Lost and Found

Evan Lu stood at the edge of the cliff and looked out over the lake and wondered, not for the first time, why he had come. Giving it deeper thought, wonder was not the right word. He was absolutely baffled. He knew deep in his heart that he was meant to be here, all day, he had felt like there was some invisible hand pushing him here. But it was still so against his nature to act with such impulsiveness. He was always a logical man. It was Emily that followed her heart. To him, his late wife’s compass was always guided by something akin to magic. It’s what drew him to her in the first place and through the short five years they were married, she had led him on innumerable adventures. Guided him and pushed him to get out of his head and see the world. She was his muse to the awe of the universe, and made him see the world in a different light. A light that stuck with him long after her light had gone out.

He had been traveling to visit his best friend Anthony. Anthony was the manager at a luxury hotel a few hours away in the States. Evan’s friend had always been there for him and was on his way across the border mere hours after he heard about the accident. “Tony, you really don’t have to come right now” Evan remembered saying, although how he remembered this was kind of a mystery. Most of that month he had spent living in a fog. Shock made you feel that way. It was like being blackout drunk. You could get things done (ordering flowers, picking a casket, making arrangements as they say), but the next day you could barely remember doing any of it. Like someone else was pulling the strings. He supposed it was the mind’s way of maintaining sanity. That if you leaned hard into grief that early on, you might never come back. “There’s really nothing to be done. The funeral won’t be for another week or so and you have your job…” “Evan, man” he interrupted “Fuck the job, it doesn’t matter. I want to…I need to be there. Not in a week, not tomorrow, today. I know there’s a lot happening right now, but I want to be there beside you. Emily was like a sister to me and it’s really the least I can do. Please.” Thinking back, he didn’t know how he could have gone through that week without him. He was his light through the fog of grief. He had wanted to tell his friend then, that he was going to be a father, but he couldn’t. Emily was pregnant at the time of the accident and only he had known. They had known it was going to be a girl and had settled on the name, Moira. When Emily and Moira had died, his future had died too. He hadn’t told anyone because after her death it felt like one of the only things left that was still theirs and no one else’s.

So, there he was. Back in the USA and less than an hour away from his destination. The day was stupid hot, and he could see a shimmer of heat rising from the asphalt ahead of him like a ghost. Joni Mitchell was on the radio singing about being held captive on the carousel of time. And all of a sudden he remembered a hike Em and him had done three summers ago in Montana. The short hike had ended at a beautiful alpine lake, nestled in the mountains. They had had their lunch at that very spot and shared one of the best kisses they had had in their relationship. It was a powerful memory. He could almost smell the pine and hear the wind in the trees. All at once, some deeper part of him, took control and before he could bring himself around he had taken a turn and was heading there. He knew that he needed to be there as fast as he could. He called Tony and left a voice mail explaining that he might be held up, might even be a day late, and then pushed his foot down a little harder on the gas pedal.

A bench was planted a few feet back from the edge of the cliff. That’s a new addition, he thought. The inscription read To Emma and Don Thompson. Who loved the mountains for their power and stillness, the water for its playfulness and serenity, and the trees for their kindness and patience. Those who walk in nature, walk with God, and those who walk with God, live their destiny. Destiny. That felt right, sure. He sat down on the bench and took a moment to breathe it all in. The view was spectacular. The mid afternoon heat had subsided and a cool breeze brushed against his skin. Light played off the rock face of the mountain to his left and reflected in the waters of the lake. It danced in radiant iridescence. Hues of purple and gold and white. He could see a family of ducks on the lake bobbing up and down, fishing for whatever lay in the mud near the shore. Lucky ducks, to have such a home as this, he thought. He lifted his eyes past the peak of the mountains and thought of Emily. “Here’s to you Love, I hope you lived your destiny.” Then, without warning, he wept. It was the first time in over a year the grief had hit him this hard and it washed over him with such violence it momentarily broke his spirit. He bent, hugging his knees and wailing with large heaving sobs. When the worst of it had passed, he opened his eyes, and that’s when he saw it. Someone had duct taped something to the bottom of the bench. He wiped his eyes and turned until he was kneeling on the ground looking under the bench. It was a book.

All sorrow abated, he pulled the book from the tape and held it in his hands, sitting back on the ground to inspect it further. It was a small, black, leather bound Moleskine journal. He opened to the first page and read:

Hello traveler! It’s so nice to meet you! You have found more than you bargained for I imagine. You may not believe in these kind of things, but the reason you are reading this right now is because you were meant to find this. How do I know? Because there was a force greater than me, that compelled me to write this. That same force has compelled me to place this book here, as well. And that same force has selected you to be the reader. That force is Fate and it is a power beyond all power. The Greeks believed not even the Gods could escape it. To them, the holders of fate were the Moiri.

The name made him think of Moira, and he shivered.

The Moiri pulled the strings of fate that determined the life of every single being - God, mortal, or Titan. No one could escape a death, and no one could escape their destiny. What was to be, was to be. It was fate you found me. And I feel compelled to give you something. Think of it, not as my gift to you, but my way to honor the Fates. I trust this power. I trust it so blindly, that I do not think, I just do.

There are a set of coordinates in the back of this book. If you go there, you will find a house by the river. This is my old home. I won’t be there to greet you, however. My days are coming to an end. I have cancer you see and alas, I am dying. When you get there, take a shovel and walk to the back of the house. Look North and you will see a rather large oak tree, standing on its own. At the foot of the tree, is a small monument. It looks like a small white pillar. Walk ten paces east and begin to dig. About 3 feet down, you will find a small box and inside that box is $20,000. I want you to have it.

At this, Evan pulled in a sharp breath of surprise, and looked around even though he had seen no one on his hike up here, and there were no other cars parked in the parking lot.

The rest of these pages are for you to fill. Fill them with your observations, your joys, your woes, and your thoughts. Trust me. Life is fleeting and it feels good to have something written down that stays after you’re gone. The money is yours to do what you want with. That isn’t the important part for me. It’s only the place where our destinies meet. I feel like you have lost a great deal. Though there is no way to know that for sure, I know it all the same. This is your chance to find something. All the best to you traveler. Know that this life is beautiful, and difficult. It’s about that balance. You are meant to be where you are, and with that comes a little bit of peace.

- SMG

Evan flipped to the back to the book. Inside the back cover, at the bottom of the last page lay these coordinates:

45° 31’ 49’’ N 139° 34’ 16’’ W

A whirlwind of feelings ripped through his head at that moment. Could this be real? Is this some kind of joke? Although in his heart he already knew the answer. This was real. Someone had left him a lot of money. Someone he had never met.

He hiked back to the car clutching the small black book in his hand. He couldn’t bring himself to put the book in his backpack. He needed to feel it in his hands. Once he got into his car he looked up the coordinates on Google Earth, he was lucky enough to have a few bars of service. The satellite image displayed a Victorian style house… with a large tree on the property. Better yet, it was very close by. Only about a forty-five minute drive from where he was. He put the car into drive and got back on the highway. The small black book, resting safely on the passenger seat.

The house was abandoned, but he knocked on the front door anyways. There was no answer. Evan looked through the trunk of his car and found a small shovel. He always had it back there in the rare chance he got stuck in the snow and needed to dig himself out. He walked to the tree and was unsurprised to see the small white monument. He walked ten paces east and stared at the ground. Was this even the right spot? He began to dig. Thinking all the while how strange a day it had been. About 30 minutes later, he found it. A small rectangular tin. The kind that at some point might have held cookies for grandchildren. He opened it and found a note, and a large bundle of cash. He didn’t need to count it to know it was all there. The note read:

To you, my distant companion in the arms of fate.

Let this gift give you a little of what you may have lost along the way.

Evan decided then he would begin to let go. He would tell everyone he would have been a father. He would let himself be comforted. He had lost a lot along the way. But with the help of a stranger and a force far beyond his control and understanding, he had found something else. Hope.