Bo is back in the action...what's she been up to? I shall say right up front that not only do not own Pixar, but I don't own Facebook either! All hail the Omnipotent Social Networking Site. Also, don't own Risk or any rights to the Boxcar Children or Jane Austen...
Stalker
-July, 2011-
Ellie was tossing a few final things into her purse for the day. An empty water bottle, bus pass (probably wouldn't need it), gum, iPod, cell phone...
Bo tried to keep from laughing as she watched, because Ellie always packed her purse in exactly the same order without realizing it.
Ellie frowned and looked around the room, chewing her lip. "What was I gonna take..."
"Lotion, Ellie," Bo muttered, smiling. Ellie never heard her when she spoke, but Bo was convinced that Ellie heard some voice answer in her head when she threw hypothetical questions at her, or started raging about the injustice of gas prices. All the same, Bo had developed the bad habit of answering Ellie's questions out loud - softly.
"Right! New lotion bottle," Ellie said, diving at the mall bag next to her desk. "I swear I'm getting Alzheimers, Mary," she told her doll as she shoved the blue bottle into her bag and flipped off the bedroom light. "I've gotta go give the kids a spelling test."
After the door shut behind her, Bo waited her customary five minutes before moving. Three minutes later, Ellie's mom opened the door, crossed the room and pulled open the curtains and cracked the window, then turned and left again.
"The coast is clear," Bo said, using the familiar term Woody used to when Andy had left the bedroom. Her sheep bleated and began scuttling across the dresser to examine Ellie's new eyeshadow quad.
It was time for her usual morning snooping. Using her crook, Bo made her way across the room and up onto the desk where Ellie's laptop was still open to her Facebook profile. She opened a new tab and typed in Ellie's blog URL with her crook.
When Ellie was a teenager, Bo had read her journal. Now she read her blog and "stalked" her Facebook account. If she'd had anyone else to talk to, she wouldn't have been such a snoop, but Ellie was all she had. At first it just kept her from going crazy, but now it was fairly entertaining. Besides, it kept her apprised of what was going on in Ellie's hectic life now that she was in college. She knew what movies she was watching, how work was going, if the car was broken, and who she was dating.
Bo grinned as she used her crook to click on the laptop's mousepad. Three semesters ago, Ellie had met – of all the people in the world – Andy. They'd taken a communications class together. She had been in her second junior semester and he had been at the tail end of his senior year. Andy had actually asked her out after the semester was over, and now Andy was one of the Five Things Ellie Talked About: Work, School, Andy, Car, and Europe.
Bo had been bursting with curiosity about Woody when she'd discovered this 'Small World' incident, but it wasn't like Andy frequently talked about the toys he played with as a child to his girlfriend. He was nearly 22, for heaven's sake.
Ellie's blog, "Peanut Butter and Jelly," hadn't been updated. There was still the picture of Ellie and Andy sitting on the lawn, grinning, and a paragraph about how frustrating 26 seven-year-olds in the same room could be.
She shook her head and went back to the Facebook profile. "It's funny," she said to herself, "when Molly was nine I started worrying about being gotten rid of. And Ellie's a grown woman in college, and I don't think she'll ever get rid of me." Of all the ironies, she mused, scanning the page for a status update.
"Ellie Jones is hoping they remember how to spell 'college.'"
Ellie was doing an internship as a teacher's aid in a second grade classroom. She'd been lucky to get the position; it was hard to come by year-round schools that would fit into a college schedule.
Bo continued down the page. "Ellie Jones uploaded album 'Summer Fun' on 7/2/2011. Ellie Jones, Andy Davis, Bonnie, and Very Handsome Cowboy are tagged in this album."
"What on earth have you two been up to?" Bo chuckled and clicked on the album. The first couple of pictures were of Ellie and Andy sitting on a green lawn, then a few of a young girl holding up various toys. In one, the girl, apparently Bonnie, was pointing at some cardboard boxes colored on to look like houses. Bo smiled, remembering when Andy had done that as a child, and wondered if he'd given Bonnie the idea. The caption read, "Bonnie gives us the grand tour of 'Green River City.'" And then, "Bonnie and Very Handsome Cowboy are tagged in this photo."
There wasn't anyone else in the picture except Bonnie, a cloth doll, a cardboard house, and a blue triceratops. Bo moved the cursor around the picture idly, waiting for the other tag to pop up. In the top left corner, the little white text box appeared, and Bo moved the cursor and looked hard at the screen. It was a boot. A tiny cowboy boot with a spur. And it looked familiar.
She scrolled down the page to find the tag list. Frowning, she read down to the bottom. "Very Handsome Cowboy is tagged in four photos." Trying to exercise some self-control, Bo clicked on the box. It was just a dummy link for someone who didn't have a real profile, but obediently four thumbnails popped up. The first one was the picture of Bonnie she had just seen, so she clicked the next one, which appeared to be of Ellie holding a toy upright in front of the cardboard house.
Ellie was kneeling on the grass, and was indeed holding a toy...Woody.
"What!"
The caption read, "Andy introduced me to Woody, who is quite possibly the cutest cowboy I've ever seen in my life."
Andy had commented on the photo. "Only you, Ellie!"
Ellie: "Bonnie agreed with me. So did half the other toys."
Andy: "LOL. Half, and the other half just thought you were silly."
Ellie: "The female half agreed with me. Of course the boys didn't."
Andy: "You're just embarrassing the poor guy!"
Ellie: "I think Woody is flattered to get some attention."
Andy: "This is why we're friends. You are the only person who could keep me this entertained. :)"
This was crazy. No, it wasn't crazy, it was impossible. Trying to keep her jaw from dropping, she clicked for the next picture. It was of Bonnie, who was holding not just Woody in her arms, but Buzz and Jessie as well.
She waited a few moments, waiting for the dizziness this brought on to pass, but it didn't. Feeling incredibly discombobulated, Bo clicked for the last photo. Ellie and Andy were sitting together on a blanket with all of Andy and Bonnie's toys strewn across it. Bonnie was standing behind Andy and Ellie, making Woody sit on Andy's shoulder and making rabbit ears above Ellie's head. It had to be the sweetest thing Bo had seen in years. All the people she cared about were right there; together. She dragged her eyes down to the caption.
"This is why I love my boyfriend. He gave all his favorite toys to the cutest little girl in the world."
Andy gave Woody up?
Very deliberately, she sat down against the pencil cup. She had believed she was never going see him again. Or Jessie. Or Buzz. Or anyone else... It took a few minutes, but the shock ebbed a bit and the old pain in her chest came back clearly. The heartache and loneliness returned, feeling stronger than they had at first, but probably only due to the intervening years blunting them. She buried her face in her hands and closed her eyes.
She had strictly forbidden herself to say it, but she did it anyway.
"Woody..." She choked on his name, knowing she hadn't said it aloud in six years. "Woody I miss you..."
..
On the other side of town, lazily stretched out and napping in the sun on Bonnie's back deck, Woody suddenly sat upright. There was nobody else around save for a couple of curious quail pecking at the grass.
And her. Somehow, in some strange and ethereal way, she was right there.
Woody looked around him, expecting to see her. He touched the back of his neck, feeling it tingle the way it used to. He took several deep breaths, trying to cling to the sensation that had awoken him, soaking it in. All in one mixed wave, the jelly legs, the swooping stomach, headiness, contentedness, peace, silliness, and joy of being with her overwhelmed him.
"Bo?"
As distinctly as it had come, the feeling evaporated. Woody jumped to his feet, involuntarily calling out the words he desperately wished he'd said six years ago. "No, no - don't go-"
..
He was pressed firmly against her, nearly pinning her to the wall. The shelf Andy's mom had put them on seemed a million miles high, and Bo felt deliciously giddy. This was worth falling from the ceiling fan. It was worth it a million times over...
"Okay, you can have him back now. Thank you for telling Molly you're sorry." Mom's footsteps sounded on the stairs. Woody didn't seem to have heard.
She pulled back. "Woody," she managed to gasp, trying to look around his head at the door.
He stubbornly misinterpreted her and pulled her closer. She couldn't blame him, they were never left alone like this anymore. But -
"Woody!" She dug her hands into his sides and he jolted away, confused.
"Mom's coming," she whispered insistently.
"Already? But they just..." He sighed and sat down, his head lolling against her leg. She snapped into position just as the door to the bedroom opened.
"Can I please put Bo in my room?" Andy asked. Mom's hand appeared and pulled Woody off the shelf and passed him to the anxious boy.
"Andy, she's not yours," Mom said tiredly.
"But Molly doesn't take care of her, and I do. I don't want to keep her, I just want to play with her."
Mom sighed. "Andy, aren't you a little old for little girl's toys?"
Andy made a fairly inarticulate, hurt sound. "But -"
"She's Molly's."
Mom put her hand on her son's head and gently steered him from the room, closing the door behind her. Bo sighed and touched her face where it was still tingling from the pressure of Woody's mouth. If Andy didn't have a strangle-hold on him, he'd come back tonight.
Bo woke up on Ellie's desk with her face still tingling. She touched it and sighed. It had been a long time since she'd dreamed about him like that.
He was still on the computer screen, smiling with that vacant expression that she loved. The same expression she had just seen in her dream. He had come back that night. She'd fallen asleep in his arms, listening to his deep voice absently humming cowboy songs to her. It was a rare occasion in those days that allowed the two of them to be alone together for more than a few minutes. Woody was in high demand and she'd always known that. It just made every minute she got with him more precious.
She stood up and paced the desk slowly, wistfully, a decision waring within her. There was a reason she'd never said his name out loud before. Thinking about him again could be very dangerous.
Years ago, after spending many difficult nights trying not to cry and wake Ellie, and many long days with nothing to fill them with except dimming memories, Bo had finally accepted her lot and moved on. Either she could spend her days pining away until she became a shell of herself, or she could find some new purpose and move on. She didn't have to let go of her old friends or Woody, but she needed to be able to separate herself from them. She had to become her own person again, a person that could function independently.
Because in Ellie's room Woody wasn't around to help her on and off furniture. There was no warm, fuzzy dachshund who lived to lay sprawled out on his side for hours and let her and Woody pet him. There were no toys for her sheep to play with, no Jessie to fill the silence, no Buzz to tease, and no Potato Head to argue with. But most of all, no Woody.
It had been years since she had let herself indulge in a full-on agonizing journey through her memories of him. It was probably unhealthy to dwell in the past, so she strictly told herself to focus on the present. Focus on making sure the Carls didn't get anywhere near her and her sheep. Focus on Ellie: what classes was she taking, what were her second-graders learning, what was her Facebook status, how did she feel about Andy?
These were safe, engrossing topics. And when they weren't enough to dispel her loneliness, Ellie had a large bookcase full of every book she'd owned from the time she was a toddler. Bo had plowed her way through nearly all of them over the years; everything from the "Boxcar Children" series to Jane Austen, and she had even ventured into some of Ellie's old textbooks. Child psychology and anthropology were a little much for her, but it kept her busy.
But maybe, finally, it was time to think about him again. She looked up at him on the computer screen. She was pleased to see that he looked the same as she remembered. She wondered how much he had changed otherwise. She was well aware she'd developed personality quirks and new habits since she'd last seen him. Surely he had changed as well. No doubt leaving Andy after two decades of devoted care had to hurt. It probably hurt badly enough that he had gone into one of his manic-depressive states that left him a little more bitter and jaded every time. She smiled ruefully to herself. If he wouldn't get so attached to things, he wouldn't get hurt so often, but that was one of the first things she had noticed about Woody: he was completely devoted. And after a while of being with him, she knew that he was completely devoted to her as well. It was a sweet reassurance.
He'd told her it was forever, and he'd meant it. It was the most one toy could give another. There were no formal marriages, no way to solemnly document in front of everyone that two toys were committed to each other. For toys, the friendships and relationships forged over many tender years were held in the small, sticky hands of children. She and Woody had decided early on – no matter how little or how much time they had until they were separated, they wouldn't waste the intervening years.
They had gone from being simply best friends to best friends on an entirely different level. They had graduated from being considered a "mushy" couple -courtesy of Hamm- to a tight-knit team. "A force to be reckoned with," as Buzz had put it once after they had teamed up to trash him at Risk. She recalled that Buzz hadn't wanted to play with them for a long time after that.
The way they meshed together was beautiful, enviable. He understood her, and he always said it was creepy the way she understood him. He had maintained for years that girls shouldn't be able to think like guys; it was wrong. But there it was – she just knew him inside and out. And they rarely fought; which had always surprised her. When they had, it was explosive, but more often than not, they got along perfectly. They both had strong personalities; and she frequently wondered why they hadn't clashed more often.
There were other things too, silly things. Like the fact that Woody was insanely tall for a toy, and it was probably pretty miraculous that she was close to his height. As far as she knew, most dolls, aside from Barbies, were either much shorter or much bigger than her. She'd joked one day that it was a good thing they were about the same height, otherwise kissing him would have given her a neckache. Bo smiled, remembering him laughing at her for it.
The snagging of his jeans on her dress when they stood close; his arms around her waist and head on her shoulder the first time he let her ride Bullseye; the funny, reeling noise his pull string made inside his chest...
She sighed. "Come and sit by my side if you love me-"
"Woody! Where are my sheep!"
He was grinning adorably. "Oh no! Did they turn into marshmallows again?"
"Woody!"
His soft stuffing saved her from breaking as she pushed him to the ground and tickled him mercilessly. He was laughing and squirming, thrashing frantically to get away, but he knew she'd do this; he liked it...
"Do not hasten to bid me adieu-"
"Buff! The ramp!" ...No Slinky, don't let go of him, don't you dare let go of him! We have to get him back, get him in the van now... Don't let go!
"But remember the Red River Valley-"
"Bo?"
"Hmmm?" She lifted her head from his shoulder as he slowly waltzed her around kitchen floor.
"I love you."
It had been the first time he'd said it. The first time of many he'd whispered it in her ear as he kissed her goodnight...
"And the cowboy who loves you so true."
A breeze stirred her skirts, and in her fitful sleep, knowing this would be the last night they spent together, she heard his voice in her ear. "But remember the Red River Valley, and the cowboy who loves you so true." His breath was warm on her cheek. "Bo..." His face was against hers, and his arms were shaking. She didn't want to move, didn't want to acknowledge the impending separation, and she drifted back into the hooded realms of sleep...
Bo inhaled swiftly as if she'd been doused in cold water. For as many lonely years as she cared to remember, she'd been singing Red River Valley to herself, letting its somehow familiar, yet sad, words lull her to sleep. And now she knew why. Woody had sang it to her. All those years ago, on the roof.
Somehow galvanized by this realization, Bo's brain started working again. She wanted to see him? Hear him? She was going to.
Less than a minute later, his voice, long garbled down in the dregs of her memory, was coming through the speakers of Ellie's computer. She had found Woody's Roundup.