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The stars twinkled in the beautiful night sky as carnival lights lit up the streets. Woody sat alone on a branch of a large oak tree. It was almost closing time for the carnival, so it’d get a lot quieter soon. Woody had been traveling with this carnival for almost a year now. He’d been traveling with Bo, of course. Helping her with her mission to help toys get played with and find owners. It was a mission Bo took great pride in. Woody tried to find pride and happiness in his new life, but there was always something that felt off, missing even.
Earlier that evening he’d been helping Bo as he always did. Find a toy. Find a kid. Bring the two together. Happily ever after. The end.
Bo seemed so proud of herself watching that girl skip away with a Barbie in her arms. Reasonably so. That Barbie had been traveling with the carnival as an unwon prize for years. Woody smiled watching the girl leave, but he didn’t have the pride or confidence of Bo. He wasn’t enjoying this new path in life as much as he thought he would.
The carnival began to calm down as it closed for the night. It was now a lot quieter than before. There was more room for Woody’s thoughts now. More room for him to reflect. Was he really happy as a lost toy?
Sure, he was! Right? He now had the love of his life, Bo, by his side once more! The two were free to go as they pleased! No worries of being separated due to one being given away. There was no more panic during yard sales because yard sales simply didn’t exist in their world. But in their world they didn’t have a true home. Sure, they traveled with the carnival, but that doesn’t count. Not to Woody. A carnival doesn’t have a roof. No kitchen filled with the smells of baked goods. No bed covered in plushies.
No kid.
Yes, kids went to the carnival every day, but no kid was his. It was an aspect of the lost toy life that Bo loved. Woody… wasn’t so sure. That lack of security somewhat worried Woody. The lost toy life has torn Woody down and changed him. Not in the cool, badass way they did for Bo. More in a way that made Woody feel insecure about himself. Carnival kids were a lot more rough than Bonnie or even Andy ever were. These kids weren’t as attached to Woody. Because Woody wasn’t their toy. Woody rubbed the back of his plastic head of hair with his hand. He knew he was beginning to lose some paint back there. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it. He had begun wearing his hat as much as possible to avoid anyone talking about his “balding” issue.
Woody leaned against the tree’s trunk. His stomach stuck out as he leaned back. Bo had pointed this out a few days ago. The stuffing in him had begun redistributing itself after Woody lost his voice box. Yet another thing that made Woody feel like a shell of his former self. Woody wasn’t made for being a lost toy. That’s what he concluded. Where Bo thrived, Woody failed.
Except he wasn’t exactly failing. Him and Bo still had wonderful nights together. Woody enjoyed being with Bo. She was just as beautiful as she always had been. Woody loved being with her. He loved her smile. Her voice. The way she walked. How she listened wholeheartedly to every concern he had. Woody loved her with every ounce of his being. Being so deeply in love isn’t a failure.
Then what was so wrong? What was Woody missing?
Missing. That’s it. He was missing something. Someone. He was missing Slinky. The potato heads. Rex and Hamm. Jessie, his sister. Bullseye too.
And Buzz Lightyear. That space ranger had caused him so much trouble when they first met. Yet now Woody feels so lost without him. But that’s what being a lost toy is about, right? It’s in the name after all. Lost toy. Lost. But Bo didn’t seem so lost. If anything, she was more found now that she didn’t have a kid. She’s become more sure of herself, more independent, happier. Woody, on the other hand, had become quieter, more dependent on Bo’s leadership, insecure.
Buzz never made Woody feel insecure. Buzz always made Woody feel as if he was exactly where he was meant to be. Until the two of them got to Bonnie’s house. Those nights in the closet were brutal. That’s where Woody’s self doubt started. In the corner of a dark closet, collecting dust. That’s what pushed him to become a lost toy. The hope that a new direction in life would bring him a new sense of meaning, of belonging, of happiness. Now he’s just sat in the branch of an oak tree pondering life and what he’s missing.
Buzz. He had established he was missing Buzz and the rest of his friends. But that can’t just be it, right? He had made new friends with Duke, Giggles, Ducky, and Bunny. And of course he still had Bo. He could never forget her. There had to be more to this puzzle. Another piece had to be missing, right? What was he missing? He had no owner, but even with one he was unhappy. He was unhappy with Bonnie. Very much so. But he wasn’t unhappy before that. When he was with Andy.
For years Andy was the light of Woody’s life. The sun and moon. Woody’s pride and joy. Every tear Andy cried broke Woody’s heart. Every success in Andy’s life made Woody so proud. Andy loved Woody so much. He loved the cowboy to the point where the two almost went to college together. Almost.
Woody looked up at the moon. It’d been years since Andy left for college. Woody couldn’t help but wonder, what might’ve happened if Woody didn’t hop in the donation box that was set for Bonnie’s house? What would’ve happened if he went to college? Would he have been brought to parties? Or would he have just sat on a shelf collecting dust? Would he have been a childhood story Andy told friends when they entered his dorm? Would he have ever been taken out of that box?
What if? There were so many what if’s to Woody’s life. What if he went to that museum with Jessie, Bullseye, and the Prospector? What if he never made it out of Sid’s house? What if he never went back to Sunnyside? If Woody made any different choices, would he be happier now? Would he even be here now? He couldn’t say for sure. But that’s how what if’s work. They’re speculation. Not the truth. Only theory.
Andy had moved on. That was the truth. Bonnie didn’t need him. That was also the truth. Woody’s choices led him exactly where he was, and he can never change those choices.
But one thing he can change is the lack of his old pals. Woody smiled as he came up with an idea. The carnival has to travel to someone near Bonnie’s house at some point, right? The next time the carnival ended up remotely near Bonnie, he’d travel to her house to see his friends again. Maybe by then he’ll feel more sure of himself in his new lost toy life. And if not he could always just stay at Bonnie’s.
That idea seemed to satisfy Woody’s worrisome thoughts. It brought a little comfort to him. He looked down at the grass below him and noticed Bo. She looked up and called out for the cowboy as he began to climb down.
Andy may be gone. Buzz may be out of reach. But Bo was there for Woody. And a little comfort can go a long way.