"GOODBYE BABY JOEY"

by BaddTeddy

Artwork by HopesHrt@aol.com

There had just been something different about this child, the first time I had seen his picture on TV. It was as though he was the son I had never had. It was something in his smile. It felt as if he was looking right out at me trying to tell me something. I don't know why I felt this with Joey. I mean, there are thousands of missing children in need of help but why Joey? Was it the way he was already a big boy, and yet still had the magic sparkle that you only see in a baby's eyes? Why would this one child stand out from the rest? How had he touched my heart where so many others had not? I'm not sure I know the answer, I just know that he did.

So, I "got involved". At first, I thought it would feel good and others would want to help. I thought people would respect me for what I was doing, and I guess on some inner level they did, but they refused to admit it publicly. It's just not good office politics to do something "unreasonable" or "kooky". Let's face it, putting up posters and asking the owners of businesses to put up flyers for a child who disappeared over a thousand miles away, did not exactly qualify as common sense. This definitely earned me a few strange looks. But, to call a missing children's agency and to ask them to send me the flyers of a child who is missing so far away, while there are children missing here in town, that's not just unreasonable, it's asking for people to start talking. To top it all off, I had to go and put Joey's picture on my desk, a picture of a child who most people had assumed was dead, and who would never in a million years be found in this town. Now, that was asking for people to talk.

At first, people were polite about it. Some even took the flyers I handed them, though I imagine most just threw them in the trash. The businesses did put up the posters in their windows, but a week later took them down to be replaced by signs for car washes by the local band kids, or by ads touting some new candy that looked like a bug and tasted like a rainbow.

Soon, I became the talk of the office, just a little gossip back and forth, a little polite humor. That, too, got out of hand over time. The jokes got crueler. The humor no longer made me laugh. I often thought of giving up, but I never did until today. Today had been the worst. While I was home, laying all snuggled up in my bed, some cruel person had sneaked in during the night and played the role of "artiste", taking Joey's flyer from it's assigned space on my cubicle wall, and leaving their artwork on my desk. They had changed Joey's hair color to red. They had given the "alleged" abductor a mustache, a beard, and they shaved his head with an eraser. But the worst part were those glasses, the glasses that Joey now wore. They were so huge that they made him look bug-eyed and nearly blind. Joey had lost his magical look and now looked like a caricature of a cartoon character.

Yes, it was time to give up. It would feel good to be free of people's stares. It would feel good to laugh with people, instead of being laughed at by them. It would feel good to give up hope, and the pain that comes along with hoping. It would feel good to sleep at night.

I reached for Joey's picture, it was time to end it. I tried, Joey, I really tried. But it was time to give up hope. I'm sorry, my little friend. All the adults around the world and I have failed you. We let you down. We didn't bring you home. There will be no more playing with Scooter, no happy smiles, no ice cream or candy. Joey will be just another missing child whose disappearance will forever remain a mystery, a mystery that will soon be forgotten.

With tears in my eyes, I placed his picture in the trash and painfully, I finally said good-bye to baby Joey. That done, I turned to work, just as the office door opened. It looked like it was time to go back to work and forget what could have been. Suddenly, strange things began to happen. The person walking through the door was a reporter. She looked around and then headed straight for my desk, with pad and pencil in hand. Behind the reporter was a man with a camera. She ran up to me with her great big reporter smile, and asked me, "How does it feel to be a hero?" I didn't understand the question and started to tell her so. Heads were beginning to turn in the office. I felt like I had been put on the spot and I didn't know why she was here. It was obviously some kind of mistake, so I started to ask her why she was here and then the door swung open again. This time it was a television news crew. The first reporter headed towards my desk and was asking the same question, "How does it feel to be a hero?"

By now the office was in quite a stir. All work had ceased for the moment as everyone edged their way to my desk, listening in while they pretended not to. It was getting to be quite a crowd and I still had no clue about what was going on. Each time I started to ask what was going on, the reporters reached for their microphones and kept asking me the same question, "How does it feel to be a hero?"

All told, there were now almost a dozen reporters and camera people surrounding me. The office was agape with staring eyes. No one had any idea what was going on. Why were all these reporters here and why were they staring at me? Why were they calling me a hero?

I could take it no longer. I stood up, the camera was swinging towards me, the microphones following and all eyes upon me. I proceeded to ask everyone for some silence as I turned to the first reporter and I told her that they had all made some kind of mistake, and again asked her why she was here? She looked at me with tears of joy in her eyes and said, "You don't know? You honestly don't know?" I answered back that I had no clue. That is when she said the words I had been yearning to hear for over a year. She said, "They found Baby Joey this morning and he's alive!"

I stood there speechless for a moment, with the cameras following my every move, and then I collapsed into my chair with tears streaming down my cheeks. I looked up and realized that I was not alone, that the lady reporter was crying happy tears also. I looked around the office, to see that many of my coworkers were also in tears. But my mind was in a whirl. I didn't see those around me. What I saw was a face, the face of a little boy with eyes that sparkled and shone, eyes that said, "I need a hug." With tears on my face, I asked if Joey was all right. The reporters all rushed to answer at once and I couldn't make heads or tails of what they were saying. But I finally understood that Joey had been found and he was just fine. That is when my heart was filled with joy.

I still did not understand why all the reporters were here, and after throwing Joey's picture in the trash I sure didn't feel like a hero. So I looked back at the lady reporter and finally said what was on my mind. I told her that I was thrilled that Joey was home. I thanked her for bringing me the good news, then told her I didn't know why she had come here, or why she was calling me a hero. I pointed to Baby Joey's picture in the trash and said, "I'm no hero, I gave up hope."

A look of wonder crossed that lady's face and soon spread to all the other reporters. They obviously knew something I didn't. The other office workers were obviously as bewildered as I was. It became so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop as she bent over to retrieve Joey's picture from the trash. She handed me the missing children's flyer and said, "Don't you see something strange about this flyer?" I looked and said, "Yes, someone played a cruel joke and drew graffiti all over Joey and his abductor, which was probably someone's idea of a joke." The eyes of all my office workers suddenly turned to look to the floor. It's amazing how many interesting things you can find to look at on the floor when you are feeling guilty or ashamed.

The reporter said, "It's not a joke. Last night, a man who belongs to the office cleaning crew was cleaning your desk when he saw Baby Joey's picture. He wasn't sure why, but he thought he recognized Joey and the man in the picture. But somehow, Joey and the abductor looked different to him than he remembered them. So he took some colored pencils from your drawer and added red hair and those big glasses to Joey's face. He was almost sure that he did in fact know where Joey was, but wanted to be certain. That's when he drew the beard and mustache on the abductor and that is when he was sure he knew where they were. It turns out that the abductor had disguised Joey, making him dye his hair red and wear great big eyeglasses so that people would not recognize him."

At this point, I'd been sitting there completely stunned and even asked, "Is this some kind of joke?" My office co-workers began examining their clothes for lint, the walls for cracks, and flaws in the paint. More than a few broke down into muffled sobs. The reporters assured me it was no joke and that Joey had indeed been found. The night cleaning man had seen his picture on my office wall. He had sat at my desk and made changes to the pictures just to be sure that it was whom he thought it was. It was then that he had used my phone to call the police.

I looked at Joey's picture and started to cry because I had given up. I had nearly failed this little boy. The office workers and reporters were all clapping and applauding, all seemingly proud of me and yet, I felt ashamed, because I felt I had given up on Joey when I threw his poster in the trash.

My phone rang and broke the silence that had fallen in my office. On the other end were Joey's parents. They were calling to thank me for saving their son, and I told them the whole story. I told them how I had tried and tried, how I had felt an affinity with Joey, and how I was thrilled that Joey was home safe and sound. I also told them I was ashamed of how I had given up and thrown Joey's picture in the trash and about my shame in believing I had let Joey down, but they said they understood. They had felt like giving up many times themselves. They had felt full of hope some days, and like giving up on others. They also said that everyone else had given up on Joey long before I did. They said as far as they knew I was the only person in my town who had still been looking for Joey. They told me that if it had not been for me, Joey would not have been home. Two days later I got a call from Joey, calling just to say "thank you".

Now, a year later, Joey's poster still hangs on my office wall, but next to it is a picture of Joey and me standing with his parents, and next to Joey's picture hangs another flyer, only this time, it is the picture of a little girl.

 Editing was courtesy of Coquiprfld and CRITIRX1,and the project was coordinated by Sasskittn.  Permission is granted to forward "Good-Bye Baby Joey" and to post it to websites, but the right to publish the story remains the property of the author.