stranger. Unless Joe stopped her.
As Emily passed by, Joe’s small, pale
hand shot out and gripped the little girl’s forearm. Emily stopped and looked
at Joe, who was still seated in her blue plastic chair. For what seemed like a
very long moment, little Joe could not think of what to say.
She stared into Emily’s big brown eyes,
and would find out many years later that the memory of them would never vacate
her mind. Joe would remember every detail about Emily that day, from her
yellow-and-white flowered sundress to her crooked ponytails and frilly white
socks.
“Do you –” Joe began.
“Joe, let go of Emily. She has to go
now. You two can play tomorrow,” Miss Teresa said, cutting Joe off from asking
the question that could have changed everything.
Joe looked over at the stranger, who was
now watching her again, and couldn’t find the words to continue. In fact, her
mind seemed to escape her entirely and once more she was frozen with terror.
The stranger’s eyes, or rather that look behind them, demanded she keep
her mouth shut. He seemed to be silently challenging her, daring her to say
something foolish. At this point in life, Joe had yet to become a fool.
Poor Emily took the man’s hand and left
through the rainbow painted door that led to the lobby of the daycare, her
blond pigtails swaying innocently, her My Little Pony lunch bag dangling from
her hand, and little Joe just watched.
It took Joe ten minutes to come up with
her best solution, but that was ten minutes too long. When she arose from her
blue plastic chair and approached Miss Teresa she could barely get the words
through her lips.
“Muh-Muh-Mmm-Miss T-T-Teresa?” Joe said.
Teresa, a college kid with a love for
children said, “Yes, Joe?”
Joe took a deep breath, trying to force
the words out faster than they would come. “Eh-Eh-Emily told told told muh-me
that that huh-her mmm-ma-mother was t-t-taking her to a mm-m-movie today.
Sh-she said that that that they m-m-made sssspecial plans. That d-d-d-didn’t
la-look like her ma-ma-mommy,” Joe said. She was sweating now.
Miss Teresa looked down at the little
raven-haired girl and gave her shoulder a pat. “I’m sure Emily’s mother just
sent her uncle to pick her up because she was busy. Go play now, Joe.”
Joe felt like bursting into tears. She
didn’t know why, but somehow, it felt like time was seriously running out. She
grabbed Miss Teresa’s arm and locked her silver-blue gaze on the college kid.
Joe said, “C-c-call Eh-Emily’s m-mah-mother. P-p-pleeease.”
Later on, when the first policemen on
the scene asked Teresa why she thought to call Emily’s mother and yet hadn’t
thought to do so before releasing the child to a stranger, the college kid had
glanced over at Joe, who was still sitting in the blue plastic child’s chair.
Joe’s mother was the last to pick her up that day. For a moment, Joe thought
Miss Teresa was going to tell on her and her parents would end up finding out
about her sketch of the stranger, about everything. But the college girl didn’t
tell on Joe. She just said it struck her as strange after the two had left,
while sobbing and crying worse than Joe had ever seen. Over the next week, Joe
would see that spectacle trumped tenfold.
When Emily’s mother and father showed
up, Joe was still sitting in the blue chair. She was already horrified. She was
just too young to understand why. When the detectives took Joe aside to ask her
questions, it all finally began to sink in. Emily had been kidnapped. Before
that fateful Monday, Joe had never heard the word before in her five years of
life, but it was one of those that you only had to hear once.
During her brief interview with the
detectives, little Joe Knowe sat listening to the screams and cries of Emily’s
mother, who was in the front room of the daycare. The detective talking to Joe
had been a kind woman, and she placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder when a
particularly heart-wrenching wail from
As Emily passed by, Joe’s small, pale
hand shot out and gripped the little girl’s forearm. Emily stopped and looked
at Joe, who was still seated in her blue plastic chair. For what seemed like a
very long moment, little Joe could not think of what to say.
She stared into Emily’s big brown eyes,
and would find out many years later that the memory of them would never vacate
her mind. Joe would remember every detail about Emily that day, from her
yellow-and-white flowered sundress to her crooked ponytails and frilly white
socks.
“Do you –” Joe began.
“Joe, let go of Emily. She has to go
now. You two can play tomorrow,” Miss Teresa said, cutting Joe off from asking
the question that could have changed everything.
Joe looked over at the stranger, who was
now watching her again, and couldn’t find the words to continue. In fact, her
mind seemed to escape her entirely and once more she was frozen with terror.
The stranger’s eyes, or rather that look behind them, demanded she keep
her mouth shut. He seemed to be silently challenging her, daring her to say
something foolish. At this point in life, Joe had yet to become a fool.
Poor Emily took the man’s hand and left
through the rainbow painted door that led to the lobby of the daycare, her
blond pigtails swaying innocently, her My Little Pony lunch bag dangling from
her hand, and little Joe just watched.
It took Joe ten minutes to come up with
her best solution, but that was ten minutes too long. When she arose from her
blue plastic chair and approached Miss Teresa she could barely get the words
through her lips.
“Muh-Muh-Mmm-Miss T-T-Teresa?” Joe said.
Teresa, a college kid with a love for
children said, “Yes, Joe?”
Joe took a deep breath, trying to force
the words out faster than they would come. “Eh-Eh-Emily told told told muh-me
that that huh-her mmm-ma-mother was t-t-taking her to a mm-m-movie today.
Sh-she said that that that they m-m-made sssspecial plans. That d-d-d-didn’t
la-look like her ma-ma-mommy,” Joe said. She was sweating now.
Miss Teresa looked down at the little
raven-haired girl and gave her shoulder a pat. “I’m sure Emily’s mother just
sent her uncle to pick her up because she was busy. Go play now, Joe.”
Joe felt like bursting into tears. She
didn’t know why, but somehow, it felt like time was seriously running out. She
grabbed Miss Teresa’s arm and locked her silver-blue gaze on the college kid.
Joe said, “C-c-call Eh-Emily’s m-mah-mother. P-p-pleeease.”
Later on, when the first policemen on
the scene asked Teresa why she thought to call Emily’s mother and yet hadn’t
thought to do so before releasing the child to a stranger, the college kid had
glanced over at Joe, who was still sitting in the blue plastic child’s chair.
Joe’s mother was the last to pick her up that day. For a moment, Joe thought
Miss Teresa was going to tell on her and her parents would end up finding out
about her sketch of the stranger, about everything. But the college girl didn’t
tell on Joe. She just said it struck her as strange after the two had left,
while sobbing and crying worse than Joe had ever seen. Over the next week, Joe
would see that spectacle trumped tenfold.
When Emily’s mother and father showed
up, Joe was still sitting in the blue chair. She was already horrified. She was
just too young to understand why. When the detectives took Joe aside to ask her
questions, it all finally began to sink in. Emily had been kidnapped. Before
that fateful Monday, Joe had never heard the word before in her five years of
life, but it was one of those that you only had to hear once.
During her brief interview with the
detectives, little Joe Knowe sat listening to the screams and cries of Emily’s
mother, who was in the front room of the daycare. The detective talking to Joe
had been a kind woman, and she placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder when a
particularly heart-wrenching wail from
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