Read Online The Sick Horror at The Lost and Found by Heidi King - Free Book Online

lost her to the
surfer dudes on her right while I was trying to think of the theme
song to Family Ties . The surfers were sitting on the dock with their feet in the
water, just like us. They had classic six pack surfer dude bodies,
both of them.
    “ You build callouses. We
weren’t born with shoes.”
    I had suggested wine and lobster, my
treat. I wanted to get to know her better – what we were to each
other. Instead we got quick mystery street meat in front of our bar
for the night, The Wreck Deck -- a rancho covered dance bar with
docks built over the sunken ship. Tonight it was filled with rum
infused tourists and horny, aggressive locals.
    After telling travel stories that made
them feel superior to their fellow backpackers and exchanging
compliments on their tats, they started to ask María questions.
Since they are used to comparing notes on how cheap their tickets
to Panama City were, they were captivated to hear how she crossed
overland from Colombia, through the Darien jungle.
    “ There was this one day I
had to take a shit,” María said. The hipster and nerd pricked up
their ears too now. “The Embera Indians pointed to this wooden
structure at the far end of the village, near forest. It was a high
wooden platform, something like a water tower except there was no
water tank – just a hole in the floor. I hate heights, they freak
me out but I had to go real bad so climbed this creaky old tower
and I just squatted over the hole. Looking down between my legs, I
am confused. Nobody else’s pooh is on the ground below. Then there
is a rustling in the trees behind me. Before my pooh hits the
ground, a group of crazy black pigs run from the forest, and then
they just suck it right up. Before I even pull up my panties they
have disappeared again. I wonder if I dreamed the whole
thing.”
    I can’t help but look at the open
mouthed surfer dudes and think they are like the wild boars eating
up her shit. I am jealous, I know. I have always wanted a six pack.
María is beautiful even when she stands and mimics taking a
shit.
    I have learned a few more things about
María since the day she took the valium on the bus and ended up
covered in urine. María never learned shame. She is not afraid to
be the center of attention and is not afraid to cross dangerous
jungle alone. (But the fear of falling will bring her to tears.)
She unapologetically sucks up life. She pees by the side of the
road in full view of traffic. She steals restaurant tablecloths and
sleeps on dangerous beaches. If you believe her stories, she fights
back when she’s being robbed to the point that either she or the
mugger ends up battered and bruised. She accepts foot rubs from
horny strangers with fetishes. She jumps off of cruise ships she’s
worked on because the water looked nice. Her motto is, strangers
have the best candy. She smokes weed in front of Panamanian cops.
She hops the kiosk counter to demonstrate how to make real fried
plantains. She searches deserted beaches for quiet locations to
masturbate. She adopts strays. She learned English at a posh
boarding school but never speaks about her parents. She is a stray
that accepts adoption.
    I realize that I am only one fifth of
a family that has adopted María. It is because of this that I stole
her away with me to Bocas Del Toro. Travel is life on
speed.
    I dragged María onto a boat taking
partiers across to the next island for the full moon party. We were
early – the moon hadn’t yet risen. Low tide stretched the beach out
more than 50 meters so we walked to a normally submerged sandpit in
water only a few inches deep. We lay together in the wet sand
looking up at the stars. Except for heavy bass thumping from a bar
far in the distance, everything was silent.
    While waiting for falling
stars, something dark flashed in my peripheral vision. Then we
notice dark things flying over us. At first I thought they were
bats. Bats often come out in Panama at night and flash by so
quickly that