Stranger than a Yeti....

It should have been raining. But there was no comforting sound of pitter patter steady on the roof of the convent. All was silent, except for the television.

Winter time was setting in for the nuns in the retired teachers' convent, somewhere there in the hick town of Old Blithering. Luckily, the night was clear, very frosty. All the nuns were in their usual armchairs, viewing their weekly favorite television show. Only the national broadcaster made it on the airwaves at the Back of Beyond.

After these devoted clergy had gazed at the mind numbing Farmer's Hour, they settled in to enjoy the BBC special edition about the village of Midsomer, a real thriller. There in England, far away, the death toll was amazing. Each resident seemed determined to top their neighbor, annoying a famous, but brilliant, detective.

This was a weekly treat. Digestive biscuits were being munched in the television room, a real whodunit? Sister Heloise, the young one, was eagerly following all the clues and red herrings with old chestnuts, hoping to be the first nun to solve this latest mystery.

Suspense was mounting. Ring! Ring ! "Answer that, if you would, Heloise," Sister Cecily said. Sister Heloise hurried to the landline, answering politely, in the old-fashioned way. She listened. "Monsignor John here, bless your heart, Sister. Have you heard the bad news?' "No, all peaceful here, " she responded.

"Well, beware, stay indoors. It's another real town tragedy. Seven teenagers from Year 10 have disappeared ,eaten by a Yeti!" 'Is this April Fool's Day?' Sister Heloise asked, wishing she did not have such suspicious thoughts. She did do the thinking, as an amateur detective. She privately wondered if her Monsignor John had been drinking. That red wine was good stuff!

"This is no joke," the good male theologian replied, "I have seen photos and a footprint of a Yeti. The teens' parents are distraught."

"Let us pray for freedom from the Yeti," he continued.

"Yes, bless us with God's grace," Sister Heloise ended that conversation, and resumed with her television mystery.

She really could not believe Old Blithering now had a higher mortality rate than Midsomer. This was Oz, when when did Yeti evolve there? Some remnant of megafauna, yes, but Yetis were a not true wildlife. Was it continental drift?

As a former educator of the future leaders of her land, Sister Heloise knew exactly how teenagers did make a welter of things. Was it exam time again, midyear approached? She decided to seek God's understanding of this strange tale Monsignor John had shared.

The television show concluded, to be continued next week. The more senior nuns toddled off to bed, Sister Cecily tidied up the cups and plates of biscuit crumbs. Clutching her prayers, Sister Heloise sat down to ponder. Here was a real mystery in town and in the forests beyond, she did question if it was authentic.

What was even stranger than this Yeti was an old Religion and English teacher, a sleuth who had once been a young teenager in this same town. She had also learnt Science along the way, acquiring a problem solving attitude.

Unfortunately for this Yeti in particular, Sister Heloise knew exactly that these missing teenagers had fathers and grandfathers her age. She knew precisely that this time of year meant under age binge drinking, with lip sharing of the biohazards of exchanging saliva. No, kissing was still not banned for the human race.

In her considered opinion, the good sister was well aware where the clearing in the forest by the nearby dam was, how to get there, and what seven teenagers full of romantic notions would be doing. Either that, or her first thought was correct. Monsignor John liked his tipple.

"Right, hostile teaching boots on," she told herself, in silence, of course. While the convent was slumbering, Sister Heloise crept to her ancient bicycle, and rode off in the glittering star light. Well-lit in the night, the moon was sort of sniggering about strange photos of a Yeti, here. Old Blithering was noted for being a second class village, but strange things do happen. Humans can be very strange, especially young ones.

Sister Heloise was not as young as she used to be, but she was reasonably fit from her daily tolls and exercise on her bicycle. Soon, she approached the town's traditional meeting place, high above the murky dam. Yes, she could hear music from a portable device, chattering, laughs. Today's teenagers had not invented love. But they must have a created a new rustic myth, by integrating some technological images.

She burst into the sheltered space. There were the supposedly deceased teens, immediately looking guilty. Sister Heloise let it rip.

"This is your worst nightmare! You are all in deep manure, worrying your poor families like this! Look at these cans, biohazards for the climate. Disgraceful. I know exactly what you are up to! What do you think your fathers did right here.?No stork brought you lot here!"

The teenagers just knew something was going to hit the fan, explaining this Yeti to their oldies, let alone the school principal. Sister Heloise believed we are all God's children, blessed be to peacemakers. But she was not feeling too peaceful, as she produced a roll of plastic rubbish bags she had 'borrowed' from the convent.

"Right, I am dousing this campfire, before you burn down half the state. You are picking up all this rubbish, not leave anything here but footprints. You are all grounded, and are doing homework until you are ninety years old. You have made a mistake, but God loves and understands. I am not sure your grandfathers do. Yeti indeed! Nice try, dodging your exams, but no cigar here!"

She was on quite a rant. "Even worse, binge drinking at your age! Illegal. You can end up in drunk tank with the DT's!"

Then she told herself to take five deep breaths, seeking wise counsel from her God, the big guy upstairs. "God knows and understands everything, so pick up all that rubbish, march right home, and share God's good news. Our lost teenagers have been found!"

"Yes, teens, we shall pray for you."

Grumbling, slightly tipsy, the seven members of the found flock of the Good Shepherd went home, anything was better than that cranky sleuth, Sister Heloise. Old Blithering was soon back to what resembled normal, somewhere in the mythical land of Oz. Miracles and problem solvers are stranger than any Yeti!