Code Adam

Just a normal $50 trip to Wal-Mart. Picked up a couple things and proceeded to the "Self Checkout". The boy did his normal play with the toys and touch all the candy at the checkout, Big Girl helped scan, and the baby sat in the seat grousing a bit. Turned to leave. The boy was gone.

I wasn't worried yet. I hollered his name. Usually a "Right here!" Not this time.

Gone.

I walked around the self check isle.

Gone.

Hollered his name again. Concerned now.

Gone.

The Wal-Mart employee standing guard at the self check looked at me and knew something was wrong. "Are you missing someone?"

Am I missing someone? Yes, I am. I'm missing my boy. I'm missing my boy. I'M MISSING MY BOY!

"Yes, I'm missing my three year old son." I can be calm.

"Do you want me to call a Code Adam?" she asks.

Code Adam? What's a Code Adam? Will it help me find my son? Will the police be called for neglect? Do I care at this point?

"Yes, please."

"What's he wearing?" she inquires.

Crap. What is he wearing? That was so long ago. Red shirt. Always a red shirt.

"A red shirt and jeans."

Over the intercom: "We Have a Code Adam, I Repeat Code Adam. Little Boy in a Red Shirt and Jeans. Code Adam. Blue Side."

Ten, maybe fifteen very tense seconds pass. Now I'm getting frantic, teary even. The employees that you can never find when you need them in the store start to appear.

Crap. I forgot. Blue Gap pullover. Look frantic and say - "He has a blue pullover over his red shirt."

Over the intercom: "We Have a Code Adam. Blue Pullover over the Red Shirt. Little Boy. Code Adam."

Two "suits" pop out of nowhere. One is sent to stand with me. Now I'm down right shit-my-pants scared and it shows. I can't look either of them in the eye. I'm afraid of what I'll see. Who loses their own child? He's never been unaccounted for this long. It's been maybe two minutes.

Someone from the Wal-Mart Vision Center pops around the corner of the entrance. I'd checked there. Twice. "Is this him?"

A very sad and very scared little boy pops around the corner. Blue Pullover. Red Shirt under. Jeans.

My boy.

I just scooped him up and hugged him.

"Mommy, I lost you," he told me.

"I know. You need to stay with me. I was very scared," was the best I could come up with.

"I scared too."

We uneventfully got to the car and got loaded up.

I cried the whole way home.