Sarah Durst - The Lost

I can’t simply stay here and wait. I have to move. I have to go. I can’t...I just can’t.

My mother is dying.

Hands jammed into my pockets, I shuffle down the sidewalk and try to look inconspicuous. I haven’t been to the center of Lost since I was driven out, and Main Street hasn’t improved much. All the buildings look one hard breath away from crumbling into rubble. Piles of garbage lean against them. The sidewalk concrete is chopped and full of weeds that choke every available crack.

I already regret coming.

I see kids in the alleyways, perched in and around Dumpsters and on towers of cardboard boxes. In one alley, they’ve constructed a wall of old doors and signs. A few of them watch me.

The Moonlight Diner sign blinks at me in the distance, only three blocks away. I can make it, I think. From there, Victoria and Sean will spread the word.

A woman in a filthy pink tracksuit lurches out of one house. She’s holding a dead bird in one hand, tight around the neck. She stumbles across the street into an alley. Another woman on hands and knees plants dead flowers in a manicured bed of soil and mulch. She’s humming to herself.

Two blocks to the diner.

I should have waited for Peter. I should have insisted the Missing Man come with me. I should have waited for Victoria’s next visit, or for the next person to come seeking help.

The Missing Man still owes me an explanation—why he fled in the first place, what he’s been doing, why he knows anything about my mother’s condition, and why he came back to tell me. I should be back at the house, badgering answers out of the Missing Man, instead of here trying to save everyone that I’d ever met...except that’s exactly why I’m here, isn’t it? I want to save everyone I can. Maybe then I’ll be able to find a way to save the one who mattered most.

Jesus, I have got to stop with the psychoanalysis. I’m annoying myself.

At last, I walk up the steps to the diner. The bell over the door rings as I enter, and everyone turns to look at me as I walk in. Victoria drops a plate of food. It shatters on the floor.

I slide into one of the booths. Pick up a menu. Wave at Victoria as if she were only a waitress, not someone I know. She steps over the broken glass and then stands by my booth. Her pad and pen are in her hand.

“He’s back,” I say.

All of them...Victoria, Sean, and the customers...file out of the diner behind me. I feel like the Pied Piper. I hear the whispers and then more footsteps. Others have joined us. I don’t turn around as I lead them into the alleys.

It feels as if there’s a swarm of bees following me. Docile for now, but they might not stay that way. I’m ending my anonymity and the safety of my home. Once all these people know...but it won’t be my home much longer. I don’t have to protect it. It’s over. I only have to complete the loop, finish what I began, and make amends for driving away the Missing Man in the first place by saving everyone that I can.

And somehow, find a way to say goodbye to Peter.

I feel my heart crumble as I think it. I knew this would come, that we weren’t and couldn’t be permanent, but still...the thought of not seeing him when I wake, of not hearing his laugh, of never... I won’t think about it right now.

As we emerge from the alleys into the outskirts of town, I glance over my shoulder. I see nearly fifty people—men, women, and kids. Some are following with wide-eyed, beatific expressions on their faces, pilgrims to the holy land. They’re coming to meet their messiah, so to speak. Others don’t have the glow. They make me nervous.

Tiffany is first, only a few paces behind me. She knows the way, of course, but lets me lead. I wonder what the Missing Man is going to say when he sees all these people coming. I wonder if he’ll be pleased or furious. I don’t understand his motivations. I should have learned more before I fled after Claire.

Soon, much too soon, we reach the little yellow house.

He isn’t on the porch, but the front door is wide-open. My heart begins to pound so fast that I feel it thumping in my throat. What if he isn’t here? a little voice whispers. He has to be here! He owes me answers.

I hold up my hand, and the mob comes to a halt.

“Missing Man?” I walk up the stairs. “I’m back. It’s Lauren. I’ve brought some people who want to see you, some people who need you.” I walk into the house. It’s silent, except for my footsteps and my heartbeat, which is thudding so loud that it almost hurts. “Missing Man? Claire? Peter? Anyone home?”

I check the kitchen, the dining room, the bedrooms, the attic room... I look out the window and see the ocean is again lapping at the house. The void is several miles out, but the ocean is here, high tide, higher than I’ve ever seen. It laps at the downstairs window sills and sprays the glass.

“I’m not going without you,” a little voice says behind me.

“Claire!”

She’s huddled in the corner of the attic with both her bears and Mr. Rabbit. “You can’t make me. He can’t make me.”

I run to her and kneel next to her. “Claire...where is he?”

She doesn’t say anything.

“Claire,” I say slowly, calmly, evenly. “What did you do to him?” She isn’t holding her knife. I wonder where her knife is, and then I try not to wonder. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. “Did you... Claire, where is the Missing Man?”

She lifts her head. “Don’t know.”

“Don’t know or don’t want to tell me?” I hear voices downstairs. People have come into the house. I don’t have much time before someone comes upstairs.

“Don’t know. He wasn’t here when I came back.”

I believe her. I have to believe her. “Claire.” I place my hands on her shoulders. “He won’t hurt you. He only wants to send you, us, home. He can do it just by saying a few words. ‘You were lost; you are found.’ Like that. It won’t hurt. You saw Colin. He was smiling. But if you’re scared, you don’t have to do it alone. We’ll do it together, okay? We’ll wait until I find what I lost, and then we’ll have him send us at the same time...” I trail off because I can see through her. She’s translucent.

I spring backward, releasing her shoulders.

Her face twists as she sees my expression. “Lauren, what’s wrong?” She reaches for me and sees her hand. “No! No, I don’t want to go! Lauren, don’t make me go!” But she’s fading. I reach for her, and my hands slide through her. I can’t touch her.

“Claire! Claire, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean...”

Mr. Rabbit and the teddy bears fall to the floor.

There are footsteps on the stairs.

I can’t face them. The Missing Man is gone. Claire is gone. I run across the attic room. Opening the window, I climb onto the sill, carefully stepping between the nails. And like Peter did weeks ago, I leap out the window.

I fall into the ocean below.

I swim and then keep swimming until my side aches and my lungs burn. At first, I heard several people follow me into the water, splashing and shouting, but now I only hear a few, swimming steadily behind me. I hope they aren’t stronger swimmers than I am. I hope they don’t find a boat.

They’ll hate me now. I promised them salvation and denied it. Even I would hate me.

Ahead, a silver streak cuts through the waves, and I catch the dorsal fin of my dolphin. She pulls me through the waves so fast that the water batters away any and all thoughts. I let her pull me as far as I can, until my arms shake, and my hands slip, and I slide away from her. She leaps out of the ocean. Moonlight glistens on her flanks.