A H.E.R.O.S PROJECT 12

8. George Lucas

"Lou, Lou! Where are you?! I'm tired, thirsty, and lost!" Why am I talking to myself? This is pointless. I lost her over an hour ago. She's dead. "Why did you run when I was alone with you? Why not with Anaya? She likes these types of outings?"

Anaya is a go-with-the-flow person like Grandpa. They roll with the punches, accept their problems and try to move forward the best they can. It's the only Matthews trait I wished I had. As scared as I am, I smile, thinking about how she's so unafraid of life. She wouldn't mind looking for Lou in the woods, alone, in the dark, with no flashlight. The whole situation would make her laugh. She'd probably hope for a ghost or monster to appear so she could befriend it. She'd ask to join the fiend in his terrorizing. I laugh now.

I check my watch. It's late. I've been searching for Lou for hours, and the longer I walk, the more lost I am. Everything looks the same. I swear I've passed the same slanted tree, spider web, and crow perched on a high tree limb five times. I've gone so far out that I lost the trail home.

Why did I go after her? Why am I so stupid? Why didn't I bring food and water? My life isn't a fairytale. I'm not in The Wizard of Oz. Dorothy and I have nothing in common, and there aren't any magical red shoes to teleport me home.

I ponder. A teleportation device could be a good idea.

"Lou!" I shout one last time, dialing Anaya's number. I called Anaya fifteen times and texted her my whole story. Anything to get her attention. If I start a fire, Anaya would know it's me. I don't go through with the fire plan when I see a No Camping sign nailed to a tree limb.

I leave Anaya a voicemail, "Anaya, I know you're busy, but please, don't mind me. I'm doing great. Lou decided she didn't want a family anymore and left, so great. By great, I mean I'm going to die, and you'll most likely find my remains a week from now. I'll have a nighttime special on Strange Times, the paranormal news show Mom told us not to watch. My head will be in a picnic basket. I know that sounds weird. I'm also not doing okay. You're right. I need to drink more milk."

"My only wish is to be buried beside George Lucas when George passes. He's a famous director. You're smart, well, sometimes you don't use your head. But you'll figure it out. Illegally fulfilling my request is fine too. And tell George that Yoda needs to have a spin-off movie. Like where Yoda is the star. I want to know Yoda's backstory, but I'll be dead, so it won't technically matter. That's not the point. I want to be in George's dedications..." The line disconnects.

Something roars in the distance.

"Lou?" Another howl. "No! Not wolves!" I thought Grandpa was joking about wolves living in Argus. He says a lot of crazy things. It's hard knowing if he's telling the truth or out of his mind.

I take off. Forget Lou. She's on her own. If she's on a suicide mission, that's fine by me. I tried, and that's good enough.

The monster clenches my leg.

I trip, falling into something wet and slimy. My glasses fall, and a lens breaks. These are my favorite glasses.

"Don't kill me! I'm young and important!" I crouch on the ground with my hands up.

It steps over my legs and brutally licks my face. A wet nose sniffs my neck.

It's Lou, also drenched in mud.

She happily pounces on me. "Lou!" I hug her. "I thought you were dead. I heard howling, and I came looking for you." Of course, Lou doesn't respond. Dumb dog. I feel dumber talking to her.

Standing, I tweak my broken glasses, "We're going home, dog. Well, wherever home is?" I study the moon and rustling tree branches. I lick my finger to feel where the wind is blowing. "Grandpa's house might be that way," I guess, pointing in a random direction. I taste dirt on my tongue and regret licking my muddy finger. "If not, we should run into someone who should know. Grandpa said Ol'Jimmy Boy patrols the woods. Jimmy might already be searching for me."