Lost and Found

The standoff with the closet was ongoing.

Lilly’s hand braced on the door as she surveyed all six feet of the room's depth from one side to the other. On the left hung three pant suits: in black, beige, and gray; five button up blouses: in white, red, blue, yellow, and black; plus accessories, three black belts in three sizes, two handbags: in white and black; and two pairs of culottes: in black and green. One pair of heels and a pair of flats sat neatly arranged on the floor. Everything was spaced evenly with the empty hangers on the end. All of it was tailored to her and fit like a glove.

Then there was the right side.

Every inch of hanging space was packed with hangers holding boy’s and girl’s T-shirts, blouses, button ups, skirts, dresses, pants, skorts, sweaters, jackets, and heavy coats in combinations of white, black, red, purple, blue, green, yellow, and violet—but no pink—and in every pattern from solid to stripes, polkadot, plaid, chevron, paisley, gingham, and toile; everything she’d worn from the age of nine to nineteen. Nearly every item was too small but a few pieces were clownishly oversized for her relatively slender frame.

Lilly sighed heavily.

Two days was all she had to get this done; the sooner the better. Dragging the process out would likely result in her putting it off entirely as she had done for the last decade and she could already feel a headache coming on. Lilly went to the bed and pulled an industrial-sized opaque black plastic bag from a box. She shook it until the plastic filled with air.

There was no good place to start.

Taking a deep breath, Lilly marched up to the fortified mass of colorful chaos; she reached in with both hands to hug around an armload of garments and jostled them until the mismatched hangers came loose. The clothes went into a waiting bag like a cat going into a bath—hangers sprawling in every direction to snag as she pulled the sides up. Lilly closed her eyes; a wave of dizziness made her brace against the floor, nearly falling over the bundle.

“I’m sorry…”

Breathing heavily through her nose, she pushed herself up to her feet and went for the next bundle. With every bag stuffed full of her shame, her vision blurred more. Lilly stopped several times to gasp as her heart palpitated. She should have put on gloves. Every fabric she touched had a unique feel that brought up memories of the times she’d worn them.

She had outgrown the clothes but not the memories.

Lilly’s current outfit: a red tartan culotte and a black ribbed-knit elbow-length turtleneck were the most outlandish features of her daily wardrobe; the very outfit that had landed her in this current predicament.

Maxine hadn’t known about the closet

Lilly didn’t want to tell her. It was the red tartan culotte that prompted her coworker to say: “Oh, I love that on you! You look great in patterns.” Not that there was anything wrong with that, but Lilly’s insecurity showed when she said that she felt uncomfortable wearing patterns to work. Somehow the conversation had turned to her limited wardrobe and Maxine’s observation that she seemed to only have “like five things” that she wore to work. Unsure how to respond, Lilly had tried to shrug it off by saying: “I’m just not very good at clothing shopping.”

That was a big mistake.

“Oh, don’t worry, I love shopping! I’ll take you!” Maxine had said. Lilly felt light headed at the idea, but she found herself agreeing that it might be a good thing. Maxine wanted to see her closet to see what all she had already, something about gauging her style. There was no explanation Lilly could give for the right side of her closet; no reasonable explanation anyway.

Lilly was in tears as she tied the fifth bag.

She shouldn’t be crying unless it was tears of joy. This was a good thing. She needed to keep going. Lilly shook out her hands waving air into her face as she took a breath and exhaled slowly. When the last bag was secured, she took a last look around the starkly barren right side for any straggling items. The hanging bars sagged slightly from years of burden. Maxine might not notice that; her focus would be drawn to the vibrant colors of the left side.

Now to get the bags to the car.

She hauled everything to the garage. Lilly had to push and squish the ten bundles into her silver Mercedes-Maybach. The process damaged the integrity of a few bags, but she persisted until she finally had to resign to the fact only seven would fit. It would have to be done in two trips.

She didn’t want to take two trips.

Opening the driver’s door, Lilly sat behind the wheel and took deep breaths as her hands trembled on the wheel. She sniffed, wiped the tears away from her eyes and pushed the garage door button. It slowly raised as she started the car.

All she had to do was make the first trip… then get ice cream.

There wasn’t much traffic. That was good; Lilly didn’t have the presence of mind to react to inconsiderate drivers today. Her fingers itched to cut the wheel and steer toward home. She noted the shops as they went by: Lisa’s Dance Studio had low foot traffic on Wednesdays between 5pm and 6pm; The Karate Master Gym was busy most days but it was quiet for forty-five minute intervals during class time with 15 minute bursts of traffic after class; Jim’s Fitness Center was quiet between the hours of 7am to 9am and 1pm to 4pm on weekdays; and the local YMCA was usually low trafficked before 8am and after 5pm.

There was a line at the donation center.

Lilly reasoned that 8pm must be a popular time for donation. The car at the head of the line was unloading boxes with decorative items: lawn ornaments and lamps poked out of the open cardboard. Only three cars until her turn; they were moving fairly quickly. She could see two attendants overseeing the donations. One wheeled out a freshly emptied bin to put in the line drop off area and pulled a full one away to unload inside the building.

A car pulled into the line behind her.

There was no backing out: literally. Lilly felt pressure in her chest. Her eyes flicked between the review and side mirror; she tried to make out the driver that would be judging her donation. She’d used opaque black bags for this reason. They might guess it was clothes but they wouldn’t see what kind—it was fine—she would be fine. As Lilly pulled forward with the line the driver’s face cleared in the mirror.

It was not fine!

Maxine’s enthusiastic eyes drifted side to side as her lips moved to the lyrics of a song. Lilly’s head swam. Had Maxine followed her? It wasn’t likely, but the coincidence made her breathing accelerate.

Her turn.

Lilly got out and began heaving the bags into the bins. The attendant: an early twenties woman with loosely pulled back hair wearing a neon yellow vest over her white T-shirt and faded blue jeans, smiled warmly at her as she put the fifth bag in. She didn’t look at Maxine’s car. Only two more and she would be done. 

The sixth bag tore open halfway to the bin.

Lilly’s eyes widened as she bent to scramble up the loose items. She tried to suppress her breathing so the attendant wouldn’t hear the panic. Scooping up what she could into the tattered remnant of plastic, she unceremoniously chucked the bundle into the bin and collected the rest by hand. Even in her hurry she froze when her hands closed around a spandex leotard. Her mind reeled back.

She was nine years old.

The local church in her hometown had hosted a nine week long summer camp to teach the girls acrobatics. Lilly wasn’t part of the church, but she’d seen the flier on the bulletin board on the street as she walked to school. It hadn’t been hard to sneak in on Sunday and find the permission form. Forging her mother’s signature was a non issue since they had nothing to compare it to. Lilly filled out all the necessary fields herself.

Her first day was exciting until the instructor asked her to go change.

“You need to wear your leotard to tumble.” the woman had said. She was a well muscled and lean athlete with blue shorts over her sparkling spandex attire. Lilly fidgeted when she said her mother forgot to pack it. Her stomach had dropped when the woman had said she’d get her “sorted out.”

But the woman took her to a box.

It was half full of spandex and other articles of clothing. Handwritten in marker were the words: Lost and Found. The instructor told her to see if she could find one in her size and to go give it a wash in the laundry room. She’d miss an hour of the initial participation but she would be brought up to speed. There was one in her size: a black one with a flare of yellow sequins up the right side.

“But what if the owner is looking for it?” Lilly asked.

The instructor laughed. This box was from last year’s camp. Anyone who might be looking for it would have outgrown it this year. It was something that often happened with lost and found bins, she assured.

“Do other places have lost and found boxes?”

Of course they did. Anywhere there was athletics where people changed, there were also lost and found as it was “Inevitable” that someone would carelessly leave a belonging behind and forget about it.

That news had changed Lilly’s life.

“Oh my god, Lilly, I didn’t know I would run into you here!” Maxine’s happy voice cut through her memory.

Lilly snatched the last few pieces into a ball and stood. She peeled her dry lips off her teeth into a smile. “Maxine—what a coincidence—you live around here?”

“Yup! Just down the street here.” She waved her freshly manicured hand in the direction. “I do a little spring cleaning every year and what a surprise to find you here. This is exciting!”

Pressing her smile to cover her cry of despair, Lilly nodded an: “Mmhmm. Yes, exciting, but I’m afraid we may be holding up the line. Would you like to meet for coffee after or do you have other errands to run today?”

“I would love to, there’s a nice little place around the corner.” Maxine waved her hands as she talked.

The attendant cleared their throat. “Uhm, ladies…”

“Oh, yes-yes. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Maxine said cheerfully.

“Yep.” Lilly watched her walk back to her car then she circled the passenger side of the Maybach. She tugged the leotard out of the bundle and laid it on the seat before grabbing the last bag…

Lilly fabricated reasons to give Maxine on the way to the coffee shop.

When she put the vehicle in park, she stuffed the leotard into the glove box. She ordered a white chocolate mocha and sat at a window seat. Spring cleaning was a good excuse, she could say her cousin had asked her help in getting rid of childhood clothes. That could be reasonable.

She wished she’d have changed before she’d left the house.

Lilly wanted to burn the tartan culotte. It had caused her so much trouble.

No, it was a good thing. Maxine didn’t mean anything by her enthusiasm. She’d been meaning to let go of the clothes. The habit of taking from the lost and found had ended five years ago when she purchased her work wardrobe. It was well past time other people were able to use the lost and forgotten things she’d been holding onto.

A tear ran down Lilly’s cheek followed closely by another.

“Thank you, clothes.” she whispered to her mocha.