Lost Shoes

"What were you doing out there?" I asked. Outside a thick mist had settled on the lake, and a chill breeze blew in through the open slider as Brenner pulled it shut behind him.

"Nothing," he said in a guarded tone. Goose bumps were spread on his arms like Braille and his cheeks were flushed. My mind raced for a possible explanation, because clearly he was up to something. I decided to look for myself. Brenner stood in my way as I approached, but moved nonchalantly aside as I stood before him.

Visibility was poor due to the morning fog, and so were my powers of observation. We lived in a boat house, so the back porch was more like small lake-front dock, covered by a green, bristly astro-turf. A chrome-metal swimming pool hand rail rose from the water and clung to the left side of the dock, and all around the edges were cleats to which we tied our row boat when it wasn't docked inside the covered garage at the shore side section of the house. There was the usual clutter of snorkeling gear and life jackets, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. And it was too cold to go out.

I gave Brenner my best Clint Eastwood stare and was rewarded with a bug-eyed performance worthy of Rodney Dangerfield as he squirmed under my silent regard.

It was almost time to head out to the bus, so I got dressed and stuffed my backpack with a couple bologna and cheese sandwiches and a thermos of milk. I couldn't find my sneakers so I searched everywhere I might have left them, but still there was no trace.

"Brenner, have you seen my sneakers anywhere?"

"No," he said.

"Oh my God." My heart accelerated. "I'm going to miss the bus." I only had one pair of shoes, of any kind. I was lucky to have more than one pair of pants. Without shoes I couldn't go anywhere, especially for the mile walk to the bus stop.

"Well, that's too bad about your shoes," Brenner said, "but there is no sense in both of us missing the bus. I'd better go."

I let out an exasperated gasp, "Yeah, you'd better go."

A half hour later, I was still searching for the sneakers. I didn't know what to do so I went to dad's bedroom and gave him a shake. "Dad, wake up."

He grunted but didn't rouse. I gave him another shake. His eyes fluttered open and stared at me. "What the fuck are you still doing here?!"

"I, uh," I started. I searched for words that wouldn't sound so lame, but there was nothing else to say. "I lost my shoes."

"Well find them goddammit!"

"But I've been looking. They're not here."

"Well you better find them before you miss the bus."

Uh oh, here it comes. "I already have dad. Now I need a ride to school."

"For Christ's sake!" I left the room as he threw off his covers and I waited on the couch as he came out. He stood before me with no clothes on, looking at me like I had murdered his dog. I had trouble holding eye contact, but I did my best. He stepped towards me and smacked me with an open hand so hard that my head jerked to the side and hit the wall behind the couch. I swallowed hard as heat spread across my face like the feel of a hot water bottle.

"Now find your shoes. And next time you lose them, you go to school in your bare fucking feet!"

The slap should have knocked me senseless, but it had quite the opposite effect. Suddenly I knew where to find my shoes. I opened the slider and poked my head through. Just to the right they sat, soaked through by the morning mist, which by now was giving way to the late morning sun.