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| From l-r: Melanie, Mikaela, Micah, Mama, {Bentley}, Papa, Lauren, Jonah, Susanna |
It was high noon on a chilly December day. I was perched on
my office desk (a black, well-used bean bag), a chick’o’stick in one hand and a
cup of joe in the other (tea, Trader Joe tea, to be precise). All of a sudden, she swept into my office. Her face looked of trouble itself; her
piercing eyes probed my forgotten reflections.
“Are you surprised to see me?” she asked as I tried in vain to mop up
the spilled tea using my hideously patterned tie.
“Of course not,” I managed. “Don’t
you usually visit this time of year?”
“Yes, but this time I really need
your help. I have some new suspects here
on this paper,” she said, handing me a rumpled napkin. “I’m counting on you.”
“Sure,” I said, rubbing my chin,
then looking up to discover she was gone. Seven suspects. OK, let’s start at
the bottom. The sheriff (otherwise known as Jonah)? This will be interesting. See,
whether you are good or bad folks, if you come a-visiting our town, you will
probably be arrested at some point. Don’t let that stop you, though; it isn’t
hard to break free (he’s allergic to tickling and kissing). And so I called him
in for an interview (called down the hall, that is). “So sheriff, what’s on
your record for this passing year?”
“Say what?” he asked, one eyebrow
raised.
“What did you do?”
“Oh… well I got myself a
spring-field bolt action WWI Sergeant York
rifle.”
“What?”
“I bought me a gun. I also did a
fair amount of reading and writing and
fiddling.”
“And I’ve enjoyed some of your
works of art.”
“Yeah. I like animals too,” he
said salivating as he eyed my chick’o’stick sitting on its saucer. “And let’s
see… well, back in May, I entered the double digits.”
Next I headed down to the diner
where I expected to see the cowboy and some yummy grub. It took me a little
longer to recognize him this time, ‘cause he never stays the same height for
longer than a week anymore. He has now passed from the tenors to the basses,
and he has just recently stolen my place in the town’s hall of fame for “the
tallest westerner who is not the Mayor.” But I am OK with that now (counseling
helps a lot). “Cowboy Micah, how’s it goin’?”
“Hey small.” See—it’s not that
bad. “So you wanted to ask me some
questions.”
“Yeah, uh… the first one is: what
did you do with your year?”
“Well um… I’ve done a lot of
studying lately. I really enjoy history. I also
like to play the cello, and I
am working on a Bach Cello Suite.”
“Sweet! Oh yeah, I mean—I’ve heard
it. How has it been for your first
year as a teen?”
“I like it. I like being able to
sit on the front seat of the wagon.”
“And I know you are always helping
with stuff around town.” I closed, looking up
at him as he nodded his head.
It was now time for a new approach,
so I decided to stalk the person third up on my list. The Scientist. And in my
investigation I found out that it is a very good idea to stay clear of the
purple laboratory when the chemicals come out (my poor gummy bear), as well as the
roads when she gets a hold of the reigns (she’s working on it). She also has
become quite good in her piano-ing. And as for her Thursday nights? Well they
are spent working for a Bible certificate, which she just completed! The
Scientist (or Melanie to some) also taught a group of kids for a week long summer
camp. All the kids walked away with a new understanding and love for science.
“O.K. Miss Teacher (To those of
you who do not have her as your teacher, you either need to change that, or
just call her Mikaela): how was your time used this year?”
“I teach music to lots of great kids…”
“Hence the teacher part,” I said
with a smile.
“Right. The Writer and I also just
started serving on our symphony
board.”
“Y’all seem to love music…and
speaking.”
“Yes, we do! Back in March, the
Writer and I spoke at a girls’ conference
up in Gig Harbor.
It was a lot of fun.”
The fifth suspect on my napkin is
the Writer. She and the Teacher have always been pretty close to each other.
“So Writer what have you been doing as of late?”
“Well we have been working on our
columns (blogs). We just started one for Christian Heritage, and of course we’re
still writing on One Bright Corner.”
“Yes—I was wondering how that’s
going?”
“Good—it has been a phenomenal
experience! Speaking of which, can you write another poem for me, detective?
After your first one won that award, I’d love to post another one!
“Well, I’ll see what I can come up
with, Writer. Now haven’t you also been
playing some concerts lately?”
“Yes! We just did a benefit concert in November and
a few more are
coming up!”
“Well, thank you for your time,” I
said, straightening my tie over the brown stain in my shirt. Ma is the next
suspect? Yeah, right! Ma wouldn’t offend a spider. But I’ll follow her around,
since she was on the napkin list. First of all, she’s an amazing woman that the
whole town looks up to and admires because she does it all. She’s a cook,
waitress, counselor, activities organizer, maid…and the list goes on. She has
also been through a number of surgeries, the last one being in mid-November in Georgia. It was
amazing to see how God worked all that out, from free airline miles to the
Doctor being a strong Christian. Also, we are very hopeful that this surgery
will be a permanent solution to all her pain, so we have much for which to be
grateful.
Last but not least, the seventh
suspect (or first, since we started from the bottom): the Mayor. As I observed
our Mayor, one thing mainly stood out to me… He is kinda sweet on Ma. But that
is OK, ‘cause I am pretty sure he likes the whole town. He also stays busy with
church stuff and work stuff. This year he and the Cowboy cut down a couple
trees near the town, and they have a foundation all ready for a small house (they
call it a tree house, but forget the detail that it’s not in a tree). I also got
the impression that the Mayor doesn’t like me wearing his ties (or using them for
washcloths for that matter).
Now we are at the end. Where did
the time go? In answer to this question that has been the theme of my investigation,
I can proudly say it was spent…carefully. In love, laughter, sometimes tears,
but it was always shared together. Oh, and if Miss Ghost-of-Memories- Past
happens to come rushing in on you as you’re enjoying a peaceful cup of tea, would you mind telling
her my conclusion? (And hold on to that cup!) I only ever see her once a year. Wishing
you all the best for Christmas, this is Susanna, Private I. Signing
off.
All Our Love,
From Our Family to Yours
