a cat. Hey, pets! Can pets be Lost?” Luke looks more interested in the answer to this question than he did about the answers to his missing father.
I laugh. “Sorry, no. At least, not as far as I know.”
He looks almost crestfallen. “I was hoping my dog that ran away when I was twelve didn’t really run away.”
“Who are you?” Meli suddenly bursts out. I’m so impolite I forgot to introduce Luke to the rest of my strange little family.
“Sorry, Meli! Luke, this is Amelia and her husband, Will. This is Luke Dawes.” Will does the same fork bow to Luke that he did to me as a greeting, but Meli shakes his hand warmly.
“You know who we are? What we are?” she marvels.
“I know,” I smile, grimly. “He doesn’t look like someone who builds time machines in his mother’s basement, does he?”
“Is she always this strange?” Luke mock whispers to Meli, who giggles. “Half the time I don’t know what she’s talking about. So, are you saying you’ve never had a pet?”
I don’t know when I ever said any such thing, but Luke is right, of course. I don’t know any Lost who has a pet.
“Well, I don’t really have what it takes to commit to an animal,” I respond, drily. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not very reliable.”
“That’s terrible. Every kid should have a dog, or a kitten, or a tarantula or something. I had a fish.”
“And a dog,” I remind him.
“Yes, Munkles.”
“Maybe he ran away because he was embarrassed of his name,” I suggest, stifling a laugh. Luke glares at me, but his eyes are twinkling with good nature.
“I should go. I told my mother I would stop by and see her newest painting.” Luke stands up and collects my empty plate with his. I follow him into the kitchen.
“Your mother is a painter?” I ask with interest.
“At the moment. Last month she was a sculptor. Luckily, my stepdad makes a lot of money so he can afford her artistic pursuits. We’re all just happy she’s off her violin phase; that was incredibly painful.”
“I imagine. When I started teaching myself the guitar it was a little painful as well. It belongs to Micki, so I can only practice at the shop.”
“Will you miss it?” He asks. He has already jumped to the correct conclusion that the guitar, just like a pet, won’t travel with me.
I shrug, trying not to think about it. “It’s only wood and strings. I’ve left more.”
Luke winks at me. “I knew it. I’m watching you, Gray. See you around.”
And with those parting words, he is gone, leaving me alone in the kitchen with nothing but a sweet potato pie to keep me company.
********************
In spite of feeling tired and taking a Nightfall pill, I am unable to fall asleep. After putting on my white nightgown, I sit on the window seat in my bedroom, staring out the window. Penny gave me a portable compact disk player and several compact disks when she upgraded to an Ipod; I find the whole thing amazing and mind boggling and modern although Penny laughingly assured me it is nothing but a dinosaur. Besides the music selection Penny gave me, I have checked out a whole stack of disks at the library and right now I am listening to a band called Air Supply. I cross my legs under my nightgown and turn up the volume as I watch the Blue Beast finally pull up to the curb below my window. I see Israel get out of his car and walk slowly, as if he is tired, up our crooked steps to the front door. I glance at the glowing time on my alarm clock: 11:47. Someday we will lose Israel. Of all of us here in our house, he is the most disconnected at times. He stays out late and sometimes I don’t think he comes home at all. I’m scared that it’s only a matter of time before we lose him. I wish he would only be as attached to us as we all are to him, but I think that a solitary life has hardened him sometimes. It’s as though he has already said his goodbyes ahead of time. But me, I can’t. He keeps me grounded and secure and safe. He is a huge part of my home, the home that is a part of my soul and not just a town or