So, I gotta thank you ’cause this is you. This is you remindin’ me about goodness. I lost sight of it for a while… But before you get excited, fuck if it’s too late for me to reform or some shit so don’t preach it, you hear? I’m just…happy. I’m happy and that’s a rare thing in the life of a convicted felon, in the life of a man who fucked it up real early for himself. So thanks, kid, for givin’ an old man hope.
Z.
Dear Mr. Z,
I AM SO EXCITED! I AM GOING TO WRITE THIS WHOLE ENTIRE LETTER LIKE THIS BECAUSE I AM SO HAPPY I COULD SHOUT! YOU GET TO LEAVE HELL ON EARTH!? YOU GET TO SEE YOUR KIDS GROW UP? I AM SO STINKING HAPPY. WHEN WILL YOU COME AND VISIT?!
HURRAH HURRAY!
Little Loulou
Dear Mr. Z,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I’m sorry I haven’t ever sent you anything before but you didn’t tell me when your birthday was so this year I asked Betsy and she told me so HA! I got you another biker magazine subscription, this one is called RIDE and I did lots of research so I think it is probably the best one. Do you like it? I know you don’t have much to do in there but exercise and work on the farm. I can’t believe you are 30! That’s super old. Do you have grey hairs and stuff already? I wish I remembered better what you look like. I tried to look you up on the internet but there aren’t any pictures of you. How is that possible? I looked myself up too and there are a few articles with pictures of me because Daddy’s mayor now. Happily, there are none of me bald. My hair reaches my shoulders now, just barely but still, I can do a hair flick and everything.
When is your meeting with the hell warden people to find out when you can go home? You didn’t answer me last time but when can you come and visit me?
xoxo,
Little Loulou
Little girl Lou,
Meeting was yesterday. Lou, I’m getting out. I leave at the end of the month. Got to tell you, it feels fuckin’ great to know I’ll get to see Main Street again, clap my brothers on the back and feel my bike beneath me, roaring down the hot stretch of road leadin’ from Entrance to Whistler like a windin’ biker’s paradise. Can’t wait to live again.
Wish I could visit you, Lou, I do. That said, I won’t. You don’t get this yet but me writin’ letters to a little girl is seven degrees of fucked up. Me and ethics ain’t ever been that close and don’t even get me started on morals, but still, a man has gotta draw a line somewhere and for me, that’s movin’ this strange pen pal gig we got goin’ into the real world. I debated not even writin’ you anymore and, if you push me on this, I won’t. Be happy with this ’cause it’s all you’re gonna get. And before you go whining on me, that’s the truth of the way life works, Lou. Know you got a hard knock with the cancer but your parents spoil you somethin’ rotten and you need to know real life is fulla pain, disappointment and dark deeds. I’m here to help you through the crud but only as a voice written in ink on paper, yeah?
Z.
Lou,
Been home a week now and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ talkin’ to a kid about somethin’ like this but there it is. Somehow, you’re the only witness I want to this. ’Cause the thing is, I should be happy to be home with my kids, my brothers, workin’ in the garage on bikes I loved all my life. You know what I feel, kid?
Weird, fucked up as all get out.
I can’t sleep ’cause my mattress is too soft. Yeah, too soft after the crap mattress I rested my weight on for two and a half years. So, I’m sleepin’ on the floor. Harleigh Rose came in yesterday mornin’ looking to cuddle and I nearly bit her head off. Just touched her old man on the shoulder, innocent like any ten-year-old kid, and I nearly clocked her head clean off her slip of a body. You don’t touch in hell. You don’t smile, and if you laugh it’s a hard laugh that’s meant as a threat. My daughter doesn’t get this, I don’t want her to have to get this. Which means I got to man the fuck up and get over this shit. But fuck if it isn’t hard.
I know I’m swearin’ too much, I know I shouldn’t talk to a ten-year-old girl with her own problems (you still havin’ problems at that prissy ballet school?) but I figure, I’ve got to talk about it to someone and it sure as hell ain’t gonna be a shrink. You cool with that, little Lou, bein’ my little warrior again so I can rest some of this weight on you for a spell and catch my breath?