Anyways, did you know it’s my birthday in one week? The nurses are going to bring me a cake because I have to go in to get my medicine that day. I hope it’s chocolate! I CAN’T WAIT to be 9 years old! I asked Mummy and Daddy for tickets to the Nutcracker ballet in Vancouver but they say I might be too sick to go. I hope not. I tried to tell them that I’m feeling better and I am. I think the chemo thing is working!
I don’t want you to send me anything like last year. It was too big. I looked it up on the internet and when you work in prison you don’t make really any money so I don’t want you to waste it on me. Maybe you can buy King that dirt bike he wants! And then for my present you can send me a picture of him riding it. I think that would be really cool.
xoxo,
Little Loulou Lafayette
Lou,
Don’t care if you’re mad. Betsy told me your feckin’ parents didn’t get you those tickets, so I did. You accept the present graciously, like the little lady-in-trainin’ that you are, and you get Nanny or Betsy to take you to the ballet, yeah?
I didn’t get presents from Santa but in my experience, Lou, Santa doesn’t have much to do with adults so enjoy ’em while it lasts. Did get a visit from my kids though. Their mum brought ’em in, dressed in dirty clothes with their hair all tangled. Feckin’ killed me to see ’em like that. Killed me more to hold my little girl in my arms and breathe in her scent. She smells like flowers. Don’t know how, given her mum probably washes her in cheap crap but she still smells like a meadow. Not gonna lie to you, Lou—not that I ever would—but I felt that shit in my chest. Miss the way my daughter smells and holdin’ her in my arms.
You don’t get much love and comfort in this hell on earth, Lou. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Grateful for the magazine subscription, don’t like you spendin’ your money on some old man in prison but gotta say I missed readin’ about bikes.
Z.
2010-2011
Zeus is 29. Louise is 10.
Dear Mr. Z,
The doctors told Nanny today that the medicine is working, and it looks like I am going into remission… it means that I won’t be sick anymore.
I cried. I know you don’t like it when I cry alone but this time, it was good. I hugged my pillow and I cried so much my eyes were swollen nearly shut. But it felt really good. Can you believe it, Z? In a little while, I will be healthy again. I can go to the playground and swing on the monkey bars with the other kids. I can have sleepovers! I don’t really have any friends yet who would ask me, but now I can make some! I can even take dance lessons again. Not right away or anything because I still get really tired and dizzy, but the doctor said I could start again in six months or something. How cool is that? Mummy cried when she came to visit, and she told me Daddy was really happy. My sickness kind of embarrasses him and he’s running for mayor, you know, so now I can stand with him on stage.
My hair will grow back. I think it is probably vain to miss it so much, but I do. And when it grows back in, I am never, EVER going to cut it again. It’s going to be long like Rapunzel’s and no one will ever be able to tell that I was bald once.
It was a really happy day and I wish you could have been here, so I could tell you in person. Thank you for being my guardian monster and making me healthy again.
xoxo,
Little Loulou Lafayette
Loulou,
Fuck, are you old enough now for me to curse when I write you? Because this is cause for some serious cursin’ and I mean that in a shout-at-the-top-of-your-lungs kinda way like FUCK YEAH! So fuckin’ stoked, kid. I shouted for joy in my cell, I kid you not. My cellmate, Dixon, asked me if I’d won the lottery. Feels like it, Lou, it feels like I won the lottery knowin’ that you’re gonna get well and soon. I didn’t have anythin’ to do with gettin’ you better though. You did that all on your own, little warrior, and I am so proud of you. Never met a stronger lady and you’re only ten years old. I can’t wait to see what kinda woman you grow into now that you got the chance to do it.
Z.
2011-2012
Zeus 30. Louise is 11.
Little Warrior,
Gonna get outta here, kid. Can’t fuckin’ believe it but I’m up for parole after two and a half years. I got a good lawyer but it’s my “good behavior” that’s done it. First time in my life anyone ever commended me for “good behavior.” I nearly bust a gut laughin’ when they told me. Think they thought I was crazy. My guess is, I got you and my kids to thank. Spent so much time in my cell writin’ to them and, mostly, you that I was too busy to cause trouble. Been causin’ it all my life, so yeah, Lou, can’t fuckin’ believe it. If I get out after two and a half years instead of eight? I can see my fuckin’ kids grow up. King’s twelve years old now, almost a man. I can teach ’im how to be better than me. Kid’s smart as a whip, I’m tellin’ ya. He’s headed to university for sure, first person in the family. H.R. is ten like you and she’s too smart, too bull-headed like her father to stay with her mum any longer. She’s run away twice and the staff sergeant and his family are keepin’ her and King for now while my soon-to-be ex-wife gets clean again. You probably don’t know what that means ’cause, Christ, I’m talkin’ to a kid about matters way beyond her years. You don’t need to worry about my shit. You just worry about stayin’ healthy, yeah?