After school we hung out together in my stuffy attic

watching TV, drinking juice boxes, and snacking on the heavenly oranges my mom cut up for us waiting for the commercials to end. 

“On everyday at 5 pm,” we quoted the broadcaster together. “So stay-y-y-y tuned!’

“I’m gonna be on there some day,” he told me matter-of-factly, tapping his sticky finger on the TV. 

“What, a movie star?” I asked him, and when he nodded violently I said, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

And he was. There he smiled on TV, grinning from ear to ear as he always was. His photo made the papers, his name in every headline and on the back of every milk carton. He was everywhere. 

I waited for his section every night. When Mom told me to turn off the TV and go to bed I barked at her to go away, that this was important. Everyday at 5 pm, there he was. I couldn’t believe it. 

The broadcaster's voice came again: “Officials say they are still looking for a missing 12 year old boy by the name of Ryan Baker. Locals say they saw him last walking home from his friend's house four weeks ago. If you have any tips, please report them to officials.”

‘I need a little truth, peace, and justice!” His mother wailed, begging God to find her sweet, angelic baby boy. But instead, she felt stonewalled for nobody came.