I've only written about Buddy a couple of times here. He's one of the clients of the local Unobstructed Doors center for the mentally handicapped and is in the library at least twice a week, often accompanied by Harry the Killer Midget. Usually there's not much to write about when it comes to Buddy and Harry. Usually, that is. They almost visit us on Mondays and Wednesdays, around 1:30p or so. And every time Buddy comes in, he calls me by name, tells me "Hi" and then asks where Mrs. J is at. Buddy loves Mrs. J, who I imagine he sees as a grandmother-type. (She is a grandmother-type, several times over.) Mrs. J, in turn, likes Buddy. So when Buddy comes in she is always his focus.
Our weekly ritual, therefore, is that every Monday Buddy comes in and asks where Mrs. J is and every Monday I tell him she's already left for the day, because she has. Then, every Wednesday, he comes in and asks where Mrs. J is and every Wednesday I tell him she's upstairs, cause she's almost always upstairs shelving books by that time of day. This pattern has repeated itself for well over a year now with few alterations and I'm more than willing to play my part in it because we all really like Buddy.
Today, Buddy came in, said Hi to me, and then Asked where Mrs. J was at. Mrs. J happened to be downstairs at that moment, but Buddy couldn't see her due to his line of sight being obstrutced by our bulletin board that's attached to a support post.
"She's right there," I said, pointing to where she was standing.
Buddy was pleasantly astounded.