Lost and Found
by Jack Kendle
Chapter 8
I woke up very early the next morning, about 5:30 am. For me, the downside of going early to bed is that I wake early. I never seem able to sleep in. Hannah was asleep beside me. I hadn't heard her come in. I again wondered briefly about the office crisis as I watched her sleep... Hannah was a very organised person, it would have to be a very big deal if she had to go in to work so late on a Friday. I would ask her about it when she woke. No more sleep for me. My mind was already racing, thinking about Leo and the day ahead. I decided I would go for an early-morning run, both to pass the time and to enjoy the peace of the early morning in the sunshine outside. I'm not much of an exerciser, but sometimes a brisk early-morning run feels so good. It was also a time when I could turn off and let my mind sort out any problems I was having with a composition in progress. This was just such a time, I wanted to think through how my piece was going and how I
was going to end it. I slipped out of bed, took a pee and changed into my running gear.
Outside, it was a cool, crisp early autumn morning. The leaves hadn't turned yet, but I knew it was just a matter of days before the greens became various hues of orange, red and yellow in that glorious rainbow time of year. The sun slanted through the branches as I set out on my three-mile run. I suppose jog would be a better word, I certainly wasn't one to break any world speed records! The scent of damp earth reached my nostrils. It doesn't get much better than this, I thought, before realising that the only way it would be perfect was that if I were jogging in the early-morning sunshine and dew-spangled grass with my lover, Leo beside me. Sighing, I started to increase speed. Even without Leo beside me, it was a lovely morning. I began to think through my music as I ran.
Gradually, as I jogged, I made out the figure of another runner ahead of me. What caught my attention was the copper coloured head of hair which caught the sun's rays as the runner ran through the trees. Even from this distance, it really was an extraordinary burnished copper. I couldn't make out much of the runner except that I was sure by the way it ran, that it was a 'he'. I even toyed with the idea of increasing my pace, to try and catch up with him, but thought: What for? It's probably only another middle-aged loser like me. It isn't Leo, so why bother? Actually, without increasing my pace, I noticed the distance between us was gradually diminishing. Old carrot-head is tiring, I thought. I was approaching the spot where the local authorities had set up parallel bars and benches for push-ups and stomach crunches, in a small clearing in the woodland. I needed the break, so decided that was another factor against my trying to catch up with
the runner ahead. So I maintained my pace and tried to put the other guy out of my mind. Things must be desperate if you're prepared to bust a gut just to catch up with another guy you have no idea what he looks like, I thought. My mind returned to my musical problems as I continued jogging towards the rest-area.
As I rounded the bend at the clearing, I was surprised out of my musings by the copper-haired figure who had had the same idea as I. He (I could see now, it definitely was a 'he') was standing at the parallel bars, slowly stretching his legs. I slowed to a walk as I observed him. He hadn't heard me arrive. He was wearing a blue sleeveless runners' vest with the number 69 in large yellow letters on it. My filthy mind immediately summoned up doing a 69er with someone like him! His very short, almost obscenely short, faded blue running shorts clung to him, giving me a wonderful view of the most beautiful butt... almost rivalling Leo's! Not a bubble-butt, it was nonetheless firm and rode above two very well developed legs, which seemed to go on for ever before disappearing into some very scruffy running-shoes. He was facing away from me as he stretched his legs alternating right and left. His calves were extremely well-defined and his thighs seemed
to be pure muscle. His arms, too, had great sets of bi- and triceps on them. This guy really took care of himself! I watched as his back rippled as he stretched. The back of his shorts rode up, high on his thighs, exposing the fact he was wearing a jockstrap. This was one serious hunk! I couldn't go on observing him for ever in silence, I would have to make my presence known, otherwise, if he did catch sight of me ogling him, he'd know me for the perv I was and probably beat me up! I made a noise as if I had just run full-tilt into the clearing. It probably wouldn't have fooled anyone, but anyway, he turned round at the noise.
I pretended to act surprised.
"Oh. I didn't expect anyone else to be up so early!" I said. I really was the lamest at opening lines!
"Weather's too good to stay in bed," he replied in a rich warm voice, which reminded me of his hair, molten copper.
"Sure is," I agreed. "Do you come here often?" Shit. I could have kicked myself. How lame is that for God's sake??
The man's eyes twinkled and he seemed to be amused. He had every right to be amused, I thought. What a nerd I was being!
"Well, no, actually," he said, "It's been a long time since I did this run. I used to live here as a boy and have only just moved back into the area."
" I thought I hadn't seen you before," I continued. It seemed I was destined to be the twit to rival all twits this morning. Close to, he seemed to be about early twenties. Apart from his amazingly distinctive copper-coloured hair, he had the most awesome body and his hazel eyes seemed to regard me with genuine charm. This guy was hot.
"How about you?" he asked. I looked blankly at him. I must have appeared as some unbelievable retard to him.
"Me?" I asked, completely losing the plot.
"Do you come here often?" he asked, echoing my own clumsy question.
"Er, no. I suppose not," I almost stammered for God's sake! "I'm not much of an athlete."
I felt his eyes roam over my body. "Oh, I dunno, there's hope for you yet." He regarded me with that warm humorous twinkle in his eyes. I could feel myself beginning to blush.
"You'd better do some stretches," he said, breaking the awkward silence, "otherwise you'll stiffen up. And we wouldn't want that now, would we?" I looked again at him. Was he taking the piss? Or was he just feeling sorry for the dimwit who had interrupted his early morning run? I went over to join him at the bars. I could smell his muskiness, and close up his body was even more spectacular. I averted my eyes as I began to stretch my legs.
"Name's Jerry. Jerry Johnston. Known to some as JJ." He offered his hand.
"Jack Kendle," I replied as I took his hand. His grip was firm and despite having been running, his palm was quite dry. Mine was not.
"So, what do you do, Jack? - if you don't mind me asking."
"Not at all," I replied. "I'm a musician and a teacher. You?"
"Botanist," came the short reply.
"A botanist?" I said, despite myself. "But I thought they were..." I floundered, stopping myself before I went on to say what I had been thinking, that botanists were in my mind tweedy old men with magnifying glasses and butterfly nets.
Jeremy regarded me with that ever-present twinkle. "You thought I'd be some old geezer puffing on a pipe and sticking dried leaves on to cardboard in some musty museum. Am I right?"
I blushed again. For some reason or other my mind seemed feeble. I don't know what he must have thought of me.
"If we follow that reasoning, then a musician is a wild grey-haired eccentric who stomps around waving his arms and singing to himself!" I stared at him. Slowly I got the joke and allowed myself to smile.
"Er, spoze," I managed, grinning now.
"So, neither of us seems to fit the preconceptions of our professions," he added. He was now candidly observing me. I felt a little uncomfortable, as if I were being somehow judged and found wanting.
"Actually, I specialise in pests," he continued. "Bit like you really. You're a teacher, you specialise in pests too! But mine usually have six legs, wings and an annoying habit of destroying everything in their path. What do your pests do?" By now, my fuddled brain had caught up with this guy's humour. I laughed along with him.
"Only two legs, no wings, but the capacity to reduce grown-ups to gibbering states of lunacy within half an hour!" came my reply. I was beginning to feel more at ease and enjoying this young man's company.
"So we have something in common," he chuckled.
"I guess!" I looked over at him. He was regarding me almost as if I were a specimen of his. I felt a little ill-at-ease under his gaze.
"You have a family?" He had obviously noticed the wedding ring I was wearing. He had no ring, I noticed.
"Guilty as charged. Wife and two kids, one of each," I said, trying to sound lighthearted. He continued to look at me and it seemed as if a small cloud passed over his eyes. Before I had time to really register it, the look had gone, replaced by his smiling candid gaze again.
"You?" I asked, nevertheless.
"Still haven't found the right... person," he said almost wistfully. I noticed the slight pause before he said "person" and it now seemed his turn to be uncomfortable.
"Live round here?" I asked. Yet another Brain of the Century question.
"Yeah, not far. We live up at the top of Leith Hill." I knew the area. The houses there were enormous. This guy and his family had to be wealthy to be able to afford to live there.
"It was my grandparents' house," he went on, as if reading my thoughts. "My mother's parents. They had the money to live there. They built that house way back. They passed away fairly recently and left the house to my mother. She was born there. We moved back, my mother, brother and I. I'd got a job at the local University, a really good job, which I couldn't refuse, so we decided to make the move. We've converted the old house into two, so I have a self-contained part. Bit too old to be still living with Mother!"
I glanced sharply at him, noting the slight wryness in his tone.
"It's convenient," he said simply. "No rent, no hassle and someone to do my washing now and again." I'm sure he didn't mean that last bit. He seemed a capable young man.
"Sounds like the best of all possible worlds," I replied.
"Yeah, it's fine. Don't know many people round here yet, though, so no wild socialising yet." Again, it seemed as if he spoke with regret.
"Well, we've met now, Jerry," I countered. "We should become friends." My mouth spoke before my brain had thought. It sounded to me like some awful pick-up line in a third rate Nifty story. However Jerry didn't seem to notice my gaucheness. Instead he looked at me, almost through me and replied, "Yeah, that would be nice, Jack. And, please, it's JJ."
"OK, JJ it is," I said. There was a silence, which stretched out as I tried to find something remotely interesting to say. Instead of which, I blurted out, "Well, I had better be going. Busy day. See you around!" JJ looked a little taken aback, but all the same, stretched out his large muscular hand and, shaking mine said, "Sure, Jack. See ya."
I started off and about fifteen seconds later, I realised I hadn't given him my address nor asked for his. Bright move! How would we meet again if I didn't know where the hell he lived. It was too late to turn in my tracks and correct the error. It would have been too lame and too... gay. I just swore loudly.
"Fucking typical! Meet a fucking drop-dead gorgeous half naked guy in the woods and don't even get his fucking number!!!"
I was furious with myself, the lame, dim front I had presented to JJ. He must really think I am such a fucking loser!!! I didn't dare turn round to see if he was still at the clearing. Yet another opportunity gone to waste. I swore to myself all the way home.
I got in, went straight to the shower and began soaping up. Yet another hardon! This was becoming a regular occurrence, jacking off to some fantasy. I pictured JJ's awesome body and his tight shorts which had barely concealed a very prodigious package. Another one that got away. My trouble is, I don't think. I just turn into some bloody dribbling idiot. Dammit! I thought as I stroked my raging hardon.
Some time later, I emerged from the shower, having to some extent got the anger and frustration not to mention jism, out of my system. At least I would be seeing Leo in a couple of hours. That made me feel slightly better. Hannah had got up and I smelt coffee from the kitchen. I went downstairs. Hannah looked up at me. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked from over the top of the newspaper.
"Went to bed early, so woke up early," I replied pouring myself some coffee. "What was the crisis at the office, then?" There was silence from behind the paper, then, "Oh, just some figures that some idiot of a temp had inputted wrong," replied Hannah. "They get dimmer by the year, these young girls." Somehow I got the feeling that was not the whole story, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
"Late night?" I asked. "Sorry I didn't wait up for you, I was exhausted yesterday."
"Okay," she replied. Did I imagine it, or was she relieved that I hadn't waited up for her? "Yes, I'm afraid it was late. I meant to call you, but then it got so late..." she disappeared behind the newspaper again. Suddenly the thought popped into my mind: was Hannah being totally straight with me? Was it really just a long night crunching numbers, or was there something else going on? Rubbish! This was Hannah, stable, secure, boring Mrs Perfection-Hannah. I dismissed the thought as quickly as it appeared – after all I wasn't being totally straight with her, in any sense of the word. I took my coffee to the table and we shared the paper together until it was time for me to leave for school and my first meeting with young Daniel.
"Don't forget Tommy's soccer match," Hannah reminded me.
"I'll be there," I replied as I took my music and left for school.
On the way I went over again my encounter with JJ. How could I have been such an idiot? I resolved to go jogging again next morning, in the vain hope that he might be there again. In fact, I thought, I would go jogging every bloody morning until I struck gold again, or rather, copper.
With that thought in my head, I went to the music room. As I turned into the hallway, I stopped dead in my tracks. There was that copper-coloured head of hair again! But it wasn't JJ.
This was someone quite else.
CHAPTER 8
I woke up very early the next morning, about 5:30 am. For me, the downside of going early to bed is that I wake early. I never seem able to sleep in. Hannah was asleep beside me. I hadn't heard her come in. I again wondered briefly about the office crisis as I watched her sleep... Hannah was a very organised person, it would have to be a very big deal if she had to go in to work so late on a Friday. I would ask her about it when she woke. No more sleep for me. My mind was already racing, thinking about Leo and the day ahead. I decided I would go for an early-morning run, both to pass the time and to enjoy the peace of the early morning in the sunshine outside. I'm not much of an exerciser, but sometimes a brisk early-morning run feels so good. It was also a time when I could turn off and let my mind sort out any problems I was having with a composition in progress. This was just such a time, I wanted to think through how my piece was going and how I
was going to end it. I slipped out of bed, took a pee and changed into my running gear.
Outside, it was a cool, crisp early autumn morning. The leaves hadn't turned yet, but I knew it was just a matter of days before the greens became various hues of orange, red and yellow in that glorious rainbow time of year. The sun slanted through the branches as I set out on my three-mile run. I suppose jog would be a better word, I certainly wasn't one to break any world speed records! The scent of damp earth reached my nostrils. It doesn't get much better than this, I thought, before realising that the only way it would be perfect was that if I were jogging in the early-morning sunshine and dew-spangled grass with my lover, Leo beside me. Sighing, I started to increase speed. Even without Leo beside me, it was a lovely morning. I began to think through my music as I ran.
Gradually, as I jogged, I made out the figure of another runner ahead of me. What caught my attention was the copper coloured head of hair which caught the sun's rays as the runner ran through the trees. Even from this distance, it really was an extraordinary burnished copper. I couldn't make out much of the runner except that I was sure by the way it ran, that it was a 'he'. I even toyed with the idea of increasing my pace, to try and catch up with him, but thought: What for? It's probably only another middle-aged loser like me. It isn't Leo, so why bother? Actually, without increasing my pace, I noticed the distance between us was gradually diminishing. Old carrot-head is tiring, I thought. I was approaching the spot where the local authorities had set up parallel bars and benches for push-ups and stomach crunches, in a small clearing in the woodland. I needed the break, so decided that was another factor against my trying to catch up with
the runner ahead. So I maintained my pace and tried to put the other guy out of my mind. Things must be desperate if you're prepared to bust a gut just to catch up with another guy you have no idea what he looks like, I thought. My mind returned to my musical problems as I continued jogging towards the rest-area.
As I rounded the bend at the clearing, I was surprised out of my musings by the copper-haired figure who had had the same idea as I. He (I could see now, it definitely was a 'he') was standing at the parallel bars, slowly stretching his legs. I slowed to a walk as I observed him. He hadn't heard me arrive. He was wearing a blue sleeveless runners' vest with the number 69 in large yellow letters on it. My filthy mind immediately summoned up doing a 69er with someone like him! His very short, almost obscenely short, faded blue running shorts clung to him, giving me a wonderful view of the most beautiful butt... almost rivalling Leo's! Not a bubble-butt, it was nonetheless firm and rode above two very well developed legs, which seemed to go on for ever before disappearing into some very scruffy running-shoes. He was facing away from me as he stretched his legs alternating right and left. His calves were extremely well-defined and his thighs seemed
to be pure muscle. His arms, too, had great sets of bi- and triceps on them. This guy really took care of himself! I watched as his back rippled as he stretched. The back of his shorts rode up, high on his thighs, exposing the fact he was wearing a jockstrap. This was one serious hunk! I couldn't go on observing him for ever in silence, I would have to make my presence known, otherwise, if he did catch sight of me ogling him, he'd know me for the perv I was and probably beat me up! I made a noise as if I had just run full-tilt into the clearing. It probably wouldn't have fooled anyone, but anyway, he turned round at the noise.
I pretended to act surprised.
"Oh. I didn't expect anyone else to be up so early!" I said. I really was the lamest at opening lines!
"Weather's too good to stay in bed," he replied in a rich warm voice, which reminded me of his hair, molten copper.
"Sure is," I agreed. "Do you come here often?" Shit. I could have kicked myself. How lame is that for God's sake??
The man's eyes twinkled and he seemed to be amused. He had every right to be amused, I thought. What a nerd I was being!
"Well, no, actually," he said, "It's been a long time since I did this run. I used to live here as a boy and have only just moved back into the area."
" I thought I hadn't seen you before," I continued. It seemed I was destined to be the twit to rival all twits this morning. Close to, he seemed to be about early twenties. Apart from his amazingly distinctive copper-coloured hair, he had the most awesome body and his hazel eyes seemed to regard me with genuine charm. This guy was hot.
"How about you?" he asked. I looked blankly at him. I must have appeared as some unbelievable retard to him.
"Me?" I asked, completely losing the plot.
"Do you come here often?" he asked, echoing my own clumsy question.
"Er, no. I suppose not," I almost stammered for God's sake! "I'm not much of an athlete."
I felt his eyes roam over my body. "Oh, I dunno, there's hope for you yet." He regarded me with that warm humorous twinkle in his eyes. I could feel myself beginning to blush.
"You'd better do some stretches," he said, breaking the awkward silence, "otherwise you'll stiffen up. And we wouldn't want that now, would we?" I looked again at him. Was he taking the piss? Or was he just feeling sorry for the dimwit who had interrupted his early morning run? I went over to join him at the bars. I could smell his muskiness, and close up his body was even more spectacular. I averted my eyes as I began to stretch my legs.
"Name's Jerry. Jerry Johnston. Known to some as JJ." He offered his hand.
"Jack Kendle," I replied as I took his hand. His grip was firm and despite having been running, his palm was quite dry. Mine was not.
"So, what do you do, Jack? - if you don't mind me asking."
"Not at all," I replied. "I'm a musician and a teacher. You?"
"Botanist," came the short reply.
"A botanist?" I said, despite myself. "But I thought they were..." I floundered, stopping myself before I went on to say what I had been thinking, that botanists were in my mind tweedy old men with magnifying glasses and butterfly nets.
Jeremy regarded me with that ever-present twinkle. "You thought I'd be some old geezer puffing on a pipe and sticking dried leaves on to cardboard in some musty museum. Am I right?"
I blushed again. For some reason or other my mind seemed feeble. I don't know what he must have thought of me.
"If we follow that reasoning, then a musician is a wild grey-haired eccentric who stomps around waving his arms and singing to himself!" I stared at him. Slowly I got the joke and allowed myself to smile.
"Er, spoze," I managed, grinning now.
"So, neither of us seems to fit the preconceptions of our professions," he added. He was now candidly observing me. I felt a little uncomfortable, as if I were being somehow judged and found wanting.
"Actually, I specialise in pests," he continued. "Bit like you really. You're a teacher, you specialise in pests too! But mine usually have six legs, wings and an annoying habit of destroying everything in their path. What do your pests do?" By now, my fuddled brain had caught up with this guy's humour. I laughed along with him.
"Only two legs, no wings, but the capacity to reduce grown-ups to gibbering states of lunacy within half an hour!" came my reply. I was beginning to feel more at ease and enjoying this young man's company.
"So we have something in common," he chuckled.
"I guess!" I looked over at him. He was regarding me almost as if I were a specimen of his. I felt a little ill-at-ease under his gaze.
"You have a family?" He had obviously noticed the wedding ring I was wearing. He had no ring, I noticed.
"Guilty as charged. Wife and two kids, one of each," I said, trying to sound lighthearted. He continued to look at me and it seemed as if a small cloud passed over his eyes. Before I had time to really register it, the look had gone, replaced by his smiling candid gaze again.
"You?" I asked, nevertheless.
"Still haven't found the right... person," he said almost wistfully. I noticed the slight pause before he said "person" and it now seemed his turn to be uncomfortable.
"Live round here?" I asked. Yet another Brain of the Century question.
"Yeah, not far. We live up at the top of Leith Hill." I knew the area. The houses there were enormous. This guy and his family had to be wealthy to be able to afford to live there.
"It was my grandparents' house," he went on, as if reading my thoughts. "My mother's parents. They had the money to live there. They built that house way back. They passed away fairly recently and left the house to my mother. She was born there. We moved back, my mother, brother and I. I'd got a job at the local University, a really good job, which I couldn't refuse, so we decided to make the move. We've converted the old house into two, so I have a self-contained part. Bit too old to be still living with Mother!"
I glanced sharply at him, noting the slight wryness in his tone.
"It's convenient," he said simply. "No rent, no hassle and someone to do my washing now and again." I'm sure he didn't mean that last bit. He seemed a capable young man.
"Sounds like the best of all possible worlds," I replied.
"Yeah, it's fine. Don't know many people round here yet, though, so no wild socialising yet." Again, it seemed as if he spoke with regret.
"Well, we've met now, Jerry," I countered. "We should become friends." My mouth spoke before my brain had thought. It sounded to me like some awful pick-up line in a third rate Nifty story. However Jerry didn't seem to notice my gaucheness. Instead he looked at me, almost through me and replied, "Yeah, that would be nice, Jack. And, please, it's JJ."
"OK, JJ it is," I said. There was a silence, which stretched out as I tried to find something remotely interesting to say. Instead of which, I blurted out, "Well, I had better be going. Busy day. See you around!" JJ looked a little taken aback, but all the same, stretched out his large muscular hand and, shaking mine said, "Sure, Jack. See ya."
I started off and about fifteen seconds later, I realised I hadn't given him my address nor asked for his. Bright move! How would we meet again if I didn't know where the hell he lived. It was too late to turn in my tracks and correct the error. It would have been too lame and too... gay. I just swore loudly.
"Fucking typical! Meet a fucking drop-dead gorgeous half naked guy in the woods and don't even get his fucking number!!!"
I was furious with myself, the lame, dim front I had presented to JJ. He must really think I am such a fucking loser!!! I didn't dare turn round to see if he was still at the clearing. Yet another opportunity gone to waste. I swore to myself all the way home.
I got in, went straight to the shower and began soaping up. Yet another hardon! This was becoming a regular occurrence, jacking off to some fantasy. I pictured JJ's awesome body and his tight shorts which had barely concealed a very prodigious package. Another one that got away. My trouble is, I don't think. I just turn into some bloody dribbling idiot. Dammit! I thought as I stroked my raging hardon.
Some time later, I emerged from the shower, having to some extent got the anger and frustration not to mention jism, out of my system. At least I would be seeing Leo in a couple of hours. That made me feel slightly better. Hannah had got up and I smelt coffee from the kitchen. I went downstairs. Hannah looked up at me. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked from over the top of the newspaper.
"Went to bed early, so woke up early," I replied pouring myself some coffee. "What was the crisis at the office, then?" There was silence from behind the paper, then, "Oh, just some figures that some idiot of a temp had inputted wrong," replied Hannah. "They get dimmer by the year, these young girls." Somehow I got the feeling that was not the whole story, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
"Late night?" I asked. "Sorry I didn't wait up for you, I was exhausted yesterday."
"Okay," she replied. Did I imagine it, or was she relieved that I hadn't waited up for her? "Yes, I'm afraid it was late. I meant to call you, but then it got so late..." she disappeared behind the newspaper again. Suddenly the thought popped into my mind: was Hannah being totally straight with me? Was it really just a long night crunching numbers, or was there something else going on? Rubbish! This was Hannah, stable, secure, boring Mrs Perfection-Hannah. I dismissed the thought as quickly as it appeared – after all I wasn't being totally straight with her, in any sense of the word. I took my coffee to the table and we shared the paper together until it was time for me to leave for school and my first meeting with young Daniel.
"Don't forget Tommy's soccer match," Hannah reminded me.
"I'll be there," I replied as I took my music and left for school.
On the way I went over again my encounter with JJ. How could I have been such an idiot? I resolved to go jogging again next morning, in the vain hope that he might be there again. In fact, I thought, I would go jogging every bloody morning until I struck gold again, or rather, copper.
With that thought in my head, I went to the music room. As I turned into the hallway, I stopped dead in my tracks. There was that copper-coloured head of hair again! But it wasn't JJ.
This was someone quite else.
