The Lost and Found Read online

  I'M A ROLLING STONE, ALL ALONE AND LOST,

  FOR A LIFE OF SIN, I HAVE PAID THE COST.

  WHEN I PASS BY, ALL THE PEOPLE SAY

  "JUST ANOTHER GUY ON THE LOST HIGHWAY."

  JUST A DECK OF CARDS AND A JUG OF WINE

  AND A WOMAN'S LIES MAKE A LIFE LIKE MINE.

  OH, THE DAY WE MET, I WENT ASTRAY,

  I STARTED ROLLIN' DOWN THAT LOST HIGHWAY.

  I WAS JUST A LAD, NEARLY TWENTY-TWO,

  NEITHER GOOD NOR BAD, JUST A KID LIKE YOU,

  AND NOW I'M LOST, TOO LATE TO PRAY,

  LORD, I'VE PAID THE COST ON THE LOST HIGHWAY.

  NOW, BOYS, DON'T START YOUR RAMBLIN' ROUND,

  ON THIS ROAD OF SIN OR YOU'RE SORROW BOUND.

  TAKE MY ADVICE OR YOU'LL CURSE THE DAY

  YOU STARTED ROLLIN' DOWN THAT LOST HIGHWAY

  Jake was the last one to join his tightly-knit group of friends. He didn't come along and unite with the gang until midway through their junior year of high school, almost immediately bonding with the three young men after a chance meeting in the campus parking lot and impressing them with his knowledge of the lyrics from an X-Rated rapper named Too Short, which was booming from the inside of Brad's 1982 BMW 320i. That was nineteen-ninety-six when listening to things like that wouldn't have been so embarrassing, he would often clarify.

  Jake was the only one in the crew to go away to college. It felt silly, but he wished he had stayed back with his friends. He would always feel slightly crestfallen when the boys would call and tell tales of the escapades, the most recent of which involved two cops, three sets of handcuffs and less than an ounce of marijuana. As silly as it seemed, even to himself, Jake wished he had been there and provided a necessity for a fourth pair of cuffs. But no, he had left and life was not turning out to be what he had initially expected. In fact, the out-of-town college didn't really do much for him in the long run, anyway. After three years of earning his degree in graphic design, he ended up back in Omaha being a server at a local, and rather shitty (he thought) steakhouse.

  It was at that shitty steakhouse he met a woman named Michelle. She had come in one bright and sunny early-Spring afternoon and applied for a hostess position they had open. Jake was immediately smitten and begged his boss to hire her. It took Jake six long, painful years- YEARS!- to finally get up the nerve to ask her out. He watched from the sidelines as she moved through boyfriend after boyfriend like an attention-starved pseudo-celebrity, each new increment to her love life like a red-hot poker through Jake's yearning heart.

  He was sitting at the bar one night after his shift. The restaurant was closed and the only people left dwelling were employees finishing up the nightly chores. By this time, Michelle had been promoted to a server and was just finishing up her shift as Jake was finishing up his fourth Newcastle. She walked into the bar, removing her apron and setting it on a bar-stool. She took a seat next to him and gave him an elbow-nudge in the arm.

  "Hey buddy," she said to him, her smile beaming despite being exhausted.

  Jake gulped down his mouthful of ale and looked at her, returning an elbow-nudge of his own. "Hey there pretty lady."

 

  "What a shitty night," she sighed as she signaled to the bartender who was busy cleaning up. "You would not believe some of the customers I had tonight." The mixologist, as he referred to himself, came over and poured Michelle a beer. "Thanks, Eric."

  "Why wouldn't I believe the crappy customers you had?" Jake mockingly inquired. "I work here too, remember?"

  "Oh stop," Michelle said, leaning in and bumping Jake on the shoulder, causing him to rock on his bar-stool. "You know what I mean, Shithead."

  He didn't think about it, he just blurted it out with the help of his liquid courage. "Ya know what? Would you maybe want to go out sometime?"

  Her face recoiled a bit and she looked at him quizzically, waiting to see if he was messing with her. His face stayed perfectly still, though, with no sign of a jocular expression. After a moment, she began to smile and her cheeks turned as red as a cherry tomato. "Are you asking me on a date, Jacob Arthur Boyd?"

  Jacob couldn't make the words move from his throat, opting instead to simply shake his head up and down in the slightest of manner.

  "I'd love to."

  Their first date consisted of a day-long comedy of errors. Nothing went as planned and Jake thought for sure that he had blown his big chance. The movie they wanted to see was sold-out and they were forced to see some god-awful, desperate attempt at comedy featuring a young, black comedian dressing in drag and pretending to be a hip grandmother. It was painful to watch. After the big-screen disaster, the restaurant he promised to take her to had nearly a two-hour wait. They ended up eating greasy, fried food from a local burger joint. Glamorous was hardly the word to describe the date. While taking Michelle back home, Jake's truck blew a tire and left them stranded on the side of the road for nearly two hours. When the night was over he was sure he would never get another date with her.

  He went home, promptly undressed and fell on his bed, feeling like an unmitigated loser. He heard a soft, brief vibration from atop his night stand. He reached for his cellphone, flipped it open and discovered Michelle had sent him a text message. He was almost too uneasy to open it. He feared the worst when he scrolled over to READ and hit the center button. It took Jake five readings of the concise message displayed on the small screen before he was able to absorb the good news. Michelle had had a good time. A riant ambience flowed through his veins like a drug and he could feel a toothy grin form on his face. He enjoyed the sensation for a few minutes before returning the message.

  The next few years were filled with the wonted ups and downs of any relationship. Things were mostly good for the both of them, though. Michelle eventually got a bartending job at another restaurant which actually made their situation more prosperous. Jake eventually moved most of his stuff from his parent's house into Michelle's apartment. Living together proved to be quite a challenge that Jake wasn't expecting but they stayed strong and made it work. They were able to withstand a calamitous miscarriage together and she provided a source of strength and foundation for Jake and his friends after the accident that claimed the lives of his best friend's parents.

 

  Things managed to stay held together fairly well until Mark told them he had testicular cancer. Subsequently, Jake became harder and harder to be with. Michelle understood wholly that he was worried about his friend and perhaps he was even starting to question his own mortality. She fought through the hard times and remained a loyal girlfriend. It wasn't until she left work early one night and returned home to find Jake sitting on the sofa, patiently waiting for her return, a messenger bag sitting at his feet, that she realized just how serious the situation was.

  Michelle's smile instantly turned dour when she saw him. She knew what was coming, even if she hadn't expected it.

  "I have to go, Michelle," he told her. Her eyes began to swell and a tear beaded down her cheek. Jake grabbed his bag and stood up. "I just can't deal with it anymore. It's too much. I feel like I'm going to implode."

  "Can't we talk to this out?" Michelle mumbled, trying desperately to hold back the release of more tears.

 

  "I just need some time alone. I need to think things out. I've got...I love you, I do, I just can't." He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek causing her to no longer be able to hold back. It broke Jake's heart to leave her while she was crying, but his mind was made up and he needed to be strong and follow through with what he wanted. He removed the apartment key from his key ring and set it on the entryway table, then opened the door and walked out, down the stairs to his fully packed and loaded car. He ended up moving back in with his parents, where he remains to this day.

 
/>   It didn't take him long to realize what a mistake he had made. At the time he made it, he was convinced he would be happier on his own, without a boat anchor tied to his life. He had been sick of all the small, stupid shit she would always do. Shit that just grated on his nerves over a long period of time until he almost couldn't stand to see her face anymore. But he was wrong. He was now bitter and alone. A thirty-three year old man who just moved back in with his parents.

  Over the next couple of months he tried to apologize to Michelle and win her back, with no luck. She had been heartbroken and was angry with him. She refused to let him back into her life just so he could do it again. She had been hurt before in the past and never once did she allow the same person to do it twice. She eventually began to scratch at Jake's scab of anguish by reciting to him the plenitude of men she had fucked since his departure. It wasn't true, but Jake didn't know that.

 

  He tried copiously to win her back. To apologize. She began to not accept his calls though. He grew severely depressed. Michelle was the greatest thing that ever happened to him and he threw it all away with one horribly ill-conceived adjudication. It was something for which he would never forgive himself.

  Tonight, he was sitting on the side of his bed with Michelle's contact open on the screen of his iPhone, waiting for him to hit the call button, when it began to vibrate in his hand. The screen flashed to an Incoming Call from Brad. He answered it to the sound of Brad's frantic voice.

 

  When I wake up yeah I know I'm gonna be

  I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you

  When I go out yeah I know I'm gonna be

  I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you

  If I get drunk yes I know I'm gonna be

  I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you

  And if I haver yeah I know I'm gonna be

  I'm gonna be the man who's havering to you

  But I would walk 500 miles

  And I would walk 500 more

  Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles

  To fall down at your door

  When I'm working yes I know I'm gonna be

  I'm gonna be the man who's working hard for you

  And when the money comes in for the work I'll do

  I'll pass almost every penny on to you

  When I come home yeah I know I'm gonna be

  I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you

  And if I grow old well I know I'm gonna be

  I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you

  But I would walk 500 miles

  And I would walk 500 more

  Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles

  To fall down at your door

  When I'm lonely yes I know I'm gonna be

  I'm gonna be the man whose lonely without you

  When I'm dreaming yes I know I'm gonna dream

  Dream about the time when I'm with you.

  But I would walk 500 miles

  And I would walk 500 more

  Just to be the man who walked 1000 miles

  To fall down at your door

  Brad Augustine was born on the same day, in the same hospital and within one hour of his best friend Mark. Not only that, as both babies left the hospital, also on the same day, they returned to their homes on the same street. This, of course, was not known to either of them at the time. It wasn't until Brad's mom noticed the family down the street had a boy of about the same age as her son. She was driving to the grocery store one day and passed by Mark's house while the whole family was out in the front yard. She stopped the car, leaned over and rolled down the window to introduce herself. She told them she also had a little boy and would love to have them over sometime, let the kids play together for a bit. The family agreed and came over for supper that weekend. It was then that it was discovered just how much the two three-year-olds had in common.

  They played together nearly every day while the mom's visited and discussed sewing or the latest episode of Dallas. When it was time for kindergarten to start, Brad and Mark welcomed a new boy into the fray; Daniel, a cute-as-a-button half-Spanish boy with a bowl haircut who lived a block over. The three boys did everything together, from pee-wee soccer and t-ball to helping their parents with various chores in and around the house.

  When high school rolled around and they began dating, they would almost always go as a group. It was Spring of their junior year when a new young man began hanging around with them and it seemed like in no time at all, he had belonged with them the whole time.

  After earning their AA Degrees, Jake, the newest member of the pack, left for college, while the original trio stay in Omaha and continued their education through the state college. It was there that Brad met his wife Jeni. She shared one of Brad's classes and he decided to bite the bullet and simply ask her out one day after class. She accepted with a smile. They dated for three years, practically becoming inseparable. She worked her way into the group of friends naturally and was always welcomed. Mark and Daniel had a few girlfriends here and there who all seemed friendly, but they never lasted very long.

  When Jake came into town for a visit, the four of them went shopping for an engagement ring. Brad had insisted they come along and help. He didn't have much money, in fact, none of the boys really did, but they found a perfectly adequate diamond that fit Brad's budget. The other three boys kicked in to help pay for it.

  Brad proposed to Jeni on the night of their graduation at her apartment. She thought they were alone but as soon as she said yes, the door burst open and in walked the gang, offering their immediate celebratory words, Mark popping a bottle of cheap champagne, shaking it up and spraying it over the sofa like he just won the NBA Championship (something that probably would have annoyed Jeni immensely, had she not already been so elated.) Jake had made the long drive back home just to be there, but promptly had to drive back as soon as the boys were to make their leave and let the happy couple be alone, as his own graduation was in two days.

  Mark, Daniel and Jake all stood by Brad's side and watched as his bride walked down the aisle toward him. Mark had been in charge of the ring, a task that had caused him much anxiety. He clutched it in his right hand from the moment they left that morning until it was time to hand it over. By then, it was a hot, sweaty mess.

  Shortly after Daniel's secret child arrived and he took the coward's way out, Jeni and Brad announced that soon they would be parents. That summer, just two weeks after the loss of Mark's parents, they welcomed a baby girl who they chose to name Carolyn, after Mark's mother. Upon hearing the surprise news of the name, right there in the hospital waiting room, Mark began to weep. Shortly after, the rest of them had tears welling up, though none wanted to admit to it.

  Carolyn was the most beautiful thing Brad had ever laid eyes on. She was the absolute love of his life and he knew he would die before ever letting harm come to her. When she was two weeks old, Brad accompanied Mark to the hospital to have a lump on his testicle checked out.

  Brad took up the responsibility of constantly checking and taking care of his best friend, as he seemed to worsen every day. Whenever he got off work at a local drug store, he would stop by Mark's to check on him before heading home. He would usually send him texts daily asking if he needed anything and would often bring Carolyn by to cheer him up.

  Mark had a nurse who stopped by every day to administer drugs and he also had a girlfriend who helped take the sole burden off of Brad, something he was happy about, but as Mark got worse, without warning, the girlfriend left. Left him to die alone. Brad was furious with her. He knew he would never hit a woman, but he sure did fantasize about running in to her and giving her what he felt she deserved.

  When Brad arrived at Mark's parent's old house, where Mark was currently living, he heard loud music comi
ng from inside, which he took as the reason to why his knocks were going unanswered. Brad had a key to the house that he was given to let himself in, just in case Mark was sleeping or too weak to get up, which seemed to be quite often these days. Brad dug into his pocket, grabbed the key and inserted it into the lock. The music grew even louder as the door opened up and he followed the sound to Mark's bedroom where he discovered his best friend lying on his back with a sly smile on his face. Brad's heart sank. His friend was dead.

  He turned the music down and walked slowly towards his friend and discovered the empty pill bottle on the bed and the iPhone sitting on Mark's chest. He picked up the phone, pressing the home button to wake it from its slumber. There were two meager lines typed out on the notebook app.

  It read: PLEASE SPREAD MY ASHES OVER THE PACIFIC OCEAN. LOVE M

  Brad panicked. He tossed the phone on the floor and pulled Mark up to a seated position on the bed and felt for a pulse. It was there. It wasn't too late. He reached into his pocket and removed his own phone to call 9-1-1. An ambulance was on the way. Brad felt helpless and didn't know what to do.

  "You son of a bitch!" he screamed. "What the fuck are you doing, dude?!" He began to shake Mark by the shoulders. He decided to try something. He opened up Mark's mouth and shoved his hand down Mark's throat. Eventually, vomit began to shoot out like water from a hose freeing itself from a crick. Brad instinctively withdrew his hand in repulsion but realized it was necessary. He continued to make Mark throw up. By the time the paramedics rushed in, Brad was sitting in a puddle of puke and Mark was semi-conscious.

  As Mark was wheeled away, Brad stayed behind. He needed to shower and steal some of Mark's clothes. He would meet them at the hospital. He picked up his phone from the soaked bed and did his best to wipe the green and red chunks from it. He had a few calls to make.