Lost Treasures

Two

EMORY

"Grandma, are you sure you've got this? Watching Ezra all on your own for a week?"

"Yes, dear, I'll be fine. I'm not that old, you know," she replied with a wink. It was actually true. Her hair hadn't even turned grey yet, and she was in good physical shape for a fifty-two-year-old woman.

"I know, I know," I said, chuckling softly. "I just worry about him...and you. What if something were to happen while I was gone?"

"Emmy, breathe," Grandma said soothingly, using my nickname. "You needn't be so worried. I can handle Ezra. He's a doll, anyway."

"I'm glad you see him that way, Grandma, 'cause Lord knows he's a handful in my eyes!"

"Please, honey, I just want you to enjoy this week. Take a load off and have some fun. I know you're very responsible for Ezra, but that doesn't mean you don't need a break every now and then."

"Thanks, Grandma. You know, I am kind of excited. I haven't been to a camp in years."

"I know. I think the only sort of 'camp' you ever went to was Vacation Bible School as a child. It'll be good for you."

My grandma had basically raised me, ever since my mom got involved with the drug scene. My dad had never been in the picture; I didn't even know who he was. My mom only had one picture of him, but she would never tell me his name. My grandma said he was my mom's secret lover, so she never even knew about him until my mom became pregnant with me.

My mom had done the best she could while living under the influence of heroin, but now she was serving her time in prison. So, when I was twelve, my grandma got legal guardianship of me. It wasn't that much different, because I was practically already living with her by then. Anything to get away from my mom when she was using. She was also my babysitter whenever my mom felt like choosing her drugs over me on any given day.

I can talk about it pretty easily now because it's in the past. I still love my mom, and I hope one day she gets out of prison so we can have a good relationship. But for now, I'm content living with my grandma. She feeds me and makes sure I have all the clothes I need. And she helps me take care of Ezra, too.

Grandma makes sure we're in church every Sunday. She raised me to know the Lord on a personal level, and I'm grateful for that. My relationship with God isn't always the best, though. Most of the time, I don't really feel worthy of His love. It's hard to imagine that anyone could love me enough to die for me, or even think to create me. I still thank him every day for giving me this life, but it usually doesn't go beyond table prayers and simple thank-you's. I'd like to have a more personal, grounded relationship with Him, but I haven't gotten there yet.

Hopefully this camp will be what changes that.

ISRAEL

"Bye, Mom. I promise, I'll see you in a week." I listened as my best friend Hosea said goodbye to his mother. If I'm honest, she's a tad overbearing, but she's good-natured and she always means well. I never had a problem with her in all my years of being friends with Hosea.

Hosea and I met through church. At the time, we both went to Grace Baptist Church, but... let's just say that the "grace" in their name didn't always mean they were the most gracious people. My family doesn't even speak of them anymore, it was so bad.

Back then, Hosea and I were some of the only youth in the very small church, and that's how we became friends. When we were young and immature, we used to sit in the back pew and make fun of the pastor's hand motions and slurred speech. We joked that he was getting drunk on Saturday nights and coming to preach on Sunday mornings, but really, he just had a speech impediment. Why anyone with that kind of disorder would want to become a public speaker of sorts, beats me.

Anyway, Hosea and I grew up with each other. He was homeschooled, and I wasn't, so we learned a lot from each other. He always had good manners and was respectful, whereas I always knew which girls to tell him to stay away from and which ones to like. I can't say that my dating advice was always the best, though, considering he's never had a serious girlfriend. I've only had one.

I think Hosea is the kind of friend that every boy needs growing up. He's kept me on the path of righteousness when I almost slipped numerous times. He's always been there for me, never judging, but always with a Scripture to back me up and bring me to a point of realizing my own weaknesses and repenting. If it weren't for him, I'd probably be... Well, I don't know where I'd be.

When his mom finally let him go, and his sister and baby brother had given him their hugs, we got on the bus with the rest of my youth group. There were so many people I wanted to introduce him to!

First up was the youth band. We had three singers (two lead vocalists and a back-up who had a rotation), a drummer, two acoustic guitarists, me and one other guy on a bass rotation, and a keyboard player. "Hosea, these are my friends Hollen, Roman, Evie, and Lane," I said, gesturing to the three singers and the drummer. They all waved correspondingly.

"And this is Salem, Jude, and Ambrose." The guitarists and keyboard player gave a collection of 'surf's up' gestures and peace signs.

"Hi guys, it's nice to meet you," Hosea said politely, smiling at the group as a whole.

"Dude, that necklace is so cool!" Lane said to him enthusiastically. He was making a reference to the necklace Hosea wore every day, which was a cross made out of nails. (Not real nails, of course—that would be dangerous. They were welded and handcrafted, hanging on a string of brown leather.) He'd worn it every day since he was twelve.

"Oh, thanks," Hosea replied to Lane, fumbling with the necklace like he'd just realized he had it on.

"Let's find a seat," I said to him, scanning the aisles. There was an empty row right behind Hollen and Evie, so we found our way back there and sat down.

"Are you good?" I asked as we shuffled our bags around to make room for our long legs and feet.

"Yeah, I'm good. Um, how long is the drive?"

"Six hours. Settle in, it's gonna be a long ride." Especially without our phones, I added mentally.

"Dang...I'm gonna take a nap, then." He took out his pillow and propped it up on the seat in front of us, laying his head down against it. He didn't look very comfortable, but then again, sleeping on school buses never was.

I chose to look out the window until I eventually got bored and fell asleep, my head slumping against the glass.

By the time I awoke, we had arrived.