Page 25 of Diluted Truths
Together we made our way to the front steps. This moment felt monumental.The calm before the storm. It was something I had never experienced, but I knew something was coming. Just as I was going to tell Jackie we should turn around, she rang the doorbell.
A small blonde girl whipped open the door and stared right at me. “If you’re here to be mean to my mom or brother, go away.”
I was shell shocked. I had never met this child yet she was giving me a stern talking to.
“Hi, I’m Will. Is your mom home?”
“Not for you.”
Jackie stifled a laugh and came into the view of the girl. “Hi Nancy, do you remember me?”
“Jackie!” The little girl ran to Jackie and wrapped her small arms around Jackie’s legs. “What are you doing here? Are you here to play with me?”
“Nancy! You aren’t supposed to answer the door to strangers!” A woman in her late twenties yelled as she came into view of the door.
Janice, I assumed, had dark circles under her eyes. It was obvious she was exhausted and most likely overworked. One of the few bits of knowledge I did have was that she was a single mom to her two kids. That was already exhausting, add her son's disappearance and the harassment they have been receiving, I was impressed she was standing. “Hi, Jackie. I’m assuming you’re Dr. William Bly?”
“That’s me, you can call me Will,” I responded as I shook her hand.
She led us into her home. It looked well lived in, but homey. An older kitchen with dishes still in the sink, the smell of mac and cheese lingered in the air, and the radio was playing aWham!song. The walls were lined with pictures.
Dozens of Nancy, many of Janice, others with whom I assumed were grandparents. However, there was none of Joey. Despite the lack ofpictures of the young boy I was here to meet, the home felt happy. Not like a place where a young boy had vanished just eight months prior.
Jackie was making small talk with Janice, and the young mother visibly became more relaxed in her presence. This was just another reason Jackie was incredible at her job. People trusted her and wanted to be around her, for good reason.
I continued observing the room around me when Joey came into view. He was sullen compared to his sister Nancy. His glasses, a size too big, sat on the rim of his nose as he looked up to me and met my eyes. “Who are you?”
I squatted down to meet at his level. “My name is Will. Are you Joey?”
“Yes. What do you want?” Joey asked, almost skeptical of me.
I knew I had to treat the young boy carefully. “I’m here to talk to you, if that’s okay.”
He took a second as he looked at me. With a slight nod, he turned and walked away. I took that as my cue to follow him. I was led up the stairs and into what must have been his bedroom. There was a small bed across the back wall with a nightstand and a closet door directly across from the bed. There were glow-in-the-dark stars hung on the ceiling. “I always wanted these as a kid.”
I returned my attention to Joey, who was sitting crossed legged on his bed. “This is where I was when everyone says I disappeared.”
I was taken back by the sudden change in topic. Joey was nothing like other young boys his age. His eyes bore the shadows of what he experienced. His wording also caught my attention. It wasn’t where he thinks he was when he disappeared, it was where everyone else tells him.
I sat myself next to him on the small bed as I began my questions. “Do you remember what happened that day?”
“Yes.”
Wait, what?
“I thought you didn’t know what happened while you were gone?” I asked.
He shrugged a response. “I do remember the day it happened. No one believes me.”
I was able to begin to see the true child next to me. He wasn’t emotionless or sullen, he was scared.
Terrified.
“I will. I promise.”
Slowly the young boy looked me in the eyes, as if trying to see if he could tell if I was lying. He must have come to his conclusion because he continued, “I didn’t get stolen. I was here, then the closet opened and our friend came in to play. He always comes during play time. We were playing in the closet with him, and then I blinked and I wasn’t here anymore. I was gone.”
His friend? I know this wasn’t written in any police report, or communicated to me. This would have been the first suspect if it was documented somewhere.
