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#Post#: 96--------------------------------------------------
Hang in There!
DIR By: StoryGod
Date: January 1, 2020, 1:13 pm
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It was nearly time for curfew, but Marion typed quickly. Perhaps
she had been putting the job off all evening.Yes, she had done
that but now...
[Quote][font="century gothic"]
Dear Dad,
It can't be easy to be cut off from the world. It can't be easy
to be in prison that is an order of magnitude better than the
county jail, but we know that's not saying much. It can't be
easy, but it is not impossible. Dream of renting a small
motorboat, sail boat, or even a dinghy and being out on the
water for just a few hours. That can happen again, as soon as
next spring, so it's not a fake dream. I don't think you will be
so broke that you can't be just a little free again.
Think of me. I am still loyal to you. Think of Mom. She loves
you. I know it is hard. I know you can keep it under control
just like when you once sailed The Ship all the way to China and
Japan. I remember both those voyages. You had reason to stay out
of the parties, and you have reason to stay out now.
You have four reasons, though Jason may not remember you well
and Nestor is a coward and Liza a scared kid. Both Nestor and
Liza have not forgotten, and I certainly haven't. Think November
is just two months away and you can probably get permission to
move to New York and settle either here in Westchester County or
up near Malta. You'll be able to get visitation and be a father
again.
You may even be able to have some fun. Meanwhile, my life goes
on. I am registered for English, Nonwestern Studies, French II,
Biology, and Geometry. My special is General Art. My roommate
and I got the last two places. I feel very lucky about that. I
am in intermediate aquatics for gym, and hope to learn to dive.
I took a tour of Ferncliff Cemetery on Sunday and saw some
beautiful paintings of the Zodiac and stained glass. Please let
me know what life is like for you in prison if they don't censor
your mail, and hang in there.
Love
Marion R. Broyde.
[/font][/Quote]
Then it was time for a second letter:
[Quote][font="century gothic"]
Dear Mom,
You don't know how much I really miss your texts. I know if
someone took my phone away I would go into serious withdrawal,
and that is the understatement of the millennium.
The first week of school went OK. The trip to Japan that we made
ten years ago, is inspiration for a watercolor I am working on
in General Art. I got to go to the board three times in
Geometry, which rocks, and I am finally going to learn to dive
-- I hope -- in intermediate aquatics.
I don't mind having to wear a credential around my neck, or the
long bus rides to go anywhere. Westchester like Fort Worth or
even Malta, is sprawling. There are still trees and drywalls
around that are centuries old. Westchester like some of the
Spanish Missions in Texas is a very old place as far as European
settlement is concerned.
I'm sorry about the new sober home even if it isn't my fault, or
yours. Benny should have been more careful. I know walking the
straight and narrow hurts, but you want to survive court and
come to New York. The long game is measured in months, and
that's your game. For me, the game is the academic year.
I know it hurts and you want out of that cage more than
anything, but the way out is to have the judge and zookeeper
unlock the thing, not to find a place in a drain pipe or go out
on a hunger strike or break out setting off all the alarms, and
yes I know you heard all this a thousand times before, but we
have a common enemy, your brother and sister-in-law. They think
the younger three kids are theirs. You and dad need to be able
to get back up north to set them straight.
I know you can hang in there mom. It's only eight weeks. I have
nine months here. I think it's better than Malta, but that's not
saying much. Jason probably doesn't remember you very much, but
if you can get out you can change that. I think Nestor and Liza
miss you in their own way or they will once they know you live
nearby again. Think of us and think of how you don't want to
lose us. Hang in there Mom and I love you.
Marion R. Broyde
[/font][/Quote]
Marion checked the time on the computer and sent her two letters
to the printer in the penthouse. She pulled sweat pants on and
tucked her night shirt into them. As she came into the lounge,
she could see Miella's door was open.
"Where are you going?" Miella asked.
"Up to the penthouse to pick up a print out."
"Suite curfew and quiet hours are in five minutes. I need to
write to my parents. They have no phone." Marion hated to beg.
Miella threw her a lovely plastic, maker space Pass and Marion
slid it around her neck. "I'll make sure you can get back
inside. Do you have stamps?"
"No."
Miella dug two out of her purse and also gave Marion two
envelopes. "Thank you," Marion replied. "I owe you one," she
added and dashed out the door.
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