Quito. Chapter 11. A Glimmer Of Hope.

     Page Two Hundred Forty-Eight.
     Meanwhile, back at the ranch... the kids were freaking out. "I'm freaking out", declared William. "Where could Quito be? Dudes, where could that Wanda be hiding him? This whole thing is a real bummer."
     "This is a rather dubious situation", confirmed Thomas.
     "Yeah. I don't like the way things are looking", added Jackson.
     "Affirmative", piped little baby Jordan.
     "Well, what are we going to do?", asked Jackson. "Wait, I know", he declared, answering his own question. "We need to call people and tell them what's going on. If we have enough people looking for him, then maybe we'll get some results."
     So that's exactly what they did. The four of them brainstormed a long list of various people and agencies who might be able to help, and one by one the kids spent all day making phone calls. In order, William got on his Winnie the Pooh phone and called the local agencies: the Mayor's office and the Shaker Heights police and fire departments. He also called Shaker Heights Country Club, Canterbury Country Club, Shaker Heights animal control and the city kennel thinking that it couldn't hurt. Additionally, he phoned the Cuyahoga County Executive's office and the Northeast Ohio Regional Sewer District, again, just in case.
     Thomas used his Mickey Mouse phone and took on the state and national agencies: the governors office; the FBI; the CIA; the marines, army, navy and air force; the National Guard; the White House; NASA; the Secret Service and Coast Guard.
     Jackson used his Scooby-Doo phone to make the international calls as he was the one who was most well-connected with people in really high places. He phoned the GRU (Glavnoye Razvedyvatel'noye Upravleniye); Scotland Yard, Mossad; The IDF (Israel Defense Force); The Royal Canadian Mounted Police; BND (Bundesnachrichtendienst); Interpol and MI6 (British Secret Intelligence Service). (Seriously, Jackson was REALLY well-connected.)
     Meanwhile, Jordan, on her Richard Nixon phone, contacted people and organizations whom we wouldn't normally think of, but you just never know... Michelle Obama; Prince George; FIFA (Federation Internationale de Football Association); Bill Gates; The IOC (International Olympic Committee); Lady Gaga; Kim Jong Un; Pope Francis and Greenpeace. (Jordan was well-connected, too.)
     They spent all day contacting people. People was very sympathetic, understanding and helpful, too. So helpful, in fact, that everybody whom they spoke with generated plans and ideas together to find and free Quito. Kim Jong Un and MI6 came up with one plan together. Lady Gaga, BND, Prince George and the Sewer District came up with another plan. Greenpeace and the city kennel came up with yet another plan. And many other ideas were tossed around as well. Many people had glimmers of hope and they tried to calm the children down.
     Spending the day on the phone wore the children out. Their necks hurt very badly from the phone cradling and their hands were cramped from the dialing and writing out of ideas. By dinnertime they only wanted to go to bed and then wake up to the smell of Quito making some fresh, dark-roast Columbian decaffeinated coffee, sweetened with brown sugar and lightened with scalded whole milk.
     They could barely keep their eyes open long enough to gulp down the Lobster Newburg which William had whipped up. He even had to put Jimi Hendrix on the Victrola just to keep them awake while eating. They all went to sleep very upset and nearly crying as they were so sad because they missed their black and white, furry buddy.
     Continued Next Week... Quito Chapter 12. A Boo-Boo.  

Thanksgiving '92

     Page Eighteen.
     Did you ever receive a phone call that you just knew you shouldn't have answered?
     September, 1992. The phone rings. Uh-oh. It was my sister, Tracy. "Jeremy, where were you planning on eating Thanksgiving this year?
     "I was planning on eating it at your house. Is there a problem with that?
     "Oh good. Well since you were planning on eating it at our place anyhow, would you mind cooking it too?"
     "WHAT?"
     "Well... I'm very pregnant right now."
     "Yeah, I know."
     "Baby Picasso is due at the beginning of November. So come Thanksgiving, I'm either going  to have a newborn baby or I'll be a few weeks overdue. In either case I'll be in no position to prepare Thanksgiving dinner. Would you mind making it?"
     "Of course, I'll make it."
     "Oh, good. Thanks, Jeremy."
     Baby Picasso was born a few weeks prior to Thanksgiving. He was beautiful. I'm his uncle, I'm allowed to say that. Tracy was able to do some of the shopping and I did the remainder. I came over the night before and did some prep work. I then woke up at 5AM to get the turkey in the oven as my family's custom is to eat by 2PM or so.
     The only hard part about getting the turkey in the oven is preparing the stuffing. I make the best stuffing I've ever had and it is a touch time consuming. But, I finally got it finished and the turkey in the roaster when I was getting ready to go back to sleep. As I was just finishing everything up, I felt myself being spied upon. I glimpsed a tiny figure lurking behind the sofa.
     The Littlest CIA Operative had blonde hair and robin's egg blue, cowboy print pajamas. James Bond himself had nothing on the Littlest CIA Operative's clandestine activities. Now, I wasn't going to interrupt his mission whatever that may be. Perhaps he was on a mission from the president. Maybe the Queen had phoned him concerning a plan to save The West. Who knows? But I chose to lay low until approached. I continued to scrub pots and pans while surreptitiously watching the Operative sneak around and slowly approach the kitchen. Suddenly, a head appeared from behind the counter and it was giggling like it had just witnessed the greatest joke ever told. The head belonged to my five year old nephew, Bierstadt.
     "Did I surprise you, Uncle Jeremy?"
     "Yes. What are you doing up so early?"
     "I'm hungry."
     "Do you want me to make you some breakfast?"
     "Yeah."
     So I made him some eggs and bacon. By the time he was eating, other members of the household were waking up so I was able to go back to bed and get some sleep. The Thanksgiving turkey turned out well and we all stuffed our faces. Warhol is no longer a CIA Operative. Nowadays, he's an economics consultant. He's also a vegetarian. So every Thanksgiving when the family gets together I make special things that he can eat. I make... You know what? No. This is turning into a separate blog. I'm going to quit right here.