Kibbles and BIts: The Part Where I'm Heading to The Pokey

Part I of this story can be found here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was quite fortunate as it turns out. The Man wasn't one of the Hillside Stranglers.  So I at least had that going for me.

We pulled into a parking lot and he opened my door and carried me into the police station.

This was my first visit to the police station, and while it wasn't altogether a bad one, it seemed to have turned me off to a life of crime, making me think that perhaps every four-year old should take a field trip there.
The Man set me on a chair and then went over to talk to the officer at the desk.  A moment later,  a different officer came over and carried me into a back room.  I didn't see any other prisoners along the way, and I also never saw The Man Who'd Rescued Me again. (See how quickly I elevated his status?!)

I was feeling considerably relieved by now. The officer helping me seemed nice. He set me down on a table and asked me lots of questions as he washed The Blood off my scrapes and stuck on Band-Aids.  Plus, bonus, he gave me a Popsicle AND a lollipop...which was almost as good as Christmas in my book. I was busy working on the Popsicle while he questioned me.

"What's your name?"

"Blue" I told him.

"How old are you Blue?"

I held up four fingers and kept licking.

"Do you know where you live?"

"At our house." (duh.)

"How did you end up in the middle of the street?"
Ahh, he'd finally gotten around to the tricky question that I knew could decide my fate.  And while it was a pleasant surprise to find that they had popsicles and lollies in the pokey, I wasn't sold on staying there.

"I fell out when I was playing hide and seek with my brother."

About half an hour later, dad finally arrived, with Mike trailing behind.
He explained to the officer how Mike and I had been playing hide and seek in the back of the car.  "When Mike finished counting, he started looking for her."

"Daddy, I can't find Blue." he said.

"She's hiding." dad had replied.

"But I can't find her.", Mike insisted.

"Keep looking" Dad encouraged as he drove along. 

Mike re-checked both sides, just in case he'd missed me in the dark somehow.
After further frustration on Mike's part, our dad finally said, "Okay Blue, you win.  Come on out."

No response.

Knowing me to be highly competitive, Daddy asked me to come out a few more times, with the same result.

They had driven a couple miles from my intersection by then.  Dad pulled into a parking lot, lifted up the seat, and confirmed that indeed, no Blue there.  Which meant he had no idea where his kid was!  

Mike wasn't of much help, under the circumstances (Dutifully counting. Eyes closed.  At least this whole incident confirmed that he hadn't been cheating.)  With no small amount of panic, Dad re-traced their route, but there was no sign of me.

Of course this was long before the advent of mobile phones. (Side note number one: It was during the year that I was born that the first 9-1-1 call was made.  This momentous event took place in Haleyville, Alabama, when the Alabama Speaker of the House placed a call from City Hall to the town police station where the U.S. Rep was waiting.  He answered the call on a big red phone with a cheery "Hello!", after which they rendezvoused for coffee and donuts, proving the long-standing connection between All Things Police and The Donut Industry.

This was all well and good for the people of Haleyville, but this vital service wasn't available anywhere else so it wasn't doing my father any good on the night my story takes place. But in fact, it was during the very year of my story that the Federal Communications Commission [FCC] recommended that 9-1-1 be implemented nationwide.  Interesting coincidence? I like to think NOT.)

So back to my dad.  As a parent, I can easily imagine how distressing these minutes must have been for him.  I mean, for all he knew, I could be DEAD.  "Death by Hide and Seek!" the headlines would read.

Dad found a pay phone and started calling around.  I don't actually know if he called my mom to tell her the situation or not, but if it were me,  I'd have waited till I had more info beyond "Blue is missing and I don't know where she is," because once, when Bunch was about five, Doc took her skiing and while they were gone, he calls me to tell me that he "didn't know how it happened, but they were on a lift that had a stop half-way up the mountain, and he thought that they were both preparing to get off the chair at that half-way point, and so he did, but Bunch didn't." So our five-year old is on the big chair, WITH THE BAR UP, heading to the top of the mountain all by herself. And it's her first time on a chair lift!  And it's a long ride up to the top, and even longer and more difficult to the bottom!

It was at this point that Doc decides to call and tell me the situation. Which sent me into Mommy Panic Mode even though there was absolutely nothing I could do about the situation except hit my knees and pray, which might have helped because as any regular readers of my blog know, she lived to tell and all is well, but I think I would have preferred to be told the story once there was a happy ending, which is why I'm predicting that my mother would have preferred it, too, but I could be wrong about that.

 Upon hearing I was at the police station and not some hospital (or morgue!), they had come straight there to get me.

While Dad explained the situation to the officer, Mike was eying me with envy.  I had finished the Popsicle, and was working on the lollipop, acutely aware that he was jealous of my good fortune at getting a treat.  To my annoyance, the officer noticed Mike's interest in the lolli, and gave him one too.  After all, this was my dramatic situation.

Apparently, my dad's tale was convincing enough to the policemen that they decided I was free to go--No hard time for me!

(Side note number two: It was also during the year I was born that the first federal law requiring all vehicles (except buses) be fitted with seat belts was passed. But unfortunately, my Powers of Influence didn't have quite as expeditious an effect on seat belt use.   Laws requiring them weren't enacted by individual states until the late 1980's or 1990's in some cases. As of today, New Hampshire is the only state that doesn't have any seat belt laws at all. Live Free Or Die!)

This experience is, in fact, my earliest memory.