved once at me as I took a step
forward, peering harder into the darkness of the quiet forest until I was certain
without a doubt that I was seeing
him
. Fin.

***

As soon as I recognized him, he was gone. The man behind the tree became a normal
shadow again. As I spun around to flee into the cabin, I crashed face-first into Connor's
bare chest.

"Hey! Where are you off to in such a hurry?" He dragged a hand through his sleep-messed
hair but his goofy grin fell when he looked down at my face.

"Oh God…I saw…I saw…" I couldn't say Fin's name out loud. I had helped put his body
into the ground just a few months before. It didn't make sense - seeing him hiding
in the trees.

After glancing over my shoulder, the woods appeared just as they always did. Connor
must have sensed my anxiety because he looked up and down the trail with concern.
Eventually satisfied that we were in fact alone, he put his arm around my shoulders
before guiding me back to the door. I noticed him staring off into the woods before
we left the porch with his brow furrowed, but he said nothing. Neither of us did.
Neither of us had to.

Though no one had mentioned it, we all knew we weren't alone at the lodge. It wasn't
talked about but it was there - the strange sounds in the night...the shadows that
lurked...the whispers and the screams. We all woke up from our nightmares only to
find that monsters were hiding in the shadows, waiting for something…waiting for us.
It made it nearly impossible for anyone to get a good night of sleep. It was starting
to show on our faces, just as it showed on Connor's as he turned me away from the
woods to follow me back into the cabin.

Kris had already covered the counter space with the ingredients for breakfast, including
freshly cut orange slices sitting in a large bowl. The kitchen was quickly filling
with the aroma of citrus, cinnamon and vanilla. We had recently raided a few backyards
and small orchards for fresh food. Most of the citrus trees in the greenhouse were
burned earlier in the year. We didn't speak of that day often; it was the day that
Fin died. And Matt too, though no one actually missed him and his delinquent friends.

I tried to push thoughts of Fin out of my mind while I poured the batter Kris had
mixed onto the grill. When it bubbled around the edges, I flipped the pancake and
blinked at the heat that radiated off the stovetop. Lost in a daydream of the past,
I ignored the playful banter between Connor and Kris from the nearby living room and
didn't notice the sound of the golf-cart until it pulled to a stop in front of the
cabin.

Kris's loud squeal of delight brought me crashing back to reality and I flipped a
pancake off the grill moments before it began to burn. So, the happy couple had finally
returned from their baby-shopping spree from the day before. While Connor and Kris
met Jacks and Ana outside, I cut up a few more oranges and doubled the pancake mixture.
Figured I might as well make breakfast a family affair.

***

Jacks sauntered into the cabin looking a bit tired but otherwise happy. He was going
to be a dad after-all, but spending hours combing through the dead city streets of
San Diego to hit up the right baby shops with his pregnant girlfriend in tow was not
his ideal way to spend a beautiful cloud-free day in July. What Ana wanted though,
she seemed to get. And get a lot they did.

After breakfast, Jacks convinced everyone to take turns unloading bags and boxes of
baby clothes and nursery essentials from the bed of his truck while Ana shouted out
commands. I was the only one exempt from this duty since Jacks frowned at my still
fresh road-rash injuries and officially dubbed me a spectator. It had been a week
already and I was more than able to help, but inwardly happy I got passed over so
easily.

Rather than simply standing around staring at the others as they bustled around the
full truck, I decided to follow Ana back to the cabin she shared next to mine with
Jacks, to help unload the multitude of supplies she would soon find unnecessary.
Five nursery lamps…really?
Who needed that many lights in a baby's room? Or two boxes -
BOXES
of baby blankets. Ana was soon going to find out how much laundry a little person
created, unless her plan was to throw out everything that got dirty. Knowing her prissy
personality, I didn't doubt that as a possibility.

Watching her hobble up and down steps was my newfound guilty pleasure. Once she started
showing she couldn't hide the pregnancy anymore. And I suspected it was because she
was nervous about who the baby's father was. It wasn't my place to know, so I didn't
ask. But I hoped that Jacks had. Not that it mattered much; he was sold on the idea
of becoming a parent and if the math fit for him, so be it. She claimed to be somewhere
around the end of her second trimester, which meant the ever-increasing swell of her
stomach was becoming a daily spectator event, much to her displeasure.

Ana's usual tight-clothed, high-heeled fashion sense had been replaced with one that
would rival any hippie's wardrobe. In fact, she dressed more like me…minus the jeans.
She hated anything that was tight around her stomach or chest, which meant no more
skinny jeans and push-up bras. Oh, the joys of pregnancy. Her dangly jewelry didn't
go away though or the solid coat of makeup she wore daily. How she kept a constant
supply of foundation on hand, I had no idea.

"So, do you want me to unpack the clothes…maybe hang them up in the closet?" I stood
at the foot of the stairs, holding a bag of multi-colored socks not much bigger than
my thumb and baby jumpers in my arms.

"No, no, no. I'll do it. Jacks has to put the dresser together first. I want the clothes
in there." She grabbed the bag from me and wobbled up the stairs to the second floor.
I tried not to laugh at the view.

"What about the blankets…you want those upstairs too?" I called after her. I figured
I'd be safe with blankets.

"No, not
yet
! Those go in the dresser
too
," her voice trailed off as she walked down the hall into the spare bedroom turned
nursery but I still caught what she said next,
"…honestly, I'm surrounded by idiots!"

I counted to ten before taking a deep breath and trying to sound as if I hadn't heard
her. "Hey, maybe I'll just go next-door and make lunch for everyone?" I needed an
excuse to escape. It was still an hour before noon, but Ana was making it impossible
to help. As was her usual way.

"Fine, whatever!" she hollered down the stairs.

Kris was parking the golf-cart in front of the cabin when I stepped back outside.
The hot rays of the sun warmed my shoulders immediately. I made a mental note to put
my bikini on after lunch and take a quick swim in the lake before I got too caught
up in Ana's crazy decorating. With my bandages off, I was finally allowed back in
the water.

Poor Kris was already caught in Ana's net. She was unloading more bags and small containers
out of the back of the cart and smiled up at me as I approached. It was fun for her
- planning for a baby. Half the group was beyond excited. Those of us that had already
been parents were torn with conflicting emotions though. I know we were devastated,
but we would never admit that out loud. I was happy for Ana and Jacks, truly I was.
But her pregnancy was a constant reminder of my own lost children. On the inside,
I was loathing the day Ana's baby cried for the first time.

I stood with my hands thrust into the pockets of my jean shorts and took in the view
around me. The lodge was a lovely place. Even though we had lost the main building
and the greenhouse, the rest of the property was still beautiful. The lake was perfect
for the hot summer days and there was more than enough room for everyone to have their
own space. I should have felt happy, because I had Connor. But it was becoming harder
and harder to shrug off the survivor guilt and the depression. It was on Connor's
face too. The dark rings below our eyes never seemed to go away. The longing for the
innocent lives we had lost - it was slowly consuming us.

***

Each flick of the small waves exhaled a cool breeze that paired nicely with the refreshing
temperature of the lake water. I drifted aimlessly atop a full-length inflatable float
with my eyes closed, enjoying the penetrating heat of the early afternoon sunshine.
My left elbow dangled slightly over the side of the small raft so that every other
wave slapped against it softly. It was strangely comforting and relaxing. Other than
my backside, which was an inch or two under the water line, my left arm was the only
part of me that was thoroughly wet.

A subtle shift in the waves made me open my eyes and despite the glare of the sun
on the water, I caught a glimpse of something dark floating toward me on my right.
When I lifted my head up to get a better look, whatever it was quickly sank below
the surface. After trying to sit up, the flimsy float bowed beneath me, dipping me
lower into the lake. Panicking, my legs had nowhere to go but back into the water
as I stared into the darkness beneath me, waiting for whatever I saw to surface again.

I could see Zoey where she lay stretched out on her side at the end of the dock, snoozing
in the sun; it wasn't the dog swimming in the water. As the current shifted below
me, a strangled sound pushed its way up my throat and escaped out of my mouth just
as I pictured the shark from
Jaws
. This is absurd because I knew there wasn’t a shark in the lake, but my imagination
was taking no prisoners and held firmly to the thought that I was seconds away from
being torn to pieces by razor-sharp teeth. All of a sudden, a set of hands burst out
of the water and grabbed my arm, pulling me into the lake with a loud splash.

I kicked and fought off my attacker under the water and forced myself back up for
air. Once I gulped in enough oxygen to breathe, a face surfaced just in front of mine.
Bright blue eyes peered at me mischievously beneath a full head of dark hair.

"Bastard! You almost gave me a heart attack!" I screamed at Connor and splashed his
laughing face with water. Zoey lifted her head up slightly to gaze at us before stretching
and rolling onto her back. She returned to napping with her front legs pointing up
at the sky.

"I'm sorry," Connor choked out the words between laughs and watery coughs, "I'm sorry…you
just looked too comfortable…I
had
to mess with ya." He reached forward and grabbed my upper arms, tugging me into his
chest.

"Relaxing was the point, jackass!" I struggled in his strong grip but my slight frame
was no match against his long and lean one. I let my mouth fill with water and spit
it at him, enjoying his shocked expression.

"Did you just spit
in my face
?" He pulled me tighter into him, sliding an arm around my waist, effectively pinning
my chest to his. His fingers began a rhythmic prodding up and down my side and hip.

I squealed with laughter as he tickled me mercilessly while our bodies slid together
and bobbed up and down in the water. I tried several times to dunk him, but couldn't
push myself far enough away from his grip to get the proper leverage.