Sammy Keyes and the Sisters of Mercy (26 page)

All of a sudden I couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

She eyed my sweatshirt and high-tops. “
You
were in the parade? As what?”

“I was on the Canine Calendar float.”

Her eyes popped open. “The one that went berserk?”

I laughed and said, “That would be the one. And I’ve been looking all night for the dog I was taking care of.”

“Which one was it?”

I shrugged. “Little orange fuzzy thing. Looks like a tiny lion.”

“The Pomeranian? The one on the cover?”

I looked at her and asked, “How’d you know that?”

“Our calendar came in the mail today.” She squinted a little. “Do you like Pomeranians?”

I laughed. “I didn’t even know she was a Pomeranian! I just got talked into showing her because the lady who owns her is stuck in the hospital with a broken leg.”

She seemed relieved. “So you’d rather have a sheepdog?”

“A
sheep
dog?”

She rolled her eyes and grumbled, “You sound just like my mom.”

Now I was about to ask her where her mom was, anyway, when both of us noticed a police car cruising by the library. And when it passed by a streetlight, we both moaned, “Oh no, not him!”

I blinked at her and asked, “You know Officer Borsch?”

She jumped to her little elf feet. “How do
you
know him?”

I followed her across the lawn, but we hadn’t made it more than ten steps when a floodlight about blinded us.

I turned away from the light, and then Ol’ Borsch-head’s voice blares, “Elyssa, stop!”

She stands there with her arms crossed and a great big elf-pout on her face. “I can go home by myself! Leave me alone!” She nods in my direction and calls, “Besides, she’s taking me home.”

“Oh?” He starts moving in on us, asking, “And who is ‘she’?”

I turn to face him and call, “It’s me, Officer Borsch. Sammy.”

Well, that stops him dead in his tracks. And you can tell that what he really wants to do is sit down and cry. But instead he takes a deep breath, motions back at the squad car to cut the lights, and then there we are, in the moonlight, in the middle of the library lawn, staring at each other.

Finally Officer Borsch sighs and says, “So, Elyssa. You’re friends with Samantha. Why am I not surprised.”

All of a sudden there’s a little elf hand in mine. “Yeah,” she says, “and I’m not going anywhere without her.”

Officer Borsch nods a bit, then eyes me and says, “Is
she
the reason you’re always running off, Elyssa?”

Now, it would really make Officer Borsch’s holiday season if he could pin something on me—anything. But Elyssa digs in and says, “I’m not going home without her.”

He shakes his head and says, “Suit yourself,” then motions toward the car. “Let’s go.”

So off we go. And the minute he’s got us tucked in the backseat, Elyssa scoots right over to the door and stares out the window at the moon. After we get going, she gropes around behind her until she’s holding my hand. Her fingers are cold and little, and I wonder—what is she looking at out there?

And what is she thinking, this little runaway elf?