Becoming The Muse

When I was five years old I got lost, actually correction, my dad lost me.

My father had asked if I wanted to tag along while he did a couple of errands including some shopping. Of course, I quickly agreed as it also meant the privilege of picking out my snack of choice, than him just bringing back what he thought I might like. Also, why would parents think their child wants candy that looks like cigarettes, but I digress…

We left the car parked beneath a shady tree next to the Magistrates Court and we went to the TM Supermarket which was across the road. Just pointing that out so you know I knew exactly where we had left the car. While we were strolling down the supermarket aisles, my dad stopped to greet an old friend, but I didn’t get that particular memo, I kept walking.

When I realised my dad was no longer a few paces behind me, I turned around and walked back to where I actively remember seeing him. He wasn’t there! I did a sweep of the shop, checking from one aisle to the next and still nothing. I figured he was probably doing the same thing.

My next logical conclusion was to go back where the car was, figuring he would at least have to return to the car at some point, right? I was a smart kid.

The car wasn’t there!!

I stood for a second staring at the empty space where the car should have been. My mum worked in a Standard Chartered Bank branch just around the block from where I was. Just as I was about to head that way, I bumped into a police officer coming out from the Magistrates Court. He looked at me perplexed as to what I was doing there all by myself.

I was very short for my age and must have looked such a baby, granted at the age of 5, I was still a child but I looked much younger.

He asked if I was lost and I told him I was not lost but I could not find my dad. He wanted to take me to the Central Police Station because that’s where my parents would come to look for me or to report a missing child.

“But I am neither lost nor missing” I told the officer.

I explained to him my mum worked at a bank just around the block and I would be super grateful if he could help me to cross the road as I was a tad afraid of being runover by traffic… We hadn’t been taught to cross busy roads at kindergarten.

The police officer said he would accompany me to the bank, but if we did not find my mum, he would have to take me to the police station. I might have been young but I could tell he was sceptical, as we walked to the bank I outlined to him what we would do if we could not find my mother.

First, we would find a phone and call home, I knew the home phone number and then we would ask if my dad had returned or if there was anyone who could come pick me up. If not, he could accompany me home but on account of my being a child and him being a big strong adult, he would have to carry me. I knew the directions and I even knew our home address, so there!

He was quite impressed and a part of me feels that our encounter that day must be something he’ll also never forgot. He asked me what school I went to.

I told him I wasn’t old enough to go to school yet, but I did attend a creche and I asked him if he wanted the directions to that too, but it would be no good as it was a weekend and there would be no one there. I also pointed out that he still needed to carry me so we could walk faster to get to the bank on account of Saturdays being a half day, so they closed early.

We made it to the bank before closing time. My mum was a teller and I saw her behind the counter number 4 as soon as we entered the banking hall.

“That’s my mum” I pointed out.

I cant imagine what must have gone through her head seeing her son being carried by a policeman.

Dad showed up at the bank sometime later to finally report to my mum that he had lost me. 😂

Sometimes it’s the world that thinks we are lost and yet we know exactly where we are.

~B