1:54 pm - Wednesday, Sept. 17, 2003
A new Milestone: Boy is brought home by the police
This is a story about Boy getting lost. He does this now and then, at stores, zoos, fairs�. He knows what to do by heart. He�s had enough practice that I don�t become frantic the second I lose sight of him anymore. Boy doesn�t seem to get too panicy anymore either. But to understand this story you need to know that Boy does, in fact, become very panicy if he thinks that he, I, Simon or any combination thereof might be Lost. That�s Lost- completely ignorant of where one is and where they should be going or how to get there. If I�m driving and insinuate that I�m unsure of which way to go, Boy instantly begins to ask if we�re lost, and how lost are we, and shortly he will begin to wail and bemoan the surity that not only will we never get where we�re going, we�ll never find our way home either. Ok. Maybe I exaggerate a little, but not much.

This is what happened from my perspective- Boy is supposed to come home by 8:00. He usually comes home at 8:30 when his watch alarm goes off, but we had asked for him to come home early that night. I get on the phone to talk to my Granddad. About 8:15 Simon comes in and says that the neighbor kid can�t find Boy - I say �Tell him to look in the church parking lot� where they usually play. I don�t understand why I had to be consulted about this. When I finish talking to my Granddad at 8:30 Boy still isn�t home, and Simon says that the neighbor kid seems to have been playing with Boy and then didn�t know where he went. This is odd. I holler for Boy. Nothing. I decide I�m going to have to go hunt him down myself. It�s odd that Boy didn�t come home even when his watch went off. I feel a little mad that he ignored it. I�m walking down the street and think that it�s odd I don�t hear kids. I get around the corner and there are no kids in the parking lot. I�m stumped. Where could he be? Worry starts to snuggle in next to the anger. I holler from this new vantage point thinking that maybe he met someone new and went to their yard�. Nothing. Now I�m walking home without Boy. I can�t think where he could be. There�s no place left to look. I am approaching panic. I think about calling the police. I�ll have to call the police- I don�t know where my son is� I�ll call the police and then as I�m talking to the cops Boy will walk up with that surprised look on his face without a clue that it was all because he didn�t tell me where he was going. As I�m thinking this a cop car pulls up to the stop sign ahead of me. I think about talking to him, but then decide he�s probly going to go bust hors up the street. Then I think, why is his trunk open? And then I see Boy�s yellow bike in the trunk and I know he�s been hit by a car. The cop is going to my house to tell me Boy�s been hit by a car and I rush up to the window and I�m ready to cry and I say �Where is he? Is he alright?� and there he is in the backseat. The policeman lets him out of the car and I hug him so hard. Now Simon is coming down the street and the neighbor kids are running up and the policeman is asking me Boy�s birthday� Simon has to tell him Boy�s b-day and mine too because I can�t remember.

�But what happened?�, you ask. And now we get the story from Boy�s perspective: Boy is playing at the neighbor kid�s house. Neighborkid�s Mom agrees to take them on a bike ride. Boy decides it is ok to go with them without telling us because a grown-up is going and they say they�re not going far. Boy rides with them downtown to a park where he caught a crawfish. Cool. Everyone begins the ride home. Neighborkid�s Mom�s bike breaks, so she hollers at the kids to stop. They don�t hear her and continue up the hill. They do eventually realize she�s missing, at which point the eldest decides to turn around and go look for her. Boy and neighborkid are riding home by themselves. Boy is worried. Neighbor kid knows the way home and proceeds to go there. Boy sees some landmarks he knows, but then neighborkid turns a different direction than Boy is used to going, and Boy becomes increasingly convinced he is lost. Halfway up the street (that is, in fact, an alternate route home) he breaks into tears. A woman who is gardening hears this and asks if he is lost. He approaches and tells her he is, since his mother has trained him that talking to strangers is ok, you just have to be careful about what you say and who you can trust, etc etc.. Neighborkid has been trained that talking to strangers is bad and takes off as if this woman is the wicked witch. The woman gets Boy�s phone number and tries to call us, but I was on the phone with my Granddad, remember?, so she can�t get through. She gets her husband to take Boy for a walk to see if he can�t find some familiar things to find his way home with. You�re wondering why Boy didn�t just tell him our address: he did, but nobody has heard of our street, including this guy. Boy is becoming convinced that he will never get home. He is in a near state of panic and can�t remember which way to go, even though we have been walking from that corner to home, now and then, since he was three. Finally the man and his wife agree that calling the police is what needs to be done. Boy is relieved. The policeman is driving him home (They know our street, oh yes they do, which tells you what kind of neighborhood I live in) and he sees me out the window, which is why the policeman waited for me to catch up to the car.

And that�s about it. There was a long discussion about the mistakes that were made, and how they could have been remedied. Boy wasn�t in trouble- he�d been scared enough that we knew he wouldn�t do that again� I hadn�t realized that he had grown so much that a new set of �what to do when you�re lost� rules were necessary. Deep down I kinda wanted him to sleep in the bed with us that night just so I could know he was alright.