Ah, two posts in one day at 2AM...can life get any brighter? JK it's dark as hell/my soul and i'm tired and a total wreck and my hair is so messy please send help mates
Love,
-Tommy
Gordie gulped as he walked into the apartment. It was muskier, darker, even, than it had been when Gordie was last in it. All the windows were closed, dusty light floating idly over the room. A single black metal fan feebly circulated the air in the kitchen. Upon the table which happened to be stacks and stacks of letters.
"We should clean up…" Gordie said quietly to himself. His father proceeded to follow him into the kitchen.
"You got some letters." Mr. Lachance said quietly, disregarding Gordie's previous comment. From within the ameba of letters and papers, Mr. Lachance detached two nearly blank ones. Gordie's name and address was scrawled on the front in black ink, a stamp with a bird on it in the corner, but nothing else. He gulped.
"You've been getting any more blank letters lately?" Mr. Lachance questioned, sitting down at the table. Gordie shook his head.
"No sir." He replied as genuinely as possible.
"So, do you know who they're from?" His father pressed. Gordie shuffled his feet.
"Let me see them. Maybe I can figure it out." Gordie said with a tight smile. Snatching the letters from Mr. Lachance's grip, he investigated the handwriting as if it wasn't one he would recognize at first glance. He forced a look of light recognition over his face. "Oh, it's from Vern!" He exclaimed. Mr. Lachance gave him a skeptical look. He shoved the letters in his pocket. "Yep, that's definitely Vern. He said he would write…" He paused. "That's okay with you, right?"
"Well…" Mr. Lachance's eyes wandered. "Since you've been doing so well at Huntington, I suppose so." Gordie beamed. "So long as there's nothing from that Chamber's kid in there."
Gordie forced his smile not to fade.
"Of course, yeah." He said meekly, then hurried off to his room, glancing over his shoulder only once or twice to see if his father was watching. He slipped into the bedroom un-noticed. Once inside, he sat himself down on his bed and allowed himself to take a look at the letters. Two of them, neatly stacked, Chris's familiar scrawl across the front of them. His eyes darted back and forth around the room one last time, then tore open the lip with reckless strength, tearing part of the folded up paper inside. Gordie breathed in and out, calming in a sigh. Quietly, he lifted the paper from inside, unfolding it until it's crumpled lines ran perfectly across the paper, writing running messily up and down the page. Presently, he began to read.
September 17, 1961
Dear Gordie,
I just got your letter today, and I have to say, it's journey here was pure luck! The lack of return address probably increased the chances if it getting lost in the mail, and then there's your father, and then mine, who is just waiting to find mail for me so he can burn it. He's on a mean streak, as usual…
School's recently gotten harder…They're throwing all these tests and quizzes on me, and I have to study real hard to keep up. There's advanced stuff they taught last year that I didn't get because I wasn't in the collage courses then that they expect me to learn…I'm always thinking about dropping out…God, it would be so much easier if you were here! Teddy and Vern are no help; Teddy refuses to talk to about you, and Vern is kind of sad. They both don't really like the idea of me ditching them for the collage courses, but it can't really be helped, I guess. I had to get out somehow…
Anyway. I'm seriously enjoying the amount of girls around in the collage courses, though. People are kind of getting a better look at me and realizing I'm not all that bad, I guess. View girls and all. Teddy hates it. He said they'll chew me up and spit me out and he's not going to be there for me when then do because 'he told me so'. Jesus Christ, he's all over the place. He can't stop smoking, and he's talking about beer and stealing stuff all the time. I swear, if he's going down a really bad path. I know I can't even pick up a beer if I want to stay straight.
New York sounds cool, though! I really can't wait until I see you again! Please come home soon, man. We miss you here, or at least, some of us do.
Your friend,
Chris Chambers.
Gordie didn't let himself process what he read before he tore open the next one. Out of it, along with the letter, fell a picture. Gordie didn't dare look at it as it fell face-down on the carpet. He unfolded the paper.
September 20, 1961
Dear Gordie,
I haven't gotten any letters back from you yet other than the first one, but it's only been three days, so I suppose I should wait. I met a bunch of new people in the collage courses now. There's a kid named Sam, Jackson and Timothy, and a girl named Molli. They're all really nice, but don't exactly get along too well with Teddy and Vern, but I guess it will have to do…I kind of feel them slipping away, man. I don't talk to them as much…it's messed up. Wish you were here. Like a lot.
I included a bunch of pictures. There's some of Vern and Teddy and I, and then of Jackson, Sam, Tim and Molli and me. I also got some pictures of the treehouse. I haven't been going there as much, because it's been really quiet around lately, and the amount of studying I have is killing me.
How is New York working for you? I heard it's really hot there. It should start cooling down around there, though, when it gets more into fall. Same here. We're all dying.
So, my dad left sometime last week to the bar and hasn't been back…I usually wouldn't be worrying, but this has been longer than usual. I'm sure he'll be back, and I don't exactly feel bad…I don't know. He's my dad, is all.
Speaking of dads, how is yours? Did you make any friends that he approves of more than your old friend Chris? I always say this, but we all really really miss you! Not much is going on anymore, so there's nothing much to say. Check out the pictures. I'm sure you'll see that absolutely nothing has changed!
Your friend,
Chris
PS. I forgot to mention…I really want you to meet Molli…She's kind of my girlfriend.
Gordie's breath stopped. He stared at the last word. Girlfriend. He tightened the pads of his fingers around the edges of the letter, gripping until it ripped under his nails. He blinked a few times, then bit his lip, running a hand through his hair. He folded the letter, threw it across the room and put his head in his hands. A girlfriend? He could never even picture Chris with any girl, especially one he didn't even know. A View chick! What was he even thinking? Teddy was right; She'd chew him up and spit him out. Gordie just didn't know what to think. What could she be like? Was she pretty, smart, hot? He couldn't even think straight. He'd known Chris since they were kids…the thought of him being romantically involved with some girl he'd never met seemed a strangely vacant thought. Slowly, with shaking fingers and the anticipation of yearning on his mind, he reached to the floor and picked up the picture. It's glossy finish rubbed between his fingers. He flipped it over. It was a picture of Chris, Teddy and Vern, sitting cross legged in prairie of high, yellow grass and wildflowers. The sun was shining, reflecting in their hair. Teddy was giving Chris a skeptical look, who, like Vern, was smiling at the camera. A bright-colored black eyed susan flower stuck into Chris's golden hair. Gordie sighed at his friend's radiant smile, his usually short hair hair now growing longer and flopping in front of his eyes. He set the photo down, then turned the envelope upside-down, scattering a flurry of compact-sized Polaroid pictures over the bed. Tentatively, he picked each up in turn. On the first, Chris stood shoulder to shoulder, arms folded, next to three other boys. All of them were tall, wearing typical vView-kid clothing. From right to left, there was a boy with buzzed blonde hair, a thick jawline and a dark green varsity jacket covering his folded arms, a slightly shorter and less muscular boy with dark brown, floppy hair pushed away from his face with a simple run-through of his hand, an act in which he was caught midway, and a worn-down jean jacket that looked like it had been to World War 2 and back and lived to tell the tale. Next to that boy, there stood Chris, his flower still in tact, tucked behind his ear, his long hair pushed back from his lit-up, bright eyes. Compared to the others, he was nearly a head shorter, but still fit in with the gang of blue-jean-wearing collage course students. Next to Chris, last on line, was a bright looking boy with short, dark red hair and freckles across his entire face. He wore a plain tee-shirt and combat boots. The scene of the picture took place outside; the four were leaning on a large bush somewhere near the prairie where the first picture was taken. These boys, Gordie guessed, were Timothy, Jackson and Sam. Gordie sighed, setting the picture down and picking up another one. Along with the four boys stood Teddy and Vern, sitting side by side in the field. Gordie smiled. He took the next picture. In it stood Jackson, Timothy, Sam, Chris, and next to him, a girl. She was laughing, one hand draped over her head, caught in the moment, the other placed softly on Chris's shoulder. She was slim, her hands dainty and slender. Her hair was short, a little past her ears, wavy and a very dark shade of brown. Her features were soft, with a ski-slope nose and pearl-pink lips, but dark eyebrows and lashes emphasized these features. She wore a short, flowy white skirt and a fitted striped shirt. One leg was lifted slightly above the ground as she leaned on Christopher, the toe of her PF Flyers pointed towards the golden sky. She laughed, showing off white teeth, her eyes squinting in her moment. She was beautiful; Gordie wouldn't deny it. She actually seemed just the kind of girl that would strike Chris's fancy; she seemed unconventional, with an artistic air about her. A risk-taker, judging by the bold cut of her hair and length of her skirt, but not a slut. She was independent, with a strong mind and a heart creating it's own path through the light. She was exactly what Chris would have wanted. Every second watching the photograph, Gordie began to realize more and more how perfect Molli was for Chris; how they looked together, how they acted. He picked up the last photograph. Together, alone. They sat in the grass, Molli adorning a crown made of wildflowers over her dark hair. Her hands were busy at work with another one. Chris watched her work intently, but looked not at her hands but at her face. A feeling crept into Gordie's stomach. The way he looked at her. The way the energy passed between the two, how when the light hit them just right, you could almost see the golden glitter fly around the near atmosphere. He shook his head. How could he have ever expected less of Chris? He was bound to find a girl like this sooner or later; his little white skirt girl who makes him flower crowns that they can place onto each other's heads; his dark haired girlfriend with what might be the most gorgeous features and air about her that Gordie had ever seen. How could he have ever liked a boy; A boy like him?