The Lost Boy

The Lost Boy, 13.

The loud screech of the telephone rang throughout the house. As usual, it was set to HIGH. With so many people living under one roof, it needed to be. Screams and shouts came from children and adults alike as they all scrambled for it at once.

Like animals, Jamie thought to himself, as he slipped quietly out the door. Pulling his coat tightly around him, he ducked into the darkness and followed a path up the street. He did not need the light of the moon to know where he was going; his feet took him there automatically. Shivering slightly, he quickened his pace.

All of the beaches that surrounded the lake were public. This one was no exception; all of St. Paul had access to it. But it was only visited sporadically. Some people did not like to venture through the thick brush that hid its entrance, some didn’t know that it existed at all.

The Devils knew of its existence. They were, in fact, Crystal Beach’s only visitors for as long as they could remember. Coach O’dell had brought them there as children, when they were still learning the basics of hockey, to practice. It was quiet, secluded, and the water frozen enough to support their weight as they flew across the ice.

After their win against the Falcons, their peewee nemesis, they moved onto real skating rinks, and California, to play in the Junior Divisional Championships. After that, it was St. Dominic’s stadium rink. Gone were the days where Crystal Beach was a playing ground, a teaching ground. Jamie missed those days.

Sitting on one of the rusted swings that scattered the beach, Jamie took in his surroundings. The beach hadn’t changed much since his last visit. The water was frozen, the sand was white, and the abandoned swing set that he had played on with the Devils was still rusty. The garbage cans they used as goal posts were still standing underneath the willow tree – exactly where they were left after their final practice.

Scattered trash had blown from the outside street. He got up from the swing, the chains complaining loudly as he removed his weight from the pad. Reaching down to pick up the litter, Jamie could almost hear the ghostly whispers from his past.

“Hey, that almost hit me!”

“It’s supposed to hit you – you’re the goalie!”

“I don’t want to be goalie anymore!”

Jamie chuckled to himself, recalling how ridiculous he and his friends used to be.

“It’s amazing how time had changed us all,” He said quietly, still hunched over the debris.

“It’s amazing how time has changed you.”

Jamie jerked his head up, surprised at the intrusion. He looked up to see his former teammate, Danny Masters, staring down at him.

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