So I'm an idiot. I've been cross-posting this story on Ao3, and I realized a chapter made it there that was missing here...so here it is. Hope you enjoy!
Mr. Charles Smith
1003 Aspen Road
Squamish, British Columbia, Canada
V8B 0G3
Return to:
Dr. John "Jack" Marston II
Beecher's Hope Ranch
Blackwater County, West Elizabeth, United States - 65719
Postmarked: April 23, 1939
Hi Mr. Smith,
I hope all is well, and that you've created the family you always wanted. I have one of my own now and it's certainly a blessing. Please let me know how you're doing. As a result of my line of work, this isn't how I normally write, so forgive me if it's slightly clunky or disorganized. As for how I know you're still kicking, let's just say I have my sources and leave it at that.
After more than twenty years, I know this letter is certainly out of the blue, but I felt I owed you an explanation. You did so much for my family and I, and I feel like I've failed you by becoming a stranger. As you know, I wasn't in a good place after my father and Uncle died back in '11. What you don't know (though I assume you suspect) is why the letters stopped coming in '14.
My mother never truly recovered from my father's death, but she was always a strong woman. However, while it may have taken three years, she absolutely died of a broken heart. I was not myself after she passed away, and I came very close to...embracing our old life. I took a Sabbatical in Mexico (I'll tell you more about that if we ever meet), and that's when my life changed. On the road near Thieves' Landing, I helped a fellow who was being robbed. He offered to pay me, but as it happened, he was a historian and political scientist at the University of Blackwater. Seeing an opportunity, I asked if I could have a scholarship instead.
Within six years, I had twin PhDs in History and Political Science and was writing my first book in the latter category. I've published about a dozen books and countless articles in five different languages since then, but politics feels so empty now. I threw myself into my work, and it took becoming a husband and a father (heh, both by accident) to see how rewarding life could be. I've been trying to become a better, less bitter person for about fifteen years now. Some of that involves a change in my focus. With the economy the way it is, everything feels so hopeless, and nobody is interested in discussing abstract notions of "what is the political" or Aristotle's opinion on whether or not democracy is a legitimate form of government.
I'm switching to history, at least for a time, and I seek to give the people what they want. The US government made a big show of pardoning you and the other living gang members back in '30, but I've never seen anyone treat the Van der Linde Gang as anything more than a sideshow. I'm a serious historian, and though I may have a personal bias, I want to treat this seriously.
But, I was four or younger for most of the events discussed. I don't remember much beyond eating spaghetti (which is still my favorite food) in Saint Denis and then being saved by Arthur Morgan. I need eyewitness accounts, and I was hoping that you'd be willing to interview and provide testimony. On a personal level, it's been too long, and I'd love to get reacquainted. Perhaps we can include Mrs. Adler as well, if she's still alive and so inclined.
If you don't want to reflect on what happened in '99, I understand, but please let me know. I can take no for an answer. If you need any other proof that it's me, I'm happy to oblige.
Sincerely,
Dr. John "Jack" Marston II
Dr. John "Jack" Marston II
Beecher's Hope Ranch
Blackwater County, West Elizabeth, United States - 65719
Return to:
Mr. Charles Smith
1003 Aspen Road
Squamish, British Columbia, Canada
V8B 0G3
Postmarked: May 1, 1939
Hello Jack,
Happy to hear from you after all these years, and please call me Charles. You'd have to be in your forties now, right? There's no need for formality.
I believe that it's you. Nobody wants me dead at this point, which is a nice change of pace.
I had always assumed that Abigail passed away, and I don't fault you for having to find yourself afterwards. Losing the people you love at that age isn't easy, and while I was saddened that the letters stopped, I'm glad you put yourself over your father's old friend somewhere in Canada.
I married a beautiful woman back in '15 and I have two sons. My son, George, was already a toddler when I first met my wife, but I took him in as my own. Every child needs a father, especially in the Canadian wilderness (though it's a little more settled now). George lives in Vancouver now, works as a bank teller downtown. I worry about him, but he visits often, and he seems to be doing well for himself.
My other son, Arthur, sounds a bit like you a few decades back. He loves history, always asked me for stories about the Indians or Dutch Van der Linde. I was happy to speak of the former, but as you can imagine, the latter brought back memories I'd rather forget. I substituted by telling him stories about his namesake. He's fifteen now, and lost in the world, unsure of what to make of himself. Maybe you can help him. I'm glad you asked. I'm an old man now. Old men love their families but have few people to talk about them with.
As for your request, I've avoided talking about the past with anyone but your father, Uncle, and Sadie ever since everything went wrong. My wife knows, but she doesn't like to talk about it either. With the pardon, however, I feel more comfortable discussing everything. The world should know what really happened, and I'm glad it will be you telling the story.
Consider this letter an invitation to Canada. You and your family are welcome, and I hope to see you soon. Just let me know when you'll be arriving.
Sincerely,
Charles Smith
