I’d heard many stories about the legendary lost and found, but hadn’t seen its magic for myself until a couple of weeks ago. It had been at Spruce Hill High for so long, students often wondered when it would fall apart. I worried I wouldn’t get my chance in time. At my last school I lost something almost every week, but I’d somehow gone a year there without misplacing a single thing. My mom thought I’d really changed, but I knew it was more than that. It was almost as if the lost and found didn’t want me to witness its sorcery until the right time. Of course the first time I lost something, that decaying shed didn’t make it easy on me.
The lost and found was a tall rust-colored shed that leaned heavily to the left, resting against an unraveling chain-link fence. It had aged over the years, so one door always hung slightly ajar. The grass around it was tall and wild; nobody bothered to take care of the land behind the school buildings. The roof was made of dark brown shingles, weathered from many years of rain.
But this was no normal lost and found. Lost things always made their way to the secluded structure, despite the fact that nobody ever brought anything there. If you lost something at Spruce Hill, all that was required to get it back was a short walk to the back of campus, and a quick rummage to find your favorite pen, or your notes for the math test on Friday. And whatever you retrieved from the lost and found always seemed to have a slight magical quality to it. Your favorite pen never ran out of ink, or you somehow aced your math test despite not having studied. When students had first realized the power of the lost and found, there were a hectic few weeks where everyone was attempting to lose everything they owned. But they eventually discovered, to their dismay, that the magic worked only when the losing was unintentional.
I’m not sure how, but I lost my favorite sneakers. I was in the locker room, and I’d taken them off to change into my P.E. clothes. Pulling on my exercise leggings, I turned around, only to find that they were gone. I felt my eyes water and was glad to be alone in the locker room, so nobody would see me cry. My brother had given me those sneakers as a birthday present two years ago. Ever since he died I’d felt as though I were floating through space, and those shoes had been solid, keeping my feet on the ground. A reminder that he was once here, and he loved me. Where were they? But then it came to me. I wiped my eyes and went to explain to my gym teacher. After a few minutes of trying to explain how I knew they had traveled across campus, she let me borrow her shoes and trudge across the quad to the shed. Unfortunately for me, it was raining heavily, but I kept going, motivated by my longing for the comfort only my brother could provide. As I walked, I wondered what the lost and found had done to my sneakers. Would they be magically spotless, like they were straight from the box? Would they have become indestructible, so I could hold him with me forever? As I wandered toward the back of campus, I caught a glimpse of the lost and found.
The door was blown open, not slightly like it normally was, but wide, and it was swinging wildly in the wind. Confused, I walked slowly toward the lost and found, careful not to get in the path of the door. As I approached, it started to shake, and I jumped back. Somehow, nobody seemed to notice the racket as water bottles, jackets, binders, and even an entire cake were flung to the ground. My jaw dropped, and then, because that wasn’t strange enough, the lost and found itself started to fall apart. The shingles fell to the ground and turned into dust in front of my eyes. Then the walls came down with a crash, and evaporated into thin air. Finally, the roof and floor melted into the dirt, leaving only a flattened patch of grass in their wake.
And just like that, it was gone. The beloved and reliable lost and found, destroyed in seconds. I almost felt my tears return because the only thing I wanted wasn’t there. But the lost and found had a last gift. I looked down to see my shoes right in front of me, just as they were ten minutes ago. So they weren’t magical, but I almost preferred them the way they had always been. As I processed what had just happened, I realized that the ground was now littered with everyone’s belongings. One last message from the lost and found to me, a loser in more ways than one. It was now my job to carry on the work of the lost and found and return these things to their owners, because I knew if I could lessen even a bit of hurt for someone else, it would all be worth it.
The lost and found was a tall rust-colored shed that leaned heavily to the left, resting against an unraveling chain-link fence. It had aged over the years, so one door always hung slightly ajar. The grass around it was tall and wild; nobody bothered to take care of the land behind the school buildings. The roof was made of dark brown shingles, weathered from many years of rain.
But this was no normal lost and found. Lost things always made their way to the secluded structure, despite the fact that nobody ever brought anything there. If you lost something at Spruce Hill, all that was required to get it back was a short walk to the back of campus, and a quick rummage to find your favorite pen, or your notes for the math test on Friday. And whatever you retrieved from the lost and found always seemed to have a slight magical quality to it. Your favorite pen never ran out of ink, or you somehow aced your math test despite not having studied. When students had first realized the power of the lost and found, there were a hectic few weeks where everyone was attempting to lose everything they owned. But they eventually discovered, to their dismay, that the magic worked only when the losing was unintentional.
I’m not sure how, but I lost my favorite sneakers. I was in the locker room, and I’d taken them off to change into my P.E. clothes. Pulling on my exercise leggings, I turned around, only to find that they were gone. I felt my eyes water and was glad to be alone in the locker room, so nobody would see me cry. My brother had given me those sneakers as a birthday present two years ago. Ever since he died I’d felt as though I were floating through space, and those shoes had been solid, keeping my feet on the ground. A reminder that he was once here, and he loved me. Where were they? But then it came to me. I wiped my eyes and went to explain to my gym teacher. After a few minutes of trying to explain how I knew they had traveled across campus, she let me borrow her shoes and trudge across the quad to the shed. Unfortunately for me, it was raining heavily, but I kept going, motivated by my longing for the comfort only my brother could provide. As I walked, I wondered what the lost and found had done to my sneakers. Would they be magically spotless, like they were straight from the box? Would they have become indestructible, so I could hold him with me forever? As I wandered toward the back of campus, I caught a glimpse of the lost and found.
The door was blown open, not slightly like it normally was, but wide, and it was swinging wildly in the wind. Confused, I walked slowly toward the lost and found, careful not to get in the path of the door. As I approached, it started to shake, and I jumped back. Somehow, nobody seemed to notice the racket as water bottles, jackets, binders, and even an entire cake were flung to the ground. My jaw dropped, and then, because that wasn’t strange enough, the lost and found itself started to fall apart. The shingles fell to the ground and turned into dust in front of my eyes. Then the walls came down with a crash, and evaporated into thin air. Finally, the roof and floor melted into the dirt, leaving only a flattened patch of grass in their wake.
And just like that, it was gone. The beloved and reliable lost and found, destroyed in seconds. I almost felt my tears return because the only thing I wanted wasn’t there. But the lost and found had a last gift. I looked down to see my shoes right in front of me, just as they were ten minutes ago. So they weren’t magical, but I almost preferred them the way they had always been. As I processed what had just happened, I realized that the ground was now littered with everyone’s belongings. One last message from the lost and found to me, a loser in more ways than one. It was now my job to carry on the work of the lost and found and return these things to their owners, because I knew if I could lessen even a bit of hurt for someone else, it would all be worth it.