Every Precious Thing

Len, about Kansas, and even a couple about his brother Tommy-a subject he’d always been less open about. By the time they grabbed a coffee on their way back, Harp seemed if not himself then at least improved.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m up for an early dinner,” Logan said. “Maybe catch a movie on TV after?”

Harp said nothing for a moment. “I’d like to stop by the cemetery on our way home in the morning.”

“Sure, Dad. Whatever you want.”

“Okay,” Harp said, looking relieved. “That sounds good.”

As they crossed into the motel parking lot, Logan said, “There’s that Indian restaurant here that’s supposed to be pretty decent, and I thought I saw a sushi place when we drove in.”

Harp lit up. “Sushi sounds good.” He’d developed a fondness for California rolls in recent years. “Let’s-”

His pace slowed to a stop as his gaze locked onto something in the distance. Logan turned to see what it was.

Standing near his El Camino was Callie Johnson, Uncle Len’s youngest child and only daughter, still wearing the same black dress she’d had on earlier. She was somewhere in her mid-fifties now, and when she’d been a young undergrad at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo, she’d make a few extra bucks by occasionally driving up to Cambria and babysitting Logan.

Harp shook off his surprise and walked quickly toward her.

“Callie. I’m…I’m sorry I didn’t stay around. I just…”

“It’s okay, Uncle Neal,” she said, using Harp’s first name. “I couldn’t hang around there, either.”

“Well, uh…we’re about to grab some dinner. Would you like to join us?”

“I don’t want to interfere.”

“You won’t be interfering,” Logan said, coming up behind his father. “I’m sure Dad would like a little more company than just me.”

“Well, now that he mentions it…” Harp said.

She smiled and nodded. “All right. Thank you.”

Logan ordered spicy tuna, while Harp went for his usual. Callie, not as experienced at sushi, decided on the sampler plate.

As they waited for their food, Harp said, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about your dad.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I know he meant a lot to you, too.”

“He was a special man. I don’t know what my life would have been like without him.”

Callie bit the inside of her lip, obviously attempting to keep her emotions in check. Finally she said, “He left something for you.”

Harp looked surprised. “For me? What?”

“I don’t know.” She opened her purse and withdrew a padded envelope about an inch thick. “It was in a box of things Dad told Michael and me about. He said once he was gone, we should open it and we’d know what to do. There were packages for several people inside.” She looked at the envelope and then handed it to Harp. “This one has your name on it.”

Written across the front in thick black ink was FOR HARP. Below this was his address in Cambria. Harp stared at his name for a moment, then looked at Callie and said, “Thank you.”

As he started to set the package on the seat beside him, she asked, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

Logan was sure Harp wanted to wait until he was alone, but Callie was Len’s daughter, and the package was, in essence, one of his last messages. She’d want to know what was inside, too.

Harp also seemed to sense this. “Sure,” he said, and set the package on the table.

A single strip of packing tape held the package closed. Harp carefully ripped it off, then reached inside the envelope and pulled out the contents.

A book. An old book.

Harp looked at it, his face growing in wonder. “Oh, my god,” he said.

“What is it?” Logan asked.

Harp turned the book so Logan and Callie could see it. It was a hardcover, and though torn a little at one end, the dust jacket was still intact. Arched across the top portion was the title Lost Horizon, below this was a brown illustration of some buildings on a mountain, and at the very bottom was the name James Hilton.

Logan had read Lost Horizon in high school. It hadn’t been an English class requirement. It was something Harp had suggested he read. And while the story was long dated even then, Logan had enjoyed it enough to read it again in college.

In almost fearful anticipation, Harp opened the cover, sucked in a breath, then touched the inside near the top.

Softly, Logan said, “Dad?”

Harp looked at him, his eyes brimming with tears, and showed Logan what he’d found.

Written on the inside cover in pen was TOM HARPER.

Harp’s big brother. Logan’s uncle whom he had never met.

“I haven’t seen this since before he left for…before he left home,” Harp said. Logan knew his father had only been ten when his brother joined the navy during the war. “He used to have me read parts out loud to him when he was working around the farm. Said it was good practice for me.”

Logan had never known that. He thought Lost Horizon was a book his father had wanted him to read just as a whim. How wrong he’d been.

“He took this with him,” Harp went on. “I thought it got lost over there.”

Callie said, “My dad once told me the day Tom’s plane didn’t return was one of the worst of his life. He must have found the book in Tom’s things and saved it. He probably meant to give it to you long ago.”

“I didn’t realize they actually served together,” Logan said.

Harp nodded absently, his attention still on the book. “They were both ordnancemen on PBYs, just on different planes.”

Callie picked up the discarded packaging and looked inside. “There’s something else,” she said. She withdrew a white, business-sized envelope and handed it to Harp.

This was nowhere near as old as the book. On the front was scrawled MANILA.

“What’s that mean?” Logan asked.

Instead of answering, Harp looked inside the envelope, then closed it again without showing it to anyone else.

“It’s nothing,” Harp told him. He put the book and the envelope back into the package, and set it on his lap, out of sight.

There were so many questions Logan wanted to ask-about Uncle Tommy, about the book, about the envelope-but Harp was a million miles away.

After their food finally arrived, and they’d started eating, Callie glanced at Logan. “Dad mentioned your, uh, trip a few months ago.”

“My trip?” Logan asked.

“Where you helped that girl? Brought her back?”

Logan looked at his father. “I didn’t know we were sharing that with other people.”

“You can’t seriously think I wouldn’t have told Len,” Harp said.

Logan frowned, and turned back to Callie. “I got lucky, that’s all. There’s not much of a story to tell.”

She hesitated a moment. “I’m not asking you to tell me the story. I’m asking you for help.”

CHAPTER THREE

“Help? what kind of help?” Logan asked, hoping he was wrong about where Callie was going.

“It…it actually wasn’t my idea. It was Dad’s.”

“Len?” Harp said, looking at her with interest.