Lost and Found

The sun was warmly massaging James' neck as he made his way home from school. He walked his regular way home, which kissed the edge of the road, looking ahead for cars coming his way. He kicked at a small rock, pushing it along his path in as straight a line as it's awkward shape would allow. He gave it another kick in stride, missing it entirely, and stepping on it instead. His foot twisted causing him to let out a yelp of pain and causing him to tumble into the ditch by the road.

As he held onto his ankle, rubbing it methodically, a car could be heard speeding towards him. It’s wheels straddled the edge on the road that James had been standing on just seconds before, scraping gravel and spitting it into the ditch. James closed his eyes, cursing the driver for this, but also strangely grateful for his now injured foot. As he sat, he felt a flat thud on his thigh. With the sound of the car fading back into the peaceful melody of birds, he opened his eyes.

Laying beside him, as if it has always been there, was a little black book. Its cover was made of some kind of leather that covered it entirely in one piece. James lowered his hand onto it. As if in a daze, he completely forgot about the pain in his foot and could only focus on the book beside him. He could feel the warm leather underneath his palm. James picked it up and slowly opened it.

Although obviously used, it seemed to be in very good condition, aside from the stray page torn out. Every page was written on with a neat yet frantic handwriting. After a quick flip through, he returned to the first page, reading a meticulous bunch of loops and fancy letters that made up the word "Journal". Knowing he shouldn't be taking someone else's journal, he couldn't help but let his curiosity get the best of him. He stood up, brushing off some of the dirt and gravel, and rolling his foot a bit before taking a troubled step to get back up onto the road.

He walked slowly due to his injury and what he was now beginning to read. The beginning of the journal started off sharing a crazy event on their way home. It spoke of almost being hit by a car and them falling into a ditch. Detailing how angry they were at the driver for driving like some kind of lunatic so close to the author’s home. As James read on, he began to feel more and more uneasy.

As uncanny as it was, he continued to read. The journal detailed the walk home, describing how the birds sounded and noting the sound of distant cars that James felt like he was hearing as he read about them. Like watching a wreck happen, he cannot take his eyes off the pages. He even paused to sit on a nearby felled tree. He read past the part where the author sat down on a felled tree and examined their surroundings. The journal explained how they saw something, as if it had been hidden under some leaves just to the north of where they were sitting. James slowly lowered the book and looked up into the sky.

Boy scouts, actually being useful here, he read the sun and saw that north was just over his shoulder. He turned to examine where the journal explained. As he squinted, he did indeed notice something dark beneath the brown leaves. Slowly he rose from sitting, holding the book tightly against his thigh, just trying to squeeze something to hold his nerves in place. He moved closer to the now obvious pile of out of place leaves. Time slowed down as he reached into the pile of leaves. Slowly pushing them aside, revealed a black canvas bag hidden underneath. Sweat began to form on his brow as he dropped to his knees in front of the bag.

Dripping with a dread of the unknown reached for the zipper on the bag, before stopping just an inch from it, and forming a fist, shaking as if he had been shocked. He sat on his heels and raised the little book to his midsection, looking down at it hard. He opened it, as the fine paper fluttered until he reached where he left off, where the person in the journal found the bag. He wanted to know, needed to know, what was in the bag before he opened it. His stomach was turning into knots as he turned the page. But the next page held nothing. He knew that this journal was filled to the brim earlier, Where could it all have gone? He thought as he shuffled the pages seeing the rest of the book empty as well. All he could see the remnants of torn pages hiding in the spine. James let out a gasp, he couldn't believe that the pages were torn out, he had to know!

Dropping the book onto his legs, he let it slide off onto the damp leaves. He looked back to the foreboding bag, as it taunted him, telling him he couldn’t do it. James shook his head and reached again for the zipper, this time ripping it across, leaving the deafening noise ringing in his ears. His eyes were closed, but he knew it was open now. He slowly opened his eyes until he saw green, a lot of it. His eyes now fully opened, he sat in awe, his jaw slack, staring down at a bag full of money.

Not fully understanding what he was looking at, poked it to see if he was just imagining it. Sure enough he wasn’t, at least as far as he could tell, he'd never seen so much money in his life. He looked down at the journal and picked it up. His heart was racing, and he felt like he couldn't stay there. He dropped the book into the bag and zipped it back up. He took off his backpack and shoved the bag into it. His backpack swelled but he managed to zip it up.

Shakily, he made his way back to the road and walked home as fast as his injured foot allowed. After what felt like the longest 10 minutes of his life, he opened the door and slammed it, rushing to his room. He heard his mom call out to him, but he couldn't even manage to say anything. He closed the door behind him and locked it. Breathing heavily, he opened his bag and then the duffel, still enamored by the sheer amount of money inside.

He took out the book and set it on his bed stand and then turned back to the money. Slowly he counted it, delicately placing the money into the corresponding stacks based on their value. After some time, he sat back and admired the amount of money sitting before him: twenty thousand dollars. He felt elated. His parents couldn't afford to get him a car and now he had a way to do that and so much more. Although he wasn't sure how he could ever explain getting this kind of money. He rubbed his foot, which was just at a low throb now, and then stood up, placing the stacks of bills back into the bag and holding it to his chest.

Slowly, he made his way into the kitchen, where his mom was making dinner. He came up behind her, tapping her shoulder. "Mom... I found something that I don't think you'll believe," he said with a twinge of dread. She stopped what she was doing and looked back at him, rubbing her hands on a towel and giving him a curious smile.

"And what did you find?" she asked innocently. James could feel sweat breaking out across his forehead, and without a word, he opened the bag and showed his mom what was inside. Taken aback, she bumped into the counter as she gasped. "H-how did you get this James?" she asked in an unsure voice.

"I just...found it on my walk home," James said, not exactly lying but not mentioning the book that described his day to atee. Slowly, she took the bag from him and looked into it, tears beginning to well in her eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't steal this, James," she said, searching his face frantically for a response.

James retorted, "I really just found it outside... Honest!" His mom felt uneasy about the amount of money, and she wasn't sure what to do. Their family did need it.

She let out a sigh, "James, thank you for telling me, but give me some time to think." James nodded reluctantly and made his way back to his room. He felt stupid for showing his mom but he wasn't sure what else to do. He laid in bed and looked to the book on his bedside table.

James rose and grabbed the book, flipping to where the story abruptly stopped from the torn pages. Although a long shot, he grabbed himself a pen and started to write in the rest of the events up until then. A bead of sweat formed on his brow, he wiped it away before writing, After my mom weighed the options, she came to my room with the bag and gave it to me, telling me to just be careful with it. Knowing that this probably wouldn't work, he felt like it wouldn’t hurt to try. He watched the clock as the minutes rolled by at a snail's pace. Soon, there was a knock on his door, and his mom was there holding the bag. "I'm not sure where or how you got it, but I think you do deserve to keep it. Please just be careful," she said before turning around.

“I know we all need it mom, it’s not just mine.” James said happily as he closed his door. Elated, James squeezed the bag, eyeing the book. He could do a lot with something this powerful, but first, he needed a car.