I concluded that the lost shoe "was" new. This is not necessarily a cause for alarm in this "rich" community. Many people there are wealthy enough to discard 800 dollar shoes on a whim. But I do not believe that this is the case, unless the owner had a peg-leg. This is not very likely. When was the last time that you saw someone walking around with a peg-leg? So then, where is the other shoe and what happened to this shoe? Oh, it fell out of the garbage bag when being thrown into the truck. This is also "highly unlikely" as the shoe was in pristine condition. Alright, one of the workers threw the shoes from the curb at another worker who fired it back at him and he knocked it to the sidewalk preparing for the next shoe when the truck began to move. Their driver was screaming at them to get moving so they forgot about the shoe fight and leaped on board. This just couldn't happen. My youngest son worked heaving garbage cans for almost two years. The men were always on an eight hour scavenger hunt. They never threw anything of value into the truck. If the shoes were the wrong size for them, they would have saved them to sell. I believe the men working in Winter Park are well aware of all the good stuff the rich people throw away. They would not have missed a brand new pair of shoes. On the contrary, they would be on the lookout for usable and expensive items. This is one of the perks of their employment.
It is possible the shoe was accidentally dropped after being purchased downtown. The distance to the shoe store from that point is about only a half mile. But why didn't the owner retrace his steps after finding the shoe missing? It is sort of a mystery. I have exhausted all the pedestrian reasons that might have applied to this loss. I didn't want to think this way but the answer seems more sinister than mundane. If foul play was involved, what does the black shoe tell us about the scenario of the crime? Let us suppose the young man who was kidnapped was walking home from down town. We know he was probably eleven to thirteen because the shoe was size 8-9. His kidnappers, there had to be at least two for obvious reasons, approached him head on. They would slow down, stop, and turn on their flashers to keep the drivers behind them from "freaking out" and blasting their horns. If things looked too ”hairy" they could ignore the boy and go around the block to try again. If it appeared to be a "go", the "snatcher" would leap from the car, leaving the backdoor ajar, yelling and chastising the young man as he moved in quickly to strike. The boy dumbfounded, would be frozen in his tracks, wondering what he did wrong, allowing just enough time to grab him and throw him into the back seat. But, the boy struggled valiantly, kicking his legs and feet as his arms were pinned behind him. The shoe salesman’s loosely tied knot unraveled as the shoe flew straight up in the air and straight down to the cement walk. The young man must have continued to put up a desperate fight as the thugs did not take time to pick up the shoe which was valuable evidence. The kidnapper continued to scold the youngster as if he was his errant son. They made a squealing U turn, speeding off to the East, while the boy's arms as well as his legs were made immobile by the ever handy duct tape as well as his legs. If the boy was to be released at a later date their destination must be kept secret. It follows that a cloth beach bag or another similar device was placed over his head. In all likelihood he was shoved to the floor behind the front seats with a strong reminder to keep silent. The exclamation mark was no doubt some type of physical abuse, painful but not harmful. He is still, at this point, fragile goods.
A mile past the "shoe" these thoughts were milling around in my head. I wondered if I should contact the police. They probably would not take any action, thinking I am some kind of "nut". Of course, they would find out a crime had been committed when the parents reported their son as missing later that evening. Then the police would be interested in me because I reported the crime early in the morning. Thinking I was one of the kidnappers who had a change of heart, I would be arrested, held in jail until the boy was found, dead or alive. If alive I would be exonerated and hailed as a hero. If dead I would be held on suspicion of kidnapping and first degree murder. Weeks or months later, after being bankrupted by lawyer fees, I would be released, still under a cloud of suspicion, for lack of evidence. If there was an overwhelming public outcry at the prospect of my release, the powers of officialdom might just come up with damaging new evidence that proved my guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt.
As certain as I was, that the sidewalked shoe was the result of a ghastly crime, I kept my big inquisitive mouth shut. I said "nothin" to "nobody." Now, whenever I see in the paper that a young boy was found dead in the woods or swamps of central Florida, I refuse to read the story. I do not want to read that he was found with his right shoe mysteriously missing.