Found & Lost
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same –- Emily Brontë
Editor’s Note: We’re delighted to share an excerpt from our own Howard Lovy’s new novel about two musicians who, after forty years apart, are brought back together when their decades-old song goes viral. —David Michael Slater
From Found and Lost: The Jake and Cait Story
A montage of aging photographs, memories captured in sepia, fills the screen. Jake and Cait, frozen in moments of laughter and music, are the heart of each frame. The sounds of their Interlochen compositions—violin and guitar entwined—begin to fill the silence.
Narrator: As summer waned into its last days of August 1985, Jake and Cait were about to begin a new chapter. They were more than two friends and lovers who had met at Interlochen Arts Camp. They were now two musicians yearning for freedom and the open road.
The scene transitions to candid shots taken from within a car, each of them captured by the other as they journey down the highway. The violin and guitar music of Jake and Cait can be heard in the background.
Jake (Voice-over): It was good to see each other in a different context, you know, out of this bubble of make-believe in Interlochen. I think we had outstayed our welcome there, anyway. We had become a spectacle. It was a place of learning, and we were too much of a disruption. It was time to go and pretend we were adults in the real world.
Cait (Voice-over): How did we get along? Well, sometimes we bickered like an old married couple. Jacob was upset when I jumped out of the car in Chicago to go play with some street musicians. But I remember how free they all seemed and the joy they got out of playing music. I wanted to find a way to feel the same thing. I don’t know if I can describe this properly, but music is something deeply spiritual to me. I feel closer to God when I am playing. When I play music, it’s not only about the notes, the rhythm, or the melody. There’s something much more profound happening. It’s like [Pause] it’s like tapping into a universal language that transcends words. It’s a connection to something greater than myself, a divine essence. It’s spiritual, deeply spiritual, and it feels almost religious. It’s as if every note I play is a prayer, an intimate conversation with the divine. Those buskers seemed to have that kind of energy. They weren’t just playing music; they were living it, breathing it. It was their sermon, their worship. Anyway, we were teenagers, so everything seemed more emotional, more dire. But Jacob said I put my life in danger by jumping out of the car.
Jake (Voice-over): Yeah, but I got over that. Then she starts going on about God in music. It all seemed too holy roller for me, so I got a little annoyed. Probably too annoyed. You see, I was always on the lookout for Christians who go on about God because they’re usually one step away from blaming the Jews for something. Anything. Not one antisemitic thing ever came out of Caity’s mouth back then. Ever. What she’s become now, forty years later, I have no idea. But at the time, I was on guard. Maybe it had to do with my father’s disapproval of the relationship. Yeah. Caity’s right. Everything seems more exaggerated when you’re a teenager.
Cait (Voice-over): And then, there was the McDonald’s incident.
Shot of a McDonald’s in Chicago’s Hyde Park while Jake and Cait’s music plays in the background.
Jake (Voice-over): Ah, the infamous McDonald’s episode. Did Caity really bring that up? I had forgotten all about it. [Pause] Okay, that’s a lie. I hadn’t forgotten about it. But I wrongly blamed her for the whole thing. I was raised in a kosher household, and I was a vegetarian at the time, but Caity wanted me to try a cheeseburger.
And before I knew it, I was eating one. It was the first time I had ever eaten something that wasn’t kosher.
Cait (Voice-over): I didn’t realize at the time that it was such a big deal for Jacob. To me, it was just a cheeseburger, but for him, it was a major transgression against his Jewish upbringing.
Jake (Voice-over): The damn thing seemed to stick in my throat. The taste of it, the texture, it all felt foreign and, somehow, wrong. But that wrongness wasn’t because of the food itself. It was because of what it represented. A breaking of rules, a defiance of the order I had grown up with. It was about Caity, about us. We were in this relationship that my father disapproved of. He was a devout Jew, and here was his son, dating a Catholic girl, eating nonkosher food. I was crossing lines I had never dared to cross before. And I blamed Caity. Not because it was her fault, but because she was there. But in reality, I had always wanted to try one, a cheeseburger. And now here I was, tasting it for the first time. It was a mix of guilt, fear, and exhilaration. Like I said, things take on extra emotional dimensions when you’re a hormone-ridden teenager.
The camera switches to shots of the two of them smiling and laughing as they drive down the road. A shot of the 1985 Chicago skyline at night, with the sounds of the city in the background.
Narrator: The couple spent the night in Chicago at Jake’s brother’s apartment, then headed off to Rock Island, Illinois.
Jake (Voice-over): Then, I finally met Caity’s family. What a fiasco. By the time that visit was over, we both had enough, and it was time to do something drastic.
Narrator: In the next episode, we’ll learn what Jake and Cait did next and why they decided to make such a drastic decision.
Outro music begins playing as the camera pans back over the snapshots of their road trip. The music swells, and the screen fades to black.
***
The whole cast of St. Elmo’s Fire—Rob Lowe, Demi Moore, Emilio Estevez, Ally Sheedy, Judd Nelson, and the rest—were at a bus stop, hugging each other in some kind of farewell before the final scene at St. Elmo’s Bar, where they made a few wisecracks. Then there was the sound of strings in the background as the credits rolled.
Jake and Cait were at the Capri Cinema on Nineteenth Street in Cait’s hometown of Rock Island, Illinois. Tickets were one dollar and fifty cents, and Jake had been really looking forward to relaxing in the theater with his girlfriend after a long drive from Chicago and a stressful interrogation with Cait’s father. But the mood was ruined. About midway through the show, two imposing men who looked like they were in their forties entered the theater and sat a couple of rows behind them. Cait sank low into her seat.
“Oh my God,” she whispered to Jake. “Don’t look behind you, but two of my older brothers are here.”
Jake immediately removed his arm from around Cait’s shoulder and squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.
“What the fuck?” he whispered. “Why are they here?”
“I don’t know,” Cait said. “This doesn’t seem like their kind of movie.”
“Well, of course they’re not here to see the movie, Caity,” said Jake. “Are they here to beat the crap out of me for dating their sister? Should I run for my life?” He scanned the theater for an exit.
“Don’t be silly, Jacob,” said Cait. “They’re probably here to talk to me after the show. Don’t worry.”
But Jake did worry. And now the credits had reached the best boy and key grip level, so there was no reason to remain seated. Jake wondered if Cait’s brothers would break his fingers so he could never play guitar again. Was there an Irish Mafia? And did they do that kind of thing? He wasn’t certain. Maybe they were members of the IRA and could make Jake “disappear?” Only his mother knew where he was, and he never said when or if he was ever coming home. He wouldn’t be missed for months. Maybe years.
And, as Jake predicted and feared, they were not here to see Cait at all. Jake and Cait reached the lobby, and the two men snapped into action. One of them, a tall man with a square jaw and the same crop of red hair as Cait, grabbed Jake’s arm on the left. The other, also a red-haired man but leaner, wedged himself between Jake and Cait on the right, taking the other arm. Jake made a mental note that red hair was not as attractive on a man as it was on a woman. Then he wondered why he made meaningless observations like this during times of great stress and danger.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” said the one on the left. “Rosner, take your car keys out of your pocket and give them to Caitlin. She’ll take them and wait for you in your car while you come with us for a little talk.”
Jake wondered why Cait’s brother addressed him by his last name. Maybe it was to stress his Jewishness?
“Conor,” said Cait. “Did Da send for you? This is absolutely outrageous. I’m a grown woman and can see whomever I want.”
Jake noticed how Cait’s voice took on a formal tone when speaking to her family. She most definitely came from money. Not that he cared either way.
“Caitlin,” said the other brother. “We’ll just be a few minutes with Romeo over here. Nothing to worry about. We won’t harm a pimple on his pretty face. Just want to talk.”
“Declan,” said Cait, with a warning in her voice.
But before she could continue, Conor had reached into Jake’s pocket, grabbed his car keys, and shoved them into Cait’s hand.
“Go. Now,” Declan commanded.
“It’s probably a good idea for you to wait for me in my car,” said Jake, trying to sound calm for Cait’s benefit. “Now is a good time for me to get to know your brothers. They seem nice.”
Conor wasn’t amused and yanked Jake’s arm and shoulder forward. They accompanied him to the street parking outside the Capri Cinema and walked him over to a BMW. Declan opened the back door.
“Get in,” said Conor.
Jake began to shake uncontrollably. Damn, he thought. Don’t do that. It’s humiliating. But he couldn’t help it. He wondered if he should say the Sh’ma, a Hebrew prayer—declaring God is the only God—that Jews were expected to chant at the moment of their deaths. He began to say it in his head, which brought him some comfort and put a stop to his shaking. Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonanoi Eloheinu …
Declan was tired of waiting. He pushed Jake’s head down and shoved him into the back seat of the BMW.
Declan climbed in, and Conor entered on the other side, with Jake sandwiched in the middle.
At this moment, Jake wondered why he couldn’t find a nice Jewish girl like his parents wanted for him. Well, it was too late. He was in love with an Irish Catholic girl, and whatever came with that, he was willing to accept. Apparently, what you got with the deal were Conor and Declan.
“Okay, Rosner,” said Conor, who apparently was the oldest, and the Doyle family spokesman. “Look, let’s stay in the car here for about five minutes or so to make it look good. Then you can go.”
“What?” asked Jake.
“Yeah,” said Declan. “Our da has some outdated ideas, and he wanted us to threaten you in some way and make you leave Caitlin alone. I mean, it’s the fucking ’80s, man. We’re not living in the Middle Ages. We trust Caitlin to make her own decisions.”
“Just promise us three things, Rosner,” said Conor. “What’s that?” asked Jake.
“Number one: never, ever hurt our sister, or we’ll come for you for real,” said Conor.
“Of course I won’t. I mean, I’ll never hurt Caity. I love her,” said Jake.
“Number two,” said Conor. “Don’t ever tell anybody what we talked about in here. I want our da to think we threatened you. That means you cannot tell Caitlin, either. Let her think we’re a couple of idiots. That’s fine. Maybe that’ll convince her to get the fuck out of Rock Island like we did. I don’t have to tell you that she’s a very talented girl who will go far in life. She belongs with people who can recognize her gifts. Maybe that’s you. I don’t know. But take care of her, okay?”
“I promise,” Jake said. “I’ll protect her.” He chose not to go into the incident in Chicago, when he left her alone on a street corner. “I promise,” he repeated. “And the third thing? You said there were three things I need to promise you.”
“Yeah,” said Conor. “And this is important. You know by now that Caitlin is a very determined kid. Once she gets an idea in her head, she follows it religiously. I mean religiously. You know what I’m saying?”
“Yes,” said Jake. “I do.”
“Well, here’s my phone number,” Conor said, writing it down on a movie ticket stub. “If Caitlin ever gets to be too much for you, I want you to promise me that you won’t leave her before calling me so we can come get her. She’ll fall hard, and her family will need to pick up the pieces.”
“Well, I can assure you that—” Jake started to say. “Stop talking and listen,” said Declan.
“I mean it, Rosner,” said Conor. “In the dead of night, no matter where you are in the world, you call me, and we’ll come get her. No questions asked. You may think you love her now, but maybe that will change. No idea. But she is never to be left alone. You call me.”
“I’m sure it’ll never come—” “Rosner. Promise me you’ll call.”
Jake read the room, or the car seat, and decided it’d be best to cooperate.
“I promise,” Jake said. There was a long pause.
“Umm, do you want me to punch myself in the face or something, so it’ll look like you roughed me up?”
“Do whatever you want,” Declan said. “But that sounds pretty stupid. I’d have hoped that Caitlin had found somebody smarter than that.”
“Get out of the car, go back to Caitlin, and good luck with everything,” Conor said.
“Umm. Thank you, sir,” said Jake. Declan got out of his way, and Jake could not exit the car fast enough. He jogged away from the BMW, then turned around to wave goodbye, but it was already driving away down Nineteenth Street.
Not for the first time, nor the last when it came to Cait, Jake asked himself, What the fuck just happened?
Jake reached his Volkswagen Rabbit. Cait, sitting in the passenger’s seat, unlocked the driver’s-side door for him. He climbed in, started the engine, and pulled out onto Nineteenth Street without saying a word.
“Well?” asked Cait. “What happened?” “Nothing,” said Jake.
Cait suspected something did, indeed, happen, but she was not certain she wanted to know. So, she dropped the subject and never asked him again.
“Jacob?” she said. “I know what we should do now.”
“So do I, Caity,” said Jake. “But I want to hear you say it.” “Let’s busk,” she said.
“My thoughts exactly,” said Jake.
“Where?” asked Cait. “Not Chicago. That’s still too close to my family.”
“The only place musicians can go to see if they really have what it takes,” said Jake.
Then, they both said the next three words at the same time. “New York City.”
Jake hopped onto Route 92, the Centennial Expressway. He drove a few miles south to the on-ramp to I-280, which led to I-80 East. From there, it was all the same highway until New York.
Howard Lovy is an author, book editor, and journalist who specializes in Jewish issues. As a book editor, he works with authors of fiction and nonfiction, with a particular focus on Jewish themes and voices. He is also the nonfiction editor at Judith and hosts podcasts for the Alliance of Independent Authors. His commentaries have appeared in The Jerusalem Post, Longreads, Publishers Weekly, The Jewish Daily Forward, the Jewish Telegraphic Agency, and other publications. His novel, Found and Lost: The Jake and Cait Story, is an exploration of music, aging, faith, and second chances. You can find him on his website or his Substack, Emet-Truth. You can buy a copy of Found and Lost: The Jake and Cait Story HERE.
What five tiny delights lift your spirits and make you happy?
Walking my dog, Henry, on wooded trails
Embarrassing my two sons
Discovering a book that makes me literally laugh out loud
Writing
Running
What five tiny JEWISH delights lift your spirits and make you happy?
Lighting the menorah I inherited from my mother (Z”L)
Listening to Leonard Cohen
Connecting with Jews around the world through my work
Seder with my six brothers and their families, and telling the same “jokes” every year
Brisket
I read this novel and loved it!