Brett Battles - Every Precious Thing

As they waited for their food, Harp said, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about your dad.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I know he meant a lot to you, too.”

“He was a special man. I don’t know what my life would have been like without him.”

Callie bit the inside of her lip, obviously attempting to keep her emotions in check. Finally she said, “He left something for you.”

Harp looked surprised. “For me? What?”

“I don’t know.” She opened her purse and withdrew a padded envelope about an inch thick. “It was in a box of things Dad told Michael and me about. He said once he was gone, we should open it and we’d know what to do. There were packages for several people inside.” She looked at the envelope and then handed it to Harp. “This one has your name on it.”

Written across the front in thick black ink was FOR HARP. Below this was his address in Cambria. Harp stared at his name for a moment, then looked at Callie and said, “Thank you.”

As he started to set the package on the seat beside him, she asked, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

Logan was sure Harp wanted to wait until he was alone, but Callie was Len’s daughter, and the package was, in essence, one of his last messages. She’d want to know what was inside, too.

Harp also seemed to sense this. “Sure,” he said, and set the package on the table.

A single strip of packing tape held the package closed. Harp carefully ripped it off, then reached inside the envelope and pulled out the contents.

A book. An old book.

Harp looked at it, his face growing in wonder. “Oh, my god,” he said.

“What is it?” Logan asked.

Harp turned the book so Logan and Callie could see it. It was a hardcover, and though torn a little at one end, the dust jacket was still intact. Arched across the top portion was the title Lost Horizon , below this was a brown illustration of some buildings on a mountain, and at the very bottom was the name James Hilton.

Logan had read Lost Horizon in high school. It hadn’t been an English class requirement. It was something Harp had suggested he read. And while the story was long dated even then, Logan had enjoyed it enough to read it again in college.

In almost fearful anticipation, Harp opened the cover, sucked in a breath, then touched the inside near the top.

Softly, Logan said, “Dad?”

Harp looked at him, his eyes brimming with tears, and showed Logan what he’d found.

Written on the inside cover in pen was TOM HARPER.

Harp’s big brother. Logan’s uncle whom he had never met.

“I haven’t seen this since before he left for…before he left home,” Harp said. Logan knew his father had only been ten when his brother joined the navy during the war. “He used to have me read parts out loud to him when he was working around the farm. Said it was good practice for me.”

Logan had never known that. He thought Lost Horizon was a book his father had wanted him to read just as a whim. How wrong he’d been.

“He took this with him,” Harp went on. “I thought it got lost over there.”

Callie said, “My dad once told me the day Tom’s plane didn’t return was one of the worst of his life. He must have found the book in Tom’s things and saved it. He probably meant to give it to you long ago.”

“I didn’t realize they actually served together,” Logan said.

Harp nodded absently, his attention still on the book. “They were both ordnancemen on PBYs, just on different planes.”

Callie picked up the discarded packaging and looked inside. “There’s something else,” she said. She withdrew a white, business-sized envelope and handed it to Harp.

This was nowhere near as old as the book. On the front was scrawled MANILA.

“What’s that mean?” Logan asked.

Instead of answering, Harp looked inside the envelope, then closed it again without showing it to anyone else.

“It’s nothing,” Harp told him. He put the book and the envelope back into the package, and set it on his lap, out of sight.

There were so many questions Logan wanted to ask-about Uncle Tommy, about the book, about the envelope-but Harp was a million miles away.

After their food finally arrived, and they’d started eating, Callie glanced at Logan. “Dad mentioned your, uh, trip a few months ago.”

“My trip?” Logan asked.

“Where you helped that girl? Brought her back?”

Logan looked at his father. “I didn’t know we were sharing that with other people.”

“You can’t seriously think I wouldn’t have told Len,” Harp said.

Logan frowned, and turned back to Callie. “I got lucky, that’s all. There’s not much of a story to tell.”

She hesitated a moment. “I’m not asking you to tell me the story. I’m asking you for help.”

“Help? what kind of help?” Logan asked, hoping he was wrong about where Callie was going.

“It…it actually wasn’t my idea. It was Dad’s.”

“Len?” Harp said, looking at her with interest.

She nodded. “When he went into the hospital last weekend, the doctors told us it was very unlikely he’d be coming out. My brothers and I took turns sitting with him so that he was never alone. He slept a lot, but there were a few times when he’d wake and want to talk.” She smiled at the memory. “He and I, we’ve always talked a lot, and when I became a lawyer, it seemed as if we talked more than ever. Every time I ran into a problem case, he was the first one I turned to. I can’t remember a time when he didn’t suggest something I hadn’t thought about.” She paused. “One night at the hospital, he wanted to talk about how work was going, and about any issues I might be having.

“I told him I did have one case that had reached a point where I didn’t know what to do next. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something that could be fixed with a creative motion in court or a well-written letter on firm stationery. He said he wanted to hear about it anyway, so I told him. When I finished, I thought he’d fallen asleep, but apparently he was thinking. After a bit, he opened his eyes and said, ‘You need to talk to Harp.’”

As she said his name, Harp rubbed a self-conscious hand across his mouth.

Callie shifted her gaze to Logan. “That’s when he told me about what you did for that girl, that you’d gone clear to Asia to find her.”

“It wasn’t as big a deal as he probably made out,” Logan said.

Harp frowned. “Don’t listen to him. It was a big deal. If Logan hadn’t been there…” He shook his head.

Callie’s eyes were still on Logan. “I’ve come to a dead end. I’m hoping there might be something you could do.”

“I’m sure there is. We’d be happy to look into it, won’t we, Logan?” Harp said.

Logan adjusted himself in his chair. What he’d done for Harp’s friend Tooney, bringing the man’s granddaughter back, had happened because if he hadn’t done something, no one would have. He wasn’t so sure that was a good habit to get into. Then again, Callie was basically family. You didn’t turn your back on family.

“What exactly are you hoping I’ll do?” he asked.

“Find my client’s wife,” she said.

Her answer did nothing to dissipate his discomfort. “If you think I’m some kind of missing persons expert, you’re mistaken.”

“Technically, she’s not missing.”

“Technically?”

Callie took a moment to collect her thoughts, then said, “My client’s name is Alan Lindley. A month and a half ago, he and his wife Sara went to San Diego for a long weekend. On their last day, they decided to visit Tijuana. He says they had a wonderful time, but as they were headed back for the border, Sara realized she’d lost her passport and didn’t have any other ID. Alan crossed the border alone to get her driver’s license out of her luggage so they could get her a temporary passport, but when he got to the car, her things weren’t there. Only a note telling him she was gone.”