Gnome-napped

In my February 6 entry I told of the arrival of the newest member to my family. My sister's friend recovered a garden gnome from the wreckage of New Orleans. And despite the fact my sister would never have chosen him for her front yard, Monsieur Peep or "Mav" quickly grew on her. For a while we kept him on our faux fireplace mantle. After all, he was the exact colors of our front room. But when our decorator came to look things over we nearly had to pick him up off the floor when he caught site of Mav perched up high.

The decorator put him out, but we quickly snuck him back in. Finally we compromised and placed him outside right next to the front door. There he has puffed on his pipe, perched on his shovel and welcomed our guests.

Several weeks ago we held an all out bash for a friend's 40th birthday. Dozens of people tramped in and out of our home and gallons of liquor was consumed. Surprisingly, little damage was done during the party. (While cleaning the next day, several items bit the dust, including a chair and tiffany lamp.) A couple of rugs were so drenched I had to place them out on the front porch to dry in the sun. When I grabbed one of them and yanked it in I suddenly heard a sickening spinning sound. I turned to see Mav spinning madly. I dove and caught him within seconds of crashing to the ground.

Monsieur Peep survived Katrina and the most outrageous birthday bash I'd seen in a while.

It's now Spring and we've been doing quite a bit of yard work. Every night we water the yard, weed and plant or just sit out and watch the neighbors go by. It's a great way to meet people as there are many dog owners taking the pooches for evening strolls.

Tonight my sister arrived home to ask who had left the flowers at the back door. What? I had no idea what she was talking about. There were two flats half full of flower plants sitting at the back door. No note. The landlord has been working on a property next door, so I figured it was probably left overs she placed for us. I donned my Crocs and went out to plant and water. My sister started putting on her gloves, finally ready to tackle the weeds in the bed around the birdbath. Something on the front porch caught her eye. She walked up the stairs and found a note on the front mat. The place where Monsieur Peep stood was eerily empty. The envelope was addressed to "The Parents of Gnome-ish."

My sister gulped as she pulled out the card and read, "Your gnome is in good hands. Just on a quick jaunt across the states. See you next week. The Traveler."

We stared at each other. We chuckled in a sick and questioning manner, without much heart. Yes, we know it's got to be one of our friends, but which friend? Having watched Amelie at least a dozen times, I realize what this all means, but it's surprising how nervous this makes one. First of all, I was home all day, how did I miss this theft? Secondly, it's a bit disconcerting to see my sister lose one of the very few personal mementos she now owns.

On top of it all is my own issue. I hate mysteries. I don't like miniseries. I need immediately resolution. I need to know!

We continued to work in the yard, she to try and keep busy, I because I had to. I watched every car pass trying to determine if the driver was looking especially hard at us. Did they know something? Should I solicit the help of the TV station across the street? After all he survived, clearly Mav was now a human interest story, wasn't he?

Tonight as she turns off the lights to go upstairs, my sister went out the front door to check, but he's not there. One can only hope whoever took him is ensuring Monsieur Peep is safe and sound. After all, he's seen enough.