Chapter Summary – Tommy replies to his letters.
Jail House Letters
Dear Mom,
Okay, I must say that I am glad you broke it off with Dick. I never liked him in the first place but you seemed to be head over heels for the guy and I didn't want to hurt you. So, I just left it alone. Thanks for getting stuff taken care of. I appreciate it.
I guess, Dougie, is my new blood-brother. I'm glad he's there to help you out when I am incapacitorially locked away from such contact as the such that would give Dick-ie a lovely bruise. Well, that thought makes me feel better. Yes, I feel much better about this whole thing.
Ah, Mr. Millhouse was pretty cool when I was a kid. Do whatever you want. I look forward to spending a few days with you. Maybe I can get to that leak in the roof. Is it still there? Oh well, it's nice thinking about it. I told you those roofers were idiots that didn't know what they were doing. Wait, that's the same thing? My head it going around in circles.
To Aunt Millie, the cookies were grand, but unfortunately they found the metal nail filer and as punishment I had to sing show tunes for twenty-four hours straight. I almost made the prison guards deaf and the Warden insane. So, let's not repeat the experience, savvy?
Okay, I love you Mom. I expect Dougie to take care of the back porch steps so you don't fall and hurt yourself.
Love, Tommy
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Dougie,
Blame Mom. She refers to you like that, and so, me being your blood-brother and all that…I decided to keep it going. Okay, I got the do-rag and its doing wonders for me. I also was able to get a pack of gum from the Prisoner's over the counter store thing…whatever it's called. Image intact. Especially after I knocked a guy for feeling me up. Really, perverts, the lot of them!
Tell Booker "thanks" – I highly doubt his abilities though. To Jude, tell her not to worry her pretty head, I can take care of myself. To Harry and the Coach…I do my best but I ain't promising a thing. Not one thing. If one of them thinks they can beat me up then they all thinks so and I had to do something.
Skylar got put in solitary for dealing. I knew he was on coke. All the signs pointed to it. They raided the cell but since I didn't have any contraband…well…it's cool to have it to myself for a time. I swear, there has to be the biggest ring of dealing I've seen here. I ain't being told nothin, but stuff changes hands far to often to make me feel safe about it.
I think a few of the prison guards are in on it too. But I can't be sure.
Mom's getting me Mr. Millhouse for a lawyer. He defended Dad once, it was before I was born and Mom and Dad never talked about it. But, maybe you could get the records or something. Mom seems to have the same idea I have about the missing bullet. Either it was picked up and never admitted into evidence, or it's missing.
(Go with the theory!) Okey-doke?
Er – Now it is time for the RANDOM MOMENT of this letter. Here goes. Please laugh at my expense.
Let us examine Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. As a kid I used to eat them all the time. Loved them above anything else. I wouldn't trade with no one at school. Sure, the bullies usually pushed it into my face, but I thanked them for it because it helped me to eat it faster. (I am not kidding. I got a few black eyes for that one). They don't serve PB&J here. It's terrible! Life altering! If there was one comfort prison needs, it is a good PB&J with ice cold milk on the side.
Did you know that the PB&J was made by GI's in WW II because it is nonperishable and keeps in hot weather? Make one for me and eat it. I am so craving PB&J right now.
Okay, Random moment come and gone.
--Later—
Is it just me or do ass holes have it out for my face? I was coming back from the showers and some dude just gave me a knuckle sandwich. It bloody hurts. I'm going to have it swelled shut within the hour. Someone is in for it. Once I figure out how I can get back at him. I would have swung back if there hadn't been a guard coming 'round the corner just then. So, if I had swung back I would be in solitary. So, I just gave the dude the finger and walked off. I am so going to get him back!
--Later, later—
Okay, so some dude got me some hair die. I got a pack of smokes for another guy, who agreed to dribble it into my attackers hair tonight and give him a note. That way he knows I was the one who did it and all that rot. They didn't seem to mind much. The guy who's helping me out goes by the name of Doogan. He's huge, he's black and he loves to give me noogies. He hates Skylar though, he's told me to watch my back with that kid. He also wants me to get another Tattoo. He's got loads of sketches. All I gotta do is get him a whole carton (ten packs) of cigarettes. Well, that is, if I decided to do it. That is. I don't think I will though.
What I don't understand is how Doogan can be nice to me. I mean, he's tough. He took out five guys the other day and never broke a sweat. If he decided to do anything with me, I don't think I could hold him off for any amount of time. I hope he doesn't become my cell mate. I've heard talk about Skylar and even though it's been a day since they carted him off. I'm pretty sure he's done something stupid. But no one will say what it is he did.
Okay, so. I gotta go now. The Warden wants to talk to me about something.
Love, Tommy
THE MCQUAIDS ROCK!
(I salute you)
P.S. Adding this real quick cause I didn't exactly mail this out when I was going too. But, I found out that my attackers name was Oscar, and his once blond hair is now pink. He wasn't too happy, but everyone seems to think it funny. Though, they keep telling me that I'm in deep shit…Oh well.
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a/n – I find this to be very interesting. There will be a separate chapter for replies.
