They had some kind of award ceremony after school for me one day after Susy was recovered that my whole family went to, but I totally forgot and ended up riding the school bus home.
I wrote this piece for my 8th grade English class in 1996:
“Caw! Caw!” an annoying crow called. I picked up a rock and chucked it at that dirty little pest. The stone was on its way to hitting the bird, but the crow flew off before impact occured.
It was the morning of a typical school day and I was sleepy from staying up late the night before. After I finished tying my shoelaces and checked for any other unexpecting crows I walked to my bus stop.
When I reached the bus-stop there wasn’t anyone except this little blue car occupied by a few people, so I fiddled with my fingers and took a big breath of the refreshing mornig air.
Finally, after waiting a few more lonesome minutes, one of my bus-mates, Susy, came out and waited beside me with her Keropi pencil pouch in her right hand. I wanted to say something like a polite “Hello,” but my soft embarrased voice was drowned out by the little blue car that drove into our neiberhood street. I just stood their with my hands in my pocket and looked down at my shoes that kept blinking on and off.
Some awkward moments passed by and that little blue car didn’t seem as little. It pulled up besides the bus-stop and two gangster teenagers came out of the car, grabbed Susy’s shoulders and started pulling her toward the inside of the car. Crying out in terror, “Help! Help! Jeff! Please help me!” she hit her captors with her Keropi pencil box, but the captors barely felt the pain and kept pulling her in. My face turned blank. I’ve seen TV shows that has a hero that saves someone from being kidnapped by karate moves or with fists of fury, but I was too caught off guard to do anything brave. I was still in one of my morning stupors. She was being kidnapped before my eyes, but yet I couldn’t do a single thing. Each time I tried to think of something to help her, she just kept getting closer and closer toward the inside of the car until, finally, she was swept into the not so little car with an incredible force. She gave a last cry for help and then it was cut off by the car door. The car zoomed off at a high speed and through all that excitment I managed to get a glance at the car’s license plate number.
At the other end of the street, two of my other bus-mates, Randy and Christina, came out had a look of astonishment and surprise on their faces. “Did you just see that?!” Randy said with and exasperated voice.
“Yeah, I was right ther and I saw the license number. It’s KIDNPR.” I replied.
“Cool, it’s a good thing you saw that. You’d better write the number on some paper and tell the bus driver about this when she gets here.”
“Okay.” I pulled some paper out from my Jansport backpack and I wrote down the number
When I finished writing the number down as the bus drove in. “You’d never believe what just happened,” I told the bus driver as I walked in, “A girl at this bus-stop just got kidnapped,” I paused to see her facial expression turn terrifyed, “by a couple of teenagers in a car. I have the license number right here.” I handed her the license plate number and she took it from my hand.
“I’ll call up the school,” she responded.
She called up the school on her radio, told the office what happened, and the school called up the police. The bus driver said to me, “Wow, that was really smart for writing that license number.”
“Well, thank you.”
When some of the other bus passengers heard about what happened they started to go into an excited hysteria about the whole situation. There was a, “Maybe we’ll skip school today,” a, “This is so cool!” and a “A kidnapping?” but there was one girl, Susy’s best friend, that came out and asked what was happening.
The bus driver tried to explain to her gently, “You’re friend, Susy, got kidnapped. We’re trying the best we can do for the moment and we got the car’s license number, so don’t worry to much.”
Unfourtanatley, her friend did worry and she sat down crying between her hands.
When I took a seat on the crowded bus next to my friend he asked, “Did you see what happened?”
“Uh-huh. Someone just got kidnapped.”
“Do you think they’ll cancel school today?”
“Maybe, who knows?”
Before the kid could reply, the bus driver said to everyone on the bus, “Okay, everyone sit in your seat and keep your voices down. A police car will be coming soon to bring us to school. Remember to follow the bus rules.”
I had a few minutes while I sat down to collect my thoughts and sort out what happened. There was no remorse, anger, happiness, or cowardnice. I was... numb. I should had felt something, but what? I didn’t feel sad because I wasn’t a close friend of susy, and I didn’t get angry because there wasn’t nothing to get angry about.
By the time I got my bearings a police car parked in front of the bus. The officer stepped inside and said, “Everyone stay calm, we have received the car’s license number and we have several patrol cars searching this area for the car.” He said something to the bus driver then continued, “I’ll be in my car driving with you to your school.”
The police officer got into his car and we arrived at school. When we reached school grounds, the principal and security guard at our school came onto the bus and the principal said, “I want all of you to go to your classrooms. Your teachers will know where you have been, so you won’t need a note. For those who saw the actual kidnapping. You’ll be talking to us later in the day to give us information on this incident.”
I gulped down my anxiety. . I decided not to say anything and I walked off toward my class. Before I stepped off the bus, the bus driver said, “You’re going to be a real hero.”
“Yeah. I guess I will.”
Later that day, I was called into the office for a description of the events on that day. I told them everything to the best of my knowledge. They also questioned Susy’s sister and the two other people that witnessed the kidnapping. Susy was found a few hours later where she was returned to her family after a routine checkup at the local hospital. I got a hero’s thanks and received a certificate of accomplishment from Susy’s dad and the police department.
Through all of the events that would and should make any child cringe with fear. I didn’t feel any fear nor any feeling of accomplishment. I don’t know whether I was so scared that I blocked out all emotions or the fact that I didn’t think that writing a license number was so heroic. I just did what was needed and I thank God that nothing bad happened to Susy.