Dear Vella,
I've never really had a reason to write a letter to anyone who actually, well, existed, but I borrowed this totally normal, not-space-pencil from Alex and now I'm going to try to explain some things to you, because I know that when we meet again I'll get nervous and I won't be able to find the words in time before you try to hit me again.
This is going to sound extremely ridiculous and I don't expect you to believe me, but I did not know what the ship – what I – was doing. Almost my entire life I've lived on that thing, as far as I remember at least, and I even started to think my parents were computers. A wolf with yellow eyes told me that we were at war, or something, and that there were innocent civilians that needed to be rescued. I was so stupid. I should have asked questions. I never should have trusted that wolf. But I wanted to do something... real. Something that wasn't a programmed scenario designed to entertain a little kid. I thought I was rescuing people, and for once I felt I was actually doing something good. Now I just feel sick when I think about it all, like I'm about to throw up, but it's not the kind of sick you feel when you eat too much ice cream.
For my part in it, however unknowing, I am sorry. I am wholly, deeply, incredibly, enormously sorry. I am so sorry that I wish I had the thesaurus on my ship to give you more adverbs to describe how sorry I am.
What scares me the most is that there is someone, or multiple people, behind all of this. Someone designed this ship, and others like it, to do these terrible things and keep those controlling it oblivious to what was actually going on. I would like to take them down, whoever they are. We'll do it together, if you don't mind working with me.
I met your family today! Your mother, father, and Rocky were very nice. Your grandfather doesn't seem to like me very much, but I understand where he's coming from. I think it's awesome that he keeps icing in his cane. Never know when that would come in handy! When I meet you again I need to tell you about the time I used a whipped cream gun as a jet pack. I'm sure a baker like you would appreciate it. I've never baked anything in my life (too dangerous according to Mom) but Rocky tells me that if I ever come to visit Sugar Bunting, we can all make a giant cake together, AND that she'll let you eat the parts with red frosting this time. She seemed very upset that she never let you have anything with red frosting, ever. Is red frosting considered a valuable commodity in your town? Rocky tells me it's better than pink frosting and white frosting. They all taste like sugar to me, but maybe true connoisseurs can tell the difference.
Maybe I'm supposed to be mad at you for destroying my ship (I know Mom must be furious!) but I want to thank you for it. Without you, I would have still thought I was in space. I would have been unknowingly kidnapping all of those innocent girls. I would have still been talking to yarn pals and eating dinner pills instead of real food (like this peach I found in this tree in Meriloft; it's so juicy and real and the pit is a choking hazard that Mom never would have allowed on the ship)! Thank you, Vella Tartine. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I've never felt alive like this before, and there's so many things I want to do... I want to ride a bike, even if I fall off and skin my knee. I want to bake a cake with you and Rocky and maybe I'll burn my arm on the oven because I wasn't careful enough. I want to experience DANGER!
The more I talk to people, the greater I see the impact you have had on so many lives. You're really not afraid of anything! I hope that when we meet again, and we take down these bad guys, that we can be friends. Aside from the yarn pals and talking kitchen utensils (don't ask), I don't have any friends. I've never been allowed to make any, so... I don't know how. Am I supposed to say, "Sorry for controlling the ship that happened to be kidnapping young maidens across the land and also tried to kidnap you, but can we be friends?" It'll be cool to have someone to play chess with, too. I've only played against the computer and it always wins. But if you don't like chess we don't have to do that. I think friends can do other things too, like tell secrets and give each other hugs when we're sad. Only if you want to. Or you can hit me again. Maybe I deserve that too. I'm almost out of paper now, and I get the feeling I'm going to need it, so here is where I will end this letter.
Your (hopeful) friend,
Shay.
P.S. If you happen to come across a photograph in the junk room of that time I wore boots on my hands and gloves on my feet while doing a handstand with a whipped cream mustache and beard on my butt, please ignore that. Actually, don't pay much attention to anything at all in that room.