Well, we are heading into the holidays, a hectic time of year, but also one that allows us to have a little fun with the characters. It has been ages since I submitted a story... Hope you enjoy! Please remember to leave a review.
A/N: I do not own the characters in this story...just enjoy borrowing them for a moment. I promise to put them back unscathed!
The fourteen year old had her feet hooked together and swung them beneath her desk. Leaning her head on her hand, she stared at the blank piece of lined paper. She looked up at the chalk board again, and back down at the paper. She bit her lip. Her hand shot up in the air. "Ms. Peevy. Oh Ms. Peevy!"
The middle aged woman sitting behind her desk looked up from the book she was reading. She sighed, noting who was calling her name. "Yes Alexandra?"
Alex frowned at the teacher's use of her full first name. Standing up, she looked at the teacher. "Ms. Peevy, I'm finding it difficult writing this letter, when I don't know who I am writing it to."
Kristine Peevy sighed. In her few years of teaching, she had never found a young woman who was so obstinate about doing her work. "The word is whom."
The girl cocked her head. "Huh?"
Ms. Peevy sighed audibly. "It's not huh. It's oh, and you said who, the correct English is whom."
She bit her lip hard, trying not to argue with her teacher. "Yes Ms. Peevy. But how can I write to someone, whom I don't even know?"
Ms. Peevy looked around the classroom, she smiled. Many of the students were taking the task at hand with interest and no hesitation. She returned her gaze to the small, slim built young woman. "Alexandra, I don't know why you find this so difficult, when most of the other students don't seem to have a problem."
Alex stood her ground. "Ms. Peevy, I don't know anyone over there, so how can I fake it?"
She smiled at the youth's response. "I'm not asking you to fake it. I'm asking you to write a letter to someone in the military to thank them for the work they are doing, to wish them a Merry Christmas, and a safe return."
The youth, unceremoniously blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Well, that's just it. I don't know whom is going to be getting this letter, so how can I thank them for the work they are doing, when I don't know what they are doing?"
Kristine felt her temper rising. "Alexandra, have a seat."
Her voice was firm, she was done arguing with her. Alex took her seat, watching the teacher, who had pulled a pink pad of paper out of her desk drawer, and began writing on it. She looked up and her eyes met Alex's defiance. "Here's a pass to the library. There's a volunteer that works there on Tuesdays and Thursdays, her son is in the Army. I want you to talk to her and write the letter to her son."
Alex opened her mouth to object, but Ms. Peevy held up her hand. "Now, Alexandra." The no argument in her voice was clear to the young woman.
With that, Alex collected her papers and pencil from her desk. As she passed by Kristine, she took the note from her hands. Quietly making her way down the hall, she glanced at the note. Shaking her head, she wondered if just writing a simple, non-nondescript thank you to anyone wouldn't have been somewhat easier. She pushed the library door open and stepped in. The lights were low, but skylights allowed the mid-day sun to filter down into the room. Alex quickly glanced around the room, spying the plump figure of Mrs. Brown behind the counter.
Moving quickly to the counter, she presented Mrs. Jan Brown with her pass. The elderly woman put the glasses on her nose, looking it over, she skewered her lips. "Mrs. Goren is shelving the returned books on the left side. You can speak with her, but...try to limit it to ten minutes."
Alex cocked her head in question. "Is she that busy?"
Mrs. Brown shook her head, the chain hooked to the bows of her glasses swayed in time with her second chin. Alex suppressed a giggle. "No, no problem, she just," The woman paused. "She just doesn't do well with a lot of questions."
Nodding, Alex moving towards the rows of books to find her. Turning the corner, she nearly ran into a woman whose black peppered hair was in a bun. The books she held, went flying from her arms. Alex quickly bent down to help her pick them up. "Sorry."
The woman took the books from Alex's hands. "Hmph. This is a library, not a freeway, young lady."
She shrank back from the sharp voice of the woman, wishing all the more that she had just written the letter to an anonymous receiver. "Yes Mrs. Goren."
She cocked her head slightly in surprise. "Do I know you?"
Shaking her head she responded. "No ma'am."
Frances eyes sparked, as she put the books on the shelf. Turning towards the youth, she smiled. "Mrs. Goren, please, ma'am sounds old. Now, what can I do for you?"
The words flew out of Alex's mouth. "My name is Alex, Alex Eames. We have to write a letter to someone in the service to thank them for what they are doing, wish them a Merry Christmas, and hope they come back soon. Ms. Peevy thought I should speak with you."
Mrs. Goren smiled as she led the way to one of the tables. She sat down, and waved at Alex to do the same. Rubbing her chin thoughtfully, she looked over at Alex. "Kristine is a good teacher. Do you know she has a brother stationed in Philippines?"
Alex shook her head. "No, I didn't know."
Francis nodded. "Well, Alex, how may I help you with this letter?"
Alex bowed her head. "I argued with Ms. Peevy, about not knowing whom I was writing, or thanking them for the job they are doing, when I don't know what they are doing. She suggested that I speak with you and write your son."
She tapped her forehead as if trying to bring the information to the fore-front of her brain. "Well, his name is Robert, sometimes he goes by Bobby. He is currently in Germany, but he has spent some time in South Korea. He's a..." She paused, again tapping her head lightly with her index finger. She stopped and smiled brightly. "He's with the Criminal Investigation Division."
Pulling a small wallet from a pocket in her sweater, she read off his address to Alex. Who quickly jotted the information down. Alex looked up. "When do you think he'll come home? Do you think he'll make a career in the army?"
The smile faded from Francis' face, her voice became explosive. "How am I suppose to know that? Do you think I know what he wants?"
Abruptly standing, she pushed the chair away, nearly knocking it over. Alex watched her in surprise. As Frances disappeared around the shelf of books, Mrs. Brown walked quietly to the table. "Close your mouth, Alex."
She bit her lip and looked up at Mrs. Brown. The elderly woman's face held a sad smile. "Frances, is ill. That's why I suggested only ten minutes, she seems to hold it together for that long."
Alex released her lip from its hold. "All I asked her, was when her son is coming home, and if he was going to make the service his career."
Jan nodded. "Sometimes..." She looked apologetically at the young woman. "Sometimes she reacts
rather suddenly." She shook her head, looking at the end of the row of books, where Frances had disappeared. She tapped the table, bringing Alex's eyes to her own. "She is a good woman, it takes time to know her, but she is. Tell me why you needed to speak with her."
Alex quickly explained her mission. With Mrs. Brown help, she was able to find out information concerning the CID, as well as what it took to become a Sergeant. Closing the last reference book, she placed it back on the shelf. Picking up her papers and pencil she headed back towards the classroom as the final bell rang for the day.