Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Priority Mail 4

"Some of them make requests for family and friends," I continued. "There are a lot of prayers for mothers and fathers in the military."

Nendia nodded.

"They ask for cures, or that loved ones come home, or that someone who has died will come back."

"You can't do those things," she said slowly.

"No. And that makes it hard," I said. "I try to answer them in some way."

Nendia sipped her hot chocolate.

"Do you write to them? Or visit them?"

"I have written to some. Sometimes I visit them in disguise, or I make sure I get a message to them through helpers. Or I talk to people who can help them. Sometimes, though ...." I held up my hands to show my helplessness.

"But now," I said, "this problem with Bucky."

She looked at me puzzled for a moment.

"Oh, too fast."


"She won't slow down."

She sipped her hot chocolate.

"Or maybe I'm not fast enough."

"I'm sure you do a good job."

"Oh, Santa, my legs are always exactly right. The best quality. Never a complaint. "

"Yes, I wouldn't be surprised."

"But ... maybe ...."

I smiled. "Try one of the cookies. My dear wife will be unhappy if she finds none of them have been nibbled."

Nendia took up one cookie and took a small bite. She smiled nervously and took another bite.

"They are good, aren't they?" I asked.

"Oh," she squeaked, "Yes. Very good."

She pushed the cookie into her mouth and chewed in an exaggerated way.

She sipped her hot chocolate to wash the cookies down, coughed, then looked at me seriously.

"Maybe you should put someone faster in charge of the legs," she said softly.

I smiled broadly.

"I'm not concerned about the speed at all. But I do have something in mind."

She looked at me quizzically. ...

(To be continued)


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