We Lost Him
It has been over seven years since we last saw Josh Orr.
He came into our Theater Arts class sometime in the winter, in the middle of the week. He just appeared. He had shaggy blonde hair styled so that the bangs were over one of his eyes, and wore skinny jeans and, if I recall correctly, hooded sweatshirts. He hailed from California, and was, at the time, living temporarily in a hotel, which had cookies that he liked.
Katie and I were going to buy him one of those Christmas light palm trees, so that he'd feel at home during the holidays. We were smitten, I think. This kid was absolutely adorable, and sweet, and kept his head up even though he must've been so lost.
Then one day, after a week or two of joining us in class, he didn't come back. He just disappeared. We were upset, of course. But then time intervened and we carried on. Katie and I grew apart ourselves - college and life happened. But every time I see a Christmas palm tree, I think of him.
Perhaps because it's still relatively close to Christmas, or maybe it's something else entirely, I remembered him again last night when Katie and I were looking through our yearbooks. We were talking about something else entirely, and then I turn to her and say, loudly, at one o'clock in the morning, "Josh Orr!"
We tried to compile what we knew about him - which isn't much, as you can see. No one told us what happened to him and now we have this deep urge to find out. There are some speculations: that he was arrested, or part of the witness protection program, or in the middle of his parents' divorce. or (as my former boss suggested) incognito like 21 Jump Street. But we really have no idea. Facebook is proving unhelpful.
To be honest, we were worried that we might have made him up, jointly. That we dreamed this poor boy into existence. We've had it confirmed, through a handful of conversations, that others remember him as well. Thank goodness.
I hope we find him, and discover that he's a superhero alien.
He came into our Theater Arts class sometime in the winter, in the middle of the week. He just appeared. He had shaggy blonde hair styled so that the bangs were over one of his eyes, and wore skinny jeans and, if I recall correctly, hooded sweatshirts. He hailed from California, and was, at the time, living temporarily in a hotel, which had cookies that he liked.
Katie and I were going to buy him one of those Christmas light palm trees, so that he'd feel at home during the holidays. We were smitten, I think. This kid was absolutely adorable, and sweet, and kept his head up even though he must've been so lost.
Then one day, after a week or two of joining us in class, he didn't come back. He just disappeared. We were upset, of course. But then time intervened and we carried on. Katie and I grew apart ourselves - college and life happened. But every time I see a Christmas palm tree, I think of him.
Perhaps because it's still relatively close to Christmas, or maybe it's something else entirely, I remembered him again last night when Katie and I were looking through our yearbooks. We were talking about something else entirely, and then I turn to her and say, loudly, at one o'clock in the morning, "Josh Orr!"
We tried to compile what we knew about him - which isn't much, as you can see. No one told us what happened to him and now we have this deep urge to find out. There are some speculations: that he was arrested, or part of the witness protection program, or in the middle of his parents' divorce. or (as my former boss suggested) incognito like 21 Jump Street. But we really have no idea. Facebook is proving unhelpful.
To be honest, we were worried that we might have made him up, jointly. That we dreamed this poor boy into existence. We've had it confirmed, through a handful of conversations, that others remember him as well. Thank goodness.
I hope we find him, and discover that he's a superhero alien.