Let's Get Lost

“This turns into a salsa club on Tuesday nights,” Hudson said. “The lanes make for a great dance floor.”

Leila smiled and gave him a light shove, letting him know that she wasn’t falling for it. But she looked around the room as if searching for clues that it might be true. As she swiveled her head, Hudson caught a glimpse of a scar poking out from her hairline behind her ear, just the tiniest sliver of damaged flesh. Then she turned back to him, combing a tress of hair over her ear and hiding the scar. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“Please don’t argue with your tour guide,” Hudson said, leading them to the shoe counter. Unlike other bowling alleys that invested in cubbyholes, Riverside Lanes had a much different storage system for their shoes.

“This is ridiculous,” Leila said, staring at the massive pile of shoes, more than a few of which had fallen off the counter. A group of junior high girls came by, chatting excitedly about weekend plans, each of them tossing a pair of shoes haphazardly onto the pile. It shifted, and Hudson saw Leila brace for the pile of footwear to come tumbling at them.

“No, this is awesome,” Hudson corrected. “Whenever the pile falls, an employee yells out, ‘Avalanche!’ and then everyone in the house gets a free game.”

“Wouldn’t people just knock it over, then?”

Hudson shook his head, as if no one had ever considered that before. “Where’s the fun in that?” He crossed his arms over his chest, admiring the sight of all those separated pairs of shoes, the laces sticking out everywhere, like arms seeking salvation from a pile of rubble.

Hudson glanced at Leila, trying to get a sense of whether she was enjoying herself. Then a couple in their twenties came up to the pile and began to rummage. “The tour will continue this way,” Hudson said, touching Leila briefly on the shoulder as he led her through the bowling alley. He walked backward, like an actual tour guide. “On your left you will spot the snack bar, which still advertises freshly made pretzels despite being sold out for the last twelve years. On your right in lane six you can see the local bowling legend known as The Beaver, who’s bowled three perfect games and has never smiled at anyone but fallen pins. Please, no flash photography,” Hudson cracked, pointing out a hefty man in his sixties whose gut drooped over his belt.

“Our next stop is the men’s bathroom,” Hudson said, thinking of the chalkboard over the urinals. It was always adorned with a mix of inane vulgarities, doodles, and the occasional heartfelt message, scrawled in sloppy handwriting that indicated its author was either drunk or his focus was split with another task at hand. “You can really see some lovely things there.”

There was a pause before Hudson realized what he’d just said. He turned to Leila, who raised an eyebrow at him. “That didn’t come out right. I meant that some people really show parts of themselves that usually stay hidden.” He tensed a fist closed, stopping himself. “Nope, that didn’t clear anything up. What I meant was—” Hudson said, but he was interrupted by Leila bursting into laughter.

Hudson smiled nervously. “There’s a chalkboard in there,” he started to explain, but he was too enraptured by the sound of her laughter to keep going. It emptied his thoughts, that laugh.

“Don’t worry. I assume it wasn’t what it sounded like,” she said, catching her breath.

Hudson shook his head at himself and turned to the bathroom and pushed the door open. “Tour group coming through!” he announced.

When no one responded, he held the door open for Leila and made a sweeping motion of welcome. “After you, ma’am.”

“This is the strangest tour I’ve ever been on,” Leila said, entering the bathroom and giving him an inquisitive look with just a hint of a smile to it.

“Keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times,” he said as she passed by.

Two urinals, a stall, and a sink was all there was to the bathroom. An automated hand-drier that barely whirred hung from one wall. Leila looked up at the chalkboard over the urinals. Hudson followed her gaze, trying to guess which bit of scrawled handwriting she was reading.

Someone had doodled an impressive dragon. Joan slept with The Beaver! was scrawled in block letters across the top of the board. And below that, in tiny script, as if the author had meant it as a whisper, You have been relentlessly on my mind. Lyrics to a Johnny Cash song, a Bible verse, and a drawing of a penis were scattered across the wall. Hudson couldn’t help but smile at the collection of escaped thoughts captured in chalk. He looked back at Leila and saw that she was smiling, too, her hands behind her as if she were appraising a piece of art.

“You see the treasures?” he asked.

She nodded, her lips spreading into a smile, her gaze passing over the smudges of white and blue chalk. “That’s my favorite Vonnegut quote,” she said, pointing at the line I urge you to please notice when you are happy.

Hudson felt himself blush, wondering whether to confess that he’d been the one to write it on the chalkboard a week ago. “This is fantastic,” she said. Then she reached for one of the inch-long pieces of chalk sitting on the metallic ledge of the board. Taking only a brief moment to gather her thoughts, Leila stood on tiptoe to reach a blank spot, her neat handwriting standing out against the rest of the words on the board. People of Vicksburg, you live in a special place.

Silly, how rewarding just that one comment from her was, how it made Hudson want to keep on babbling, to take her to every single place that he’d enjoyed for even a millisecond.

Hudson led them back to the car, eager to show her anything else at all. They went to the church that had burned down and been rebuilt by the town, the Capture the Flag field at the park by his house, the closed-up candy shop where a dead body had once been found, making the lone remaining bag of root-beer–flavored candy Hudson had in his house feel very much like a treasure.

“You know what? Why don’t I take you to go see it?”

“Your house?”

“Yeah,” he said, surprised by his own boldness but thankful for it. “You know, for the root-beer candy.”

Leila considered him. He held up an understanding hand. “I’m acting purely as a treasure guide here. It might not be the most interesting place to everyone, but it’s a place that I know well enough to know where all the hidden details are. Don’t you want to see the room that Hudson the famed mechanic has been sleeping in for seventeen years?”

She tilted her head back and squinted as if she were examining him. He worried he’d messed things up until he realized she was mock-scrutinizing him, saw the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Do you have one of those race-car–shaped beds?” she asked.

“I do not,” he said, pretending to be offended as he switched his foot to the gas pedal. “I got too big for it last year.”

Leila burst out laughing again. For fear that he would giggle with pride as soon as he opened his mouth, Hudson kept quiet on the short drive to his house.

* * *

Hudson parked Leila’s car in front of his house and handed her the keys as they walked up his lawn onto the narrow porch. His dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway yet—probably out shopping for groceries for dinner.

“This is the porch,” he said, gesturing redundantly with one arm as he jiggled the keys out of his pocket. “We don’t use it much.”

“How come?” Leila asked.

“Our next-door neighbor is quite the talker,” Hudson said, looking around the block at the cars and pickup trucks parked in open garages, the American flags drooping like undrawn curtains in the still air, the bicycles lying on the driveways in after-school abandon. “My dad and I actually missed a movie once because she insisted on filling us in on neighborhood gossip. Someone’s cousin had adopted an Asian baby, and that seemed to require a thirty-minute, slightly racist speech.” He turned to the door, having finally fished the keys out. “The true treasure of Vicksburg lies in its people.”

He turned over his shoulder to smile at her and then led them inside. They went fairly quickly around the house, living room to bathroom to kitchen. He showed her the backyard, the modest plastic patio furniture set up around the barbecue grill. The lawn was big and green, stretching out between the neighbors’ fences until it hit a line of trees. After a few moments, when the sun had all but dipped beneath the branches, Hudson led her back inside to show her the rest of the house.

The staircase was just wide enough to allow them to climb side by side. Hudson asked, “So, what are you going up north for?” He honestly didn’t really have a strong desire to know, since it would affirm that fact that she was going, possibly very soon.

“Haven’t I mentioned it? I’m going to see the Northern Lights.”

“Oh, nice,” he said, his heart dropping a little. “How far north do you have to go to see them?”

“Well, it kind of changes. I’m going up as far north as I can to give myself the best chance.”

“Wow. I’m jealous.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty excited,” she said, but her voice didn’t quite convey that excitement. “I’m just hoping that...” She trailed off.

“That what?”

“No, nothing,” she said, as they reached the landing at the top of the stairs. She held her arm out across his chest. “Wait.” She looked at the four closed doors that made up the second floor. “Let me guess.” She pointed at the door closest to them. “Master bedroom, bathroom, your room,” she said, pointing at each door from left to right. “And, I don’t think that’s another room, because you’ve got an only-child air about you, so I’m gonna say that’s the linen closet.”

“Unbelievable.”

“It’s a special gift.”

“That’s special, all right,” he said, wondering what she’d stopped herself from saying on the stairs. “How’d you know I’m an only child?”

“We can smell our own,” she said with a wink.

Once inside his room, Leila went straight to his bookshelf, where his car magazines and the novels he’d read for school and liked enough to buy a copy were neatly stacked. Her back was to him, her figure silhouetted against the fading light so that she seemed a little less real, a little less like a beautiful girl who understood him standing in his room and more like an apparition that could dissipate at any second. He flicked the light switch on but said nothing, giving her space to explore. He didn’t want her to seem like an apparition, wanted to keep her real for as long as possible.

“What’s this?” she asked, grabbing a seashell he kept on his windowsill.

He walked closer to her. “That is a souvenir from the first time I went to the ocean. I was bodysurfing, you know, just enjoying getting the crap kicked out of me by the waves. And this one wave just grabs me and beats me down against the shore. I felt my forehead catch on something hard, harder than the sand. So I grabbed at it, and it was this seashell. I think you can still see the scar.” He pulled at his hair and tilted his head down so she could see.

She lifted her hand and ran a finger along the scar on his forehead. He could hear her breathing, could smell something sweet on her breath.

“Why’d you keep the seashell?”

“I don’t know,” Hudson said. “I guess I just liked the idea of having a reminder from such a great day. I didn’t want the scar to be the only thing I got to keep.”

Leila smiled, her finger no longer at the scar but dropping down, tracing his jawline. Her lips were parted just enough for him to see a thin, glimmering line of teeth set against the pink of her tongue.

Then the garage door rumbled beneath their feet, and Hudson heard his dad’s Camaro pull into the driveway. Leila’s hand dropped away, and Hudson took an instinctive step back, immediately regretting it. He wanted to grab Leila’s hand and place it back on his cheek. Instead, he stood and listened to his dad making his way from the garage to the kitchen, feeling the moment slip away.

3

DOWNSTAIRS IN THE kitchen, Hudson’s dad was kneeling in front of the fridge, moving things around to make way for a case of soda.

“Hey, Pop,” Hudson said.

“Hey, son.” Hudson’s dad finished up in the fridge before standing and turning around. His glance went to Leila. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.” He offered a smile, then stepped around them to leave the kitchen. “Do you mind getting the grill started? I’m gonna hop in the shower.” He took a step toward the stairs, then stopped and looked back at Leila. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner, if you’d like.”

“I’d love to,” Leila said.

“Burgers okay?”

“Always,” she said. “Thank you, Mr....?”

“Call me Walter,” he said, offering his hand with a smile. Then he turned to Hudson. “You’re gonna get some rest after dinner?”

“Of course. I was planning to sleepwalk all the way to Jackson so I could be as well-rested as possible before the interview.”

“You think you’re clever, don’t you? Just because you’re going to be a doctor?”

“You think I’m clever, too, Dad. Ever since I taught you how to connect to wireless internet, you’ve considered me a genius.”

“Don’t give this one any compliments,” Walter said to Leila, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “He’ll never forget them.” He was tall, still taller than Hudson but thinner, with wiry muscles. The rest of their features they shared: the same strong jaw and big brown eyes. Hudson thought of his dad as young, or at least not yet old, so it was a shock every time he noticed just how gray his hair had turned. “All right, I’ll see you guys outside, then.”

When he was about halfway up the stairs, Leila called out, “You have a lovely home!”

“Thank you,” he called back, his voice fading as he climbed the stairs and closed his bedroom door.

“He’s so sweet,” Leila said.

“Yeah,” Hudson said, picking at a splinter on a kitchen cabinet.

“What interview do you have to be well-rested for?”

“I have this interview with the dean of admissions at Ole Miss. It’s to see if they’re going to offer me a full scholarship.”

“Wow. That’s impressive.”

Hudson shrugged. “I guess. My dad knows the guy, so he helped set up the interview, and that’s why he’s a little paranoid about it.” Not wanting to think about tomorrow, when Leila might no longer be around, Hudson moved toward the back door. “Let’s get the grill going.”

Leila nodded and helped him grab a few things from the kitchen; then they went out to the backyard to light the charcoal. The air had cooled pleasantly with the oncoming dusk, only a few streaks of orange light breaking through gaps in the trees where cicadas buzzed. It was a large yard, the grass bright green and healthy. A toolshed stood in the middle, not far off from the fire pit that Walter had dug and lined with bricks. There were a few tree stumps and camping chairs gathered around the pit in a circle, a crushed beer can forgotten in the weeds from the last time his dad’s friends had come over. Hudson wished that he had some ability to stop time, to hold the Earth’s rotation, so that he could just stand near Leila for a little while longer.

“So, a doctor, huh?”

“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal,” Hudson said. “Nothing like that seeing-through-doors trick.”

“Superpower, not a trick,” Leila corrected, grabbing a match and tossing it onto the pile of charcoal. “And I’m sure you have some powers of your own.”

“Not really.” At that moment, the only superpower he felt he had was that he could spend time with someone like Leila and have her want to stay around for dinner.

“Bullshit,” she said, giving him a friendly hip check. “Ranting,” she pointed out. “I could listen to you rant about treasures all day.”

Hudson tried and failed to keep the size of his smile under control, especially when he noticed that she was smiling back at him. “I’m also pretty damn good at setting a table,” he said, trying to draw attention away from his blushing. “I can do it with one hand. And I don’t even have to look up online which side the knife is supposed to be on.”

“I knew you were holding out on me.”

“I’ll show you,” he said, and he went about setting the table with an exaggerated care that he hoped was funny. Leila took a seat and watched him, a smile on her face. When he was done, he sat next to her as they waited for the coals to heat.

This was Hudson’s favorite time of the year, favorite time of day, favorite spot of his house. It was the first time in a while that he was sitting there without a book in front of him. He’d almost forgotten how enjoyable his backyard was when he could simply sit and look around without having to study. Leila leaned back in her patio chair and put her legs up, resting her heels on Hudson’s lap. She did it so casually that Hudson couldn’t tell just what she meant by it; if she meant anything at all or if she just needed a place to rest her feet and made no distinction between him and any other surface. Or maybe, just maybe, she was as happy to be spending time with him as he was with her.

Hudson barely moved, focusing on the weight of her feet on his lap. By the time his dad joined them outside, Hudson’s legs were falling asleep. “We were waiting for the coals to get hot,” Hudson said.

“Well, looks like they’re just about ready to go,” Walter said, even though Hudson knew very well that they’d been ready for a while. Walter grabbed the tray of patties and put three down on the grill, smiling at the satisfying sizzle of the meat beginning to cook.

“Want some help, Pop?”

“I’ve got it, thanks.”

Other fathers might have turned around and winked at their son, or smiled. But Hudson liked his dad’s reserved way of showing affection, the silent acceptance of cooking duties.

“So, Leila,” Walter asked when the burgers were ready, bringing them to the table, “Hudson tells me you’re not from Vicksburg. What brings you over here?”

“I’m zigzagging my way up the country to go see the Northern Lights,” she said.

Walter picked at the label on his beer, peeling until the corner curled away from the glass. “That’s one hell of a road trip. You’re doing it by yourself?”

“Yup.” Leila nodded.

“Well, everyone needs at least one long road trip in their lives,” Walter said. “I was probably about your age when I did mine.”

“Where’d you go?”

“California to New York. Sea to shining sea.” He kept peeling the label off, lost in thought. His dad always got that look on his face when he talked about that road trip. Hudson had asked him about it more times than he could remember, but no matter how much Walter told him, Hudson could never really get a feel for what his dad had been like back then. It was strange to think that there was a part of his dad he’d never know, two whole decades’ worth of memories that did not include Hudson.

“This kid hasn’t taken one yet,” he said, snapping out of it and motioning toward Hudson.

“What are you talking about? I’ve been with you on tons of road trips.”

“Doesn’t count,” Walter said, sipping from his beer. “On your own is what I meant. You get yourself a part-time job in college, something that won’t get in the way of your studies, and maybe you’ll save up enough to travel during the summers. And, if you really impress me with your grades”—Walter paused for effect—“I might give you a free oil change for your first trip.”

“Now I see where Hudson gets his wit,” Leila said, kicking Hudson playfully under the table.

He kicked back lightly, wishing that he was barefoot and then feeling a bit creepy for it. “Why the Northern Lights anyway?”

Leila shrugged. “It’s just something I know I have to do.”

“Life to-do list sort of thing?”

“Something like that,” Leila said.

“Is this your first road trip?” Walter asked.

Leila took another bite of her burger. God, she was attractive even when she was chewing. It made Hudson want to cook for her. She gave a slight nod.

When she was done chewing, she took a sip of her soda and wiped at the corner of her mouth with a paper napkin. “I’m on a little break from school right now and thought it was a good time for some traveling.”

Hudson nodded, then realized he had no idea what that meant. “Like, college? Did you take a year off after high school?” It was hard to tell how old she was. Between sixteen and...twenty? Maybe?

“Nope.” She took the last bite of her burger, and for a second it seemed as if she’d done that so she wouldn’t have to say anything else. Then she swallowed and said, “I’ve been stuck in kindergarten for years. This trip around the country is so I can finally learn the alphabet.”

As his dad chuckled, Leila smirked at Hudson, and he could feel her face etching itself into his memory.

“I’m kidding, Hudson. You haven’t been hanging around with a kindergartner all day.”

“No? I could have sworn I was. Only kindergartners ever laugh at my jokes.”

“I could see that,” Leila said. “And kudos for not taking the opportunity to make fun of my height. I set it up perfectly.”

Hudson shrugged. “I like how short you are,” he said, immediately grabbing a chip from the open bag in the middle of the table and munching on it as a way to keep himself from apologizing for the comment.

The sky had darkened to night, and now the only light came from the pinprick stars and the neighbors’ kitchens. But he could see Leila smiling to herself, biting her bottom lip. Then she leaned back in her chair and put her feet on his lap again.

“What are you planning to see along the way?” Walter asked, grabbing a second burger, dressing it with his usual half dozen squirts of hot sauce.

“I haven’t really planned much out. I’m just going to play it by ear, see where I end up.”

“You’ve already seen Vicksburg,” Hudson said. “It’s all downhill from here.”

Leila chuckled in a way he hadn’t heard before, a laugh that was soft and throaty and that shocked Hudson into goose bumps. “I’m sure the rest of the country will have trouble living up,” she said.

After a few minutes, Walter got up to clear the table, and when he was inside, Leila pulled her feet off Hudson.

“I guess I should let you get some rest, then,” Leila said. “You’ve got that interview.” She slipped her feet back into the flip-flops and stood up.

The joy he’d felt since meeting her was slipping away, but Hudson didn’t know what to say to stop her from leaving. He followed her as she walked to the sliding glass door that led back into the house. She didn’t open the door, though, just stood there looking at her feet as if mulling over some thought.

The lights from the kitchen turned on as his dad started cleaning up inside. Hudson could see Leila clearly again, her hands in her back pockets, a half-inch strip of skin visible between her shirt and the waistline of her shorts. Then she stepped forward and pulled him in for a hug. It was surprisingly strong, coming from someone her size, from someone he’d just met a few hours before. It felt achingly good to be pressed against her.

“It was very nice to meet you,” she said. “Good luck with everything.”

Then she planted a kiss on his cheek and walked inside. It was almost paralyzing, the kiss, the feel of her lips on his skin, the already increasing distance between them. Paralyzing enough that by the time he went into the house, Leila had already said good-bye to his dad and was at the front door. Not just at the front door but halfway out of it already. She noticed him and paused; then she waved good-bye and closed the door behind her.

He stood in the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, trying to get over the shock of seeing her leave so suddenly. When he became aware of the sound of rushing water, he noticed his dad standing at the sink doing the dishes. “Pop, need any help?”

His dad turned, the bottom of his shirt stained dark with water. “No, thanks.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be upstairs. Night.” But he didn’t move for a while, just stood there staring at the front door.