Missing: Jeffrey

Sister Maria: Do you remember Jeffrey?

A-L: I know a couple Jeffs, but no one who refers to himself as Jeffrey. Give me a hint.

Sister Maria: Aila's giraffe, Jeffrey?

A-L: A stuffed animal, I take it. I don't think I ever met him, unless he was a guest at one of the elaborate tea parties Aila hosts. Perhaps I sat next to him. Must have been a quiet fellow.

Sister Maria: Well, Aila took Jeffrey to kindergarten, to cuddle with during nap time.

A-L: And Jeffrey converted to Presbyterianism, and wouldn't come back home with her to the Catholic/Lutheran home you and Hector have so lovingly built?

Sister Maria: No, she took Jeffrey to school, on a Friday, and left him there. By accident, of course.

A-L: Don't tell me, the Presbyterians sacrificed him on Sunday.

Sister Maria: What is wrong with you? Irma and Public Safety Pete didn't raise us to be hateful people.

A-L: Sorry. I have too much time on my hands. And now Jim Morrison is singing the soundtrack to the video of the stuffed giraffe in flames on the altar.

Sister Maria: Anyway, when Aila returned to kindergarten the following Monday, Jeffrey was gone. One of the kids at Sunday school must have taken him. She was devastated.

A-L: I can imagine. She's such a sensitive little soul. Did you make a missing poster? I had a friend whose dad lived in Columbia, and his pet parrot flew away, and he put an ad in the local paper. So people started calling him and imitating a parrot voice, which is ironic. I think. Although being American, I'm not supposed to fully understand irony.

Sister Maria: Are you drunk? Do I look a woman who has time to make a missing poster, for a stuffed giraffe? We asked in the school office if anyone had turned Jeffrey in, but no dice.

A-L: Is the moral of the story that you wish you had sent Aila to a public school, where you expect people to steal things from one another, because they're heathens?

Sister Maria: When did you become so self-righteous? Don't answer that. So this morning, Aila said she really wanted to take a stuffed animal to school, because she wanted to cuddle with something during nap time.

A-L: Don't we all.

Sister Maria: So, I told her she could take a stuffed animal, but she is responsible for it, and if it gets lost, she'll be really sad. So do you want to know which stuffed animal she chose?

A-L: Don't tell me it was Annais's blue puppy? or the giant Elmo that Aunt Chrissy bought them?

Sister Maria: No, it was Kitty's horse.

A-L: I have a confession. That stuffed horse never belonged to Kitty. It was mine, a joke present a friend bought me when I told him I wanted a pony. I just told Aila that it was Kitty's, and that Kitty had asked me to pass it on to her because, uh, because I like to make stuff up. And because Aila never got to meet Kitty.

Sister Maria: The phone line was breaking up there. I missed all of that.

A-L: I just said that I know Aila will look after Kitty's horse. And I'm sure he'll come home with her this afternoon, safe and sound. He's pretty street smart, and I don't think he'll let himself be fooled by any Presbyterians trying to lure him to Sunday service.

Sister Maria: Well, I hope not. But I told Aila that she has to look after Kitty's horse very carefully, and that she doesn't want him to end up where Jeffrey ended up.

A-L: You're such a guilt tripper.

Sister Maria: I know. So Aila's reply was, "but I don't know where Jeffrey ended up."

A-L: Ohmigosh, that's heart-breaking. I wonder what she imagines. Is Jeffrey lying in a ditch somewhere, or is he now an indentured servant for the altar guild?

Sister Maria: So, of course, now I'm worried sick about Kitty's horse. I put a name tag on him, with Aila's details.

A-L: While we've been talking, I e-mailed Kitty, and she's sent me the link to the place where she bought her horse. Douglas is his name, and if you click here, you can see a photo of him. (He's the tan fellow, with the white mane.) So if the Presbyterians take him hostage, we'll send in a decoy.

Sister Maria: Good idea.