Jeremy Fink and the Meaning of Life Read online

  He laughs. “What’s that for?”

  Lizzy doesn’t answer and doesn’t let go.

  “Honestly,” he says, “I’m not dying! Just needed to rest the old bones for a few days.”

  I pry Lizzy away, and Mr. Oswald straightens his shirt. As we file inside, I can see nearly the whole house is boxed up now. His office shelves are still full though. I wonder what we’ll be delivering today. The old globe? A baseball glove?

  “Notebooks?” he asks.

  We fish out our notebooks and hand them over. He takes them and sits in his big leather chair. To my surprise, he flips open the front cover of each one, scribbles something, and slides them back to us. I open mine to see that he has written his name and the date.

  “You’re not going to read them?” I ask.

  He shakes his head and folds his hands together. “Your observations of life are your own. You don’t need me or anyone telling you how to do it anymore.”

  “We don’t?” Lizzy says. “What if the community service people want to collect them?”

  “They probably won’t,” Mr. Oswald says. “But that’s why I signed them, just in case.”

  “Mr. Oswald?” I ask as I slip my notebook in my backpack.

  “Yes, Jeremy?”

  “Did my mom tell you we’re going away to New Jersey on Saturday? I hope that’s okay. I’m sorry we’ll be missing work.”

  He smiles, but it’s a sad smile. “This is our last day together.”

  “Huh?” Lizzy and I say together.

  “My move is happening sooner than I expected. I’ll need to wrap up a lot of loose ends before I go.”

  My stomach clenches. I know I should be glad that we have our freedom again, but all I feel is a sense of loss.

  “No more limo rides?” Lizzy says.

  “I’m afraid not,” Mr. Oswald replies. “But to show my appreciation at how well you both did, I’d like you both to choose something from my shelves. Anything you like.”

  Lizzy is already halfway out of her seat.

  I start to get up, too, but then hesitate. “But don’t these still need to be returned to the people who pawned them when they were kids?”

  Mr. Oswald shakes his head. “The telescope was the last one. The rest of these objects have found their way to me over the years in the traditional manner. Go on, take a look.”

  Lizzy makes a beeline for the creepy blue-eyed doll. I guess that’s what happens when your dad gives you trucks instead of dolls to play with as a baby. Mr. Muldoun swears he tried to get her to play with a Barbie, but she threw it out the window.

  I scan the shelves, but I can’t pick out anything that I really need. The old record player is kinda cool, and there’s a huge dictionary on a stand, which is very tempting.

  “Having trouble?” Mr. Oswald asks, stepping up behind me.

  “I just can’t choose.”

  “How about that suitcase?” he suggests, pointing to a hardback suitcase on the bottom shelf. “You could use it for your trip.”

  I hadn’t really noticed it before. I bend down to take a look. It’s one of those old-fashioned suitcases, covered with stickers from exotic ports around the world. At first I think it’s just manufactured to look that way, but upon closer inspection, I see they are all real. The stickers have dates on them from the twenties up to the fifties. It’s actually very, very cool. I could put books or comics in there. Or anything, really. “Thanks!” I tell him. “It’s great.” I close my hand around the handle and figure I would easily lift it off the shelf. Instead, I almost fall forward when I try to lift it.

  “Oh, right!” Mr. Oswald says. “I’m sorry about that. I forgot that’s where I stored the flotsam and jetsam people left in all the old furniture I’ve bought over the years.”

  Lizzy asks, “What the heck is flotsam and jetsam?”

  “Little things like safety pins, pencils, buttons, keys. Things that have a way of getting stuck in the backs of drawers. I have a hard time throwing anything out.” Lizzy and I exchange an excited look while Mr. Oswald chuckles and says, “But of course one look at my home would tell you that much. I’ll have James empty the suitcase for you, and then you’ll be—”

  “No!” Lizzy and I yell at the same time.

  Mr. Oswald steps back a foot.

  I hurry to explain. “If it’s okay, can I take it with the flotsam and jetsam inside?”

  “Of course, but why?”

  I open my mouth to explain, but glance at Lizzy first. She nods, so I say, “You remember that box I showed you? The one with all the keyholes?”

  “Of course. An interesting box. Unusual.”

  “Well, we kinda have only one more week to find the keys to open it.”

  “And you think they might be in there?” He casts the suitcase a doubtful look.

  “We’ve already tried half the keys in this city,” Lizzy says. “So it’s worth a shot.”

  “By all means, take them then. As a collector, I always admire a good quest. I bet your father did, too, Jeremy, from what you’ve told me about him.” He pats me on the shoulder. “I admire such dedication. Looking for one stamp his whole life. Regular people might think doing such a thing would be frustrating, but it’s not. There’s joy in the search itself. It’s exciting.”

  I nod. “That’s how he felt about it. Remember, Lizzy?”

  She smiles. “That’s why he wanted us to start our own collections.”

  Mr. Oswald presses the intercom and calls for James to come in and to bring a cart with wheels. While we wait, he says, “Don’t get me wrong, finding what you’re looking for is wonderful, too. The harder something is to acquire, the more satisfying it is when you finally find it.”

  James arrives, and Mr. Oswald asks him to bring the suitcase out to the car. James loads it on the cart. “Want me to take the doll, too?” he asks Lizzy, trying to hide a smile.

  “That’s okay,” she says. Then when she sees us all looking at her with expressions of ‘oh, isn’t she cute hugging the doll,’ she hastily throws it on top of the suitcase. “It was getting heavy anyway.”

  “Thanks for everything, Mr. Oswald,” I say, sticking out my hand.

  He shakes it firmly. “It was my pleasure working with you both. I hope you find what you’re looking for. In more ways than one.”

  Lizzy shakes his hand, too. “I hope you like it down there in Florida. Maybe you’ll meet some nice lady to keep you company.”

  “Lizzy!” I exclaim.

  Mr. Oswald just laughs. “We’ll see, we’ll see.”

  The ride home is quiet. We make sure to push all the buttons that we hadn’t tried before, and turn on the TV for the first time. All we get is static. I turn to Lizzy. “Did you know that some of the radiation from the Big Bang is inside the static on your TV set?”

  “Where’d you learn that one?”

  “I’ve been doing some reading about the universe lately. During the H.O.J.”

  “That’s pretty interesting,” she says.

  My eyes widen. “It is?” Lizzy has never, in my memory, said any of my factoids were interesting. James pulls up in front of the building, but neither of us gets out. I keep opening and closing the door of the fridge. Lizzy fiddles with the armrest. Finally James opens both of the back doors, and we have no choice.

  We stand on the curb as he lifts the suitcase out and places it on the sidewalk. He hands Lizzy her doll. She glances around to make sure no one we know is watching before she takes it.

  “We’ll miss you, James,” she says. ’You’re a man of few words.”

  He chuckles. “Never learned anything by listening to myself talk.”

  “Are you going to Florida with Mr. Oswald?” I ask.

  “For a little while. Help him get settled. He won’t need me down there. I guarantee in a month or two he’ll have set up shop at some antique show or flea market. He can’t stay away from those things. Loves meeting other collectors. It’s in his blood.”

  “I kno