Author's Note: A shout out to the world's quickest reviewer ever, Quirky Misty. Three minutes after I updated, she reviewed. Well done! You've beaten your own personal best on that first chapter.
Also, does anyone else find it funny that the first two chapters were all about honesty, and this entire chapter is one long, sprawling lie? XD
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Theme Three: I'm happy.
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Dear Fillmore,
Things just aren't the same around here. Without you, Patrolling just doesn't have the flair it used to. Of course, it doesn't have the injury rate, either, so I guess this is karmatically even. I haven't had a sprained ankle or a bruised knee since I got here. Other than a black eye I got chasing a chronic pig stealer, that is. There's this wacko who rides stolen pigs through the hall for kicks. I should introduce you two sometime, you'd get along famously.
Seriously though, it's been interesting being down here. The start of the year wasn't scorching hot like at X and we didn't get freezing cold like X either. No snow days, but I can't complain. Life here isn't like back home, but it's still good. (Pig thing aside, of course.) The Patrol Sheriff busted his leg a while back when one kid left a bunch of marbles out. Ouch, right? Thankfully the ambulance got here pretty fast. Things are slow around here as far as that kinda stuff is concerned. Nobody ever really gets hurt unless it's football season.
I'm adjusting pretty well, I think. Some of the slang still goes over my head. One kid – we call him Kooter – is really good at Southern metaphors and stuff. I'm totally blown away by him some days. Even the most Southern person you've ever met can't compare to him. He gets epic, Fillmore, to the point where I sort of think of him as my Patrol's O'Farrell. (Don't tell Danny I said that.) I'm better at learning the rules than I am with slang. The handbook's the same but the order's different. Their dress code is in the back, ours is in the front, you know, all that stuff. It's been easy enough to remember the rules, though, since they're all basically the same. It helps to be a little too serious, I guess.
Life around here is pretty easy. I get up, I chase the pigalomaniac, I eat lunch with my partner, and I go home. Homework isn't as bad here, and my grades are actually going up a little. My mom really likes her new job, even though we had to move for her to get it. Life's never been better, really. I still miss you, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm happy here. I really, truly am.
Much love,
Wayne