11/10/10

The boys who didn't cry wolf... or much of anything at all really.

     I have a backlog of things I should post about, especially since this is me attempting to keep in touch with old friends, but I have been thinking about one thing in particular all day today.
     You know when people scream in stores or parking lots and no one pays attention? I think ignoring such cries is ridiculous. From a very young age our parents and other authority figures tell us that yelling is the way to get attention if kidnapped, threatened, hurt, or other wise endangered. It took me a long time to understand what has dulled us as a society to plaintive cries for help and the answer presented itself to me in the form of a childhood story - The Boy Who Cried Wolf.
     Most, if not all, know this story. A boy from a village cries "wolf" and people come running to protect him. He is told not to cry for help unless help is really needed. He cries "wolf" again. There is once again no wolf. This goes on long enough that when there really is a wolf no one answers his cry. The boy dies. The moral of this story is supposed to be "don't lie", (well, that's not the Aesop version of the moral, but you get the idea) but I think the moral of this story should be "don't yell like something is wrong when everything is perfectly fine".
     I do not care how much fun it might be to run through a department store yelling for help like someone is chasing you with horrid intentions. Such actions make people less likely to pay attention when something truly sinister is occurring. Think about how little time people have to scream when being abducted. They might have time for one full scream of the word "help"... maybe. They might not have time to say the entire word. Would you notice? I think that on most days I would just continue on with life, probably a little ticked off that someone was yelling. Last week was different. I went to work and began my daily, never ending task when suddenly I was tuned in to every scream in the store.
     I still am uncertain why my senses were so heightened. Every time some little kid or frat boy yelled I was scared for them and almost ran in their direction. Every time the yell was only in play, and every time I tried to listen a little less.
     Towards the end of my shift I was standing behind the counter helping a customer when two little boys ran up and one said "Can you help us find-" and ran off. I figured their parents had sent them to look for something and he had seen it while he was asking. It would not have been the first time. Little kids are way better at finding things in retail stores. I kept working but something was nagging at me. A few minutes later the boys came back. I noticed that the youngest one looked scared. The older one was probably only five or six but he marched up to the counter again and said "We're lost. Can you help us find who we're with?"
    I think my mouth actually fell open. I thought 'Why haven't their parents told someone they were missing? Why did they pick me? Why did they run away the first time? What the heck am I supposed to do now?' and a lot of other things all at once. I told the boy that of course I would help him and at this point a woman marched up and asked me to do a price check for her... I mean, seriously? This one kid is crying, there is obviously no adult, I'm trying to help them and you stop me to ask how much something with a price label costs... ugh. I told her where she could find a scanner and went back to more important matters.
     It turned out that the boys had not come with their parents but a baby sitter - whose name they did not remember. I radioed for help and took the boys up to front of the store. No response on the radio. No one to help when I got to the front of the store. This is about the time the youngest one starting saying that he just wanted to "get out". He ran for the door. I followed. Because I was carrying a store radio the alarms went off. Of course people tried to stop me even though they clearly saw the little kids running without parents. Grr. I tried to explain and told them I was going right back into the store and as soon as this was all sorted they could do whatever they liked with me. They still tried to stop me. I finally got the kid to come back. His older brother was actually very helpful in talking him back into the store. We went back to the front of the store and I finally got some help, and the youngest child ran again. Again I had to deal with the alarms. The people trying to stop me were more forceful and the kid actually got into the parking lot this time. I was upset, but somehow the kid decided to come back before he was run over.
     As I brought him back to where his brother was waiting with my help their babysitter was rounding the corner as well. It was all over in probably fifteen or twenty minutes but I was relieved to be done with it. I kept wondering if I would have paid any attention to those kids on a different day when I was dulled to the world a little. I kept thinking of all of the horrible things that could have happened. Could still happen to other little kids. It drove me a little nuts.
     Anyway, all this to say - next time someone yells, pay attention. If they are in trouble, help. If they are in no danger, tell them the story of the boy who cried wolf.

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