CHAPTER EIGHT, PART 1

 

   

Annie is horribly damaged by life.
She believes she cannot be loved.
Then Bud becomes her pen pal
and love finds them both...
in one way or another.

Every few days I will post a little more.
 Soon you will be able to read it all.
If you absolutely can't wait to find out
what happens between Annie and Bud,
(and I hope you can't!)
you are welcome to click a link and 

buy an e-book or a paperback copy. 

And now, today's post:

CHAPTER 8

Friday, July 1, 2005

 

“Annie was a great kid,” Paul said, “with tremendous promise. She was our flower girl at our wedding. Cutest thing you ever saw. So full of life, you wouldn’t believe it. She played piano, loved to dance, had dreams of being in the New York Ballet, and she wanted to be a baby nurse. A baby nurse for cripes sake! She could have done it, too - all of it - but then both her parents died and she came to live with us. She was only fourteen. It took the wind right out of her sails – in a big way. She stopped dancing, quit taking piano lessons, stopped talking about nursing. For quite a while, the only thing she wanted to do was to sit in a corner and read, let the books take her away.”

He paused, reflecting.

“It took three years,” he continued. “Three years – but she started getting her spark back. Don’t know why, she just did. Enough time had passed, I guess. Whatever. She started dancing again, started talking about nursing. Her grades were top notch, so she applied to several schools, was accepted at most of them. She chose Eastern Washington University. In Spokane! Why? Because it had a great nursing program and it was on the other side of the world. She said she wanted to be independent, said it made her feel more alive.

“We hated to see her go, but she was eighteen and had her mind set. What’re you going to do?

He wasn’t really wanting an answer, so I stayed quiet and he went on.

“In the middle of her second year – she was going for a four-year nursing degree with a minor in dance – she was driving home from a rehearsal when some drunk ran a red light, plowed into her car. That’s where Bennie comes in. He saved her life. If I remember the story, you were there too.”

“I was,” I admitted, “but Bennie was the hero. I just called 9-1-1.”

“Yeah,” Paul said. “Well, anyway, we flew out as soon as we heard and Linda stayed with her until she could be transferred safely across country, then we took her back to Boston. She was a mess. There were times we didn’t think she’d make it. Didn’t think she’d want to make it. Thousands of rehab hours and God only knows how many surgeries later, she was as healed as she was going to get, at least physically, but that’s not saying much. Truth is, the accident…”

His face suddenly clouded over, and I saw again the man who pinned me against the door.

“Accident!” he sneered. “It wasn’t no accident, it was an assault by a selfish, drunken piece of…”

Another flash of fury, then he willed himself into calmness and continued.

“She was left with severe disabilities. Crippled – bad – for life. Her right arm is all but useless, which is too bad because she’s right-handed. She’s had to learn to do everything left-handed, and that arm won’t straighten out. It’s fixed at a permanent angle. And it shakes horribly. You’ve seen her handwriting.”

“Yes. It’s not too good.”

Paul snorted. “It’s dang near indecipherable!”

“I’ve learned to read it,” I said, coming to Annie’s defense.

“Yes, you have,” Paul said, “and I thank you for it. That’s one of the reasons I’m talking to you instead of shooting you.”

Chapter Eight, Part 2 Coming Soon

CHAPTER SEVEN, PART 2

   

Annie is horribly damaged by life.
She believes she cannot be loved.
Then Bud becomes her pen pal
and love finds them both...
in one way or another.

Every few days I will post a little more.
 Soon you will be able to read it all.
If you absolutely can't wait to find out
what happens between Annie and Bud,
(and I hope you can't!)
you are welcome to click a link and 

buy an e-book or a paperback copy. 

And now, today's post:

CHAPTER SEVEN
Part 2

Sunday, June 26, 2005 Continued

Once I made my decision, I climbed out of my rented car, opened the latched gate, strode up the walkway, mounted the steps to the porch, and knocked on the bright red door. Seven seconds later a pleasant looking woman in her forties opened the door.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“My name is Bud Wallace. Are you An…” and that was as far as I got before the door slammed in my face.

Her expression had been hard to read. It was a combination of fear and fury, with just a tinge of regret, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I also wasn’t sure what to do next, so I did the most obvious thing. I knocked on the door.

“Annie? Annie! Open up! Come on! Just talk to me!”

“Go away!” she yelled through the door. “You’re not supposed to be here!”

“I don’t understand,” I persisted. “Why…”

“You don’t need to understand. You just need to leave. Now!”

“Annie,” Frustrated, I pounded on the door. “Annie!”

“Hey!”

It was a deep, booming shout from behind me. Spinning around, I saw a man in work boots, jeans and a plaid shirt drop his lunchbox, throw open the gate, and charge straight up the walk toward me.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “Who are you?”

For the first time I can remember, I backed up, but it wasn’t by choice. It was because the man had the front of my shirt in his large, calloused hands and was pinning me up against the pretty red door. I was taller, but he was clearly stronger.

“B-Bud. My-my name is Bud. Wallace. Annie’s pen pal. I was trying. To talk. To Annie.” I was talking in half sentences because he was slamming me repeatedly into the door as I spoke. Four more slams and he held me still against the door, squinting at me from three inches away.

“You’re Bud?” he growled.

“Yes sir. Bud Wallace, Annie’s…”

He released me and I almost fell. I hadn’t realized my feet weren’t touching the ground. The only thing that stopped my collapse was the fact that he hadn’t stepped back yet.

Still only three inches away, he snarled, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m Annie’s pen pal,” I said.

“I know who you are. That’s not what I asked.”

“I was talking to Annie. She stopped writing and I was concerned.”

His glare intensified and I swear heat was coming out of his eyes. At long last, he grunted and stepped back, giving me room to breathe.

“So. You’re Bennie’s friend, the new guy.”

“Yes sir. I-I just wanted…”

“Let’s go for a walk,” my attacker said.

Without checking if I followed, he turned around and strode to the gate, then hooked a right and started down the block. I caught up to him just as we cleared Annie’s property.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” I started to say.

“That wasn’t Annie,” he interrupted. “That was her sister, Linda.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

“Shut up.”

It sounded like a good idea, so I did. At the corner was a small park with a playground and a few picnic tables. He walked across the grass to one and pointed at it.

“Sit down.”

I sat and he took the bench across from me.

“You have no idea what’s going on, do you?” he asked. I shook my head. “My name is Paul. Linda is my wife. Annie is her kid sister.”

“So Annie lives with you?”

“Shut up,” Paul said again. “I’ll tell you when you can talk. You’re just lucky I didn’t bash your brains in, pounding on my door and yelling at my wife like that. Jeepers, man – people get shot for less. What are you doing here, anyways? Annie said she didn’t want you to come.”

I stayed silent, not sure if it was my turn yet. My no-back-up policy was taking a beating here.

“You can talk now, for crying out loud.”

“Um, okay,” I stammered. “I was, uh, trying to talk to Annie because she wouldn’t answer my letters anymore, and I kind of like our exchanges. And I felt bad that I hurt her, and I wanted to apologize. That’s all. I probably shouldn’t have, but I just couldn’t let our relationship end without some effort from me to fix it. I’m sorry I yelled at your wife. I didn’t mean to.”

“Do you care about her?” Paul asked. “I mean really care?”

“Yes,” I replied. “We’ve only been pen pals for a year, but I feel closer to her than almost anyone else alive. I do care about her. Yes.”

For the first time since I laid startled eyes on him, his expression softened. Nodding to himself, as though concluding an internal debate, he leaned back, readjusted himself on the picnic bench, and stared straight into my eyes.

“I want to tell you something. Annie doesn’t want me to, and Linda backs her on it, but it needs to be said. Are you willing to listen? Do you have time?”

I nodded.

“Good. I’m going to tell you a story. It might take a few minutes, but you’ll understand when I’m done.”

Chapter Eight, Part 1 Coming Soon

CHAPTER SEVEN, PART 1

  

Annie is horribly damaged by life.
She believes she cannot be loved.
Then Bud becomes her pen pal
and love finds them both...
in one way or another.

Every few days I will post a little more.
 Soon you will be able to read it all.
If you absolutely can't wait to find out
what happens between Annie and Bud,
(and I hope you can't!)
you are welcome to click a link and 

buy an e-book or a paperback copy. 

And now, today's post:

CHAPTER SEVEN
Part 1

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Two days later I boarded a plane at Spokane International Airport and flew to Boston. Not directly, of course, because you can’t get there from here. You can only get there from somewhere else. In this case, my somewhere else was Minneapolis/Saint Paul. I was able to stay on the same plane but had to sit in the terminal for three hours before re-boarding and re-claiming my seat. It’s okay. The delay gave me extra time to think things through.

On a mental level, I was psyched out of my mind. This was my first trip to the east coast, and I mean my first ever. Growing up, we never vacationed any farther east than Yellowstone National Park, and here I was flying to New England! I could not wait to see all the historical places I had read about in school, but even more than that, I wanted to find all the places where George Washington slept. According to my dad, every building in New England that looked even remotely old sported a placard declaring ‘George Washington slept here.’ Evidently, George got around.

On an emotional level, however, I was troubled. Two months ago, June could not come fast enough. I was going to march into that trade show, hang up my hangers, overwhelm the competition, take my company into totally uncharted territory, and maybe even launch us on the international hanger scene. And once I had taken the hanger world by storm, I would get to meet the amazing Annie Parker.

But that was no longer the case. The trade show still got my blood pumping, sure, but the thought of the rift I caused between Annie and me, unintentional as it might have been, haunted me. Worse, I would be in Boston, God only knew how close to her, and she would not let me visit – not even to apologize.

Annie’s dismissal of our relationship rankled me, and by the time my plane touched down at Logan International, I was steamed. Remember when I said I don’t back up, I only step in closer? Well, by golly, it was time for this old boy to step in.

The first thing I did after checking in at my hotel was to get on line and plug in Annie’s address. Bingo! As soon as I could break free the next day, I would go straight over there and force her to let me apologize.

On Monday morning, the trade show started with a bang – literally. Fashions of that moment were leaning toward Wild West Chic and the show planners began the whole thing with a shootout at the Boston corral. With blanks, of course, but it caused a moment of panic because no one knew what was coming. The actors, wearing cheesy period garb, came into the Beacon Hill convention center and started blasting away at each other. Soon overly dramatic deaths were being played out all over the floor and a white hatted sheriff was the last man standing. The crowd erupted into roaring approval as several ladies, dressed fashionably as bordello girls, rushed out of the wings to hug their hero.

From there things only got better. I met several leaders in the industry, made contacts in areas I had never considered, and had lunch with several of my customers from across the western United States. By the time evening rolled around, I had forgotten all about Annie.

The trade show was one thrill, contact or sale after another, and it never slowed down until officially ending Friday at noon. My flight wasn’t until nine that night, so with time to kill, I rented a car and went on a tour of Boston. It was the first chance I’d had to play tourist since I arrived, and I drove around for hours. At some point, without really aiming for it, I found myself in Annie’s neighborhood, a quiet street of respectable homes in the northeast corner of the city.

Having sent her a dozen or so letters, her address was imbedded in my brain and I knew the house the moment I saw the numbers on the porch post. At the curb directly in front of it, I studied the house from the safety of my car. It was a two-story craftsman, well kept, maybe 100 years old, with a stretched out covered porch across the front. Kind of a seafoam green in color, it had two front facing gables on the second floor and a weathercock attached to a center pinnacle coming up from the top of the roof. Very New England-y.

A three-foot-high chain link fence surrounded the front yard, with a latched gate giving access to the 30-foot-long walkway that led to five porch steps. The front door, ten feet behind the steps, was painted bright red, which appeared to be a Boston or maybe East Coast kind of thing. It was a touch glaring against the seafoam green, but it worked.

After studying the house for the fourth time, I realized I was stalling. Was I doing the right thing? Shouldn’t I just drive away and leave it alone? Didn’t Annie have a right to her privacy? The moral intricacies were threatening to give me a headache. The only thing I knew for sure is that I might never have another opportunity to face her or to fight for our relationship. This was an all or nothing situation, and it was time to press forward.

Once I made my decision, I climbed out of my rented car, opened the latched gate, strode up the walkway, mounted the steps to the porch, and knocked on the bright red door. Seven seconds later a pleasant looking woman in her forties opened the door.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“My name is Bud Wallace. Are you An…” and that was as far as I got before the door slammed in my face.

Chapter Seven, Part 2 Coming Soon

CHAPTER 6, PART 2

 

Annie is horribly damaged by life.
She believes she cannot be loved.
Then Bud becomes her pen pal
and love finds them both...
in one way or another.

Every few days I will post a little more.
 Soon you will be able to read it all.
If you absolutely can't wait to find out
what happens between Annie and Bud,
(and I hope you can't!)
you are welcome to click a link and 

buy an e-book or a paperback copy. 

And now, today's post:

CHAPTER SIX
Part 2

Written Sunday, April 3, 2005

 Dear Annie,

You don’t need to worry about Jolene. She reads your letters and wants to meet you too. I’m not being unfaithful to her, though I appreciate your concern and your morals. It tells me you are a person of integrity and quality. Jolene is hoping to get a picture of you with me, so she suggested this: I take you AND your sister and brother-in-law out to dinner so you aren’t uncomfortable. Deal? I’m asking for the sale here, because that’s what good salesmen do.

Here in Spokane we have no snow at all anymore, and the winter wheat is already 9 inches high. It’s not quite up to an elephant’s eye, as the song says, but then again the song was about corn.

I made it to three more of the western states, which brings my total up to seven. Only 43 more to go. Piece of cake. While I’m in Boston I figure I’ll make a call or two in neighboring states. Maybe Connecticut and Delaware. No NYC for me this year, though. That will have to wait.

I hope you enjoyed your Easter. Make sure you tell me all about it when you write me next.

I, of course, was in my home church at sunrise on Easter Sunday and then at my mother’s table for a lovely Easter brunch with half the congregation immediately thereafter.

He is Risen Tag!

Bud

 

Received Thursday, April 21, 2005

Dear Bud,

No! Do not come to visit me! Why did you ruin it? I think we had something good until this. I am so sad. Please don’t visit me. If you care at all stay away!

Annie

Written Sunday, April 24, 2005

 Dear Annie,

I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. If you don’t want to see me, I won’t come visit you. I’ve enjoyed our correspondences too much to risk blowing it on a rash desire. If it’s just that you are a little camera shy, I can understand that. No need to worry, I won’t bring my camera. If you really don’t want to meet, we won’t. Just don’t stop sending me your delightful, life-affirming letters.

I’m also sorry I upset you too much for you to tell me about your Easter. Please write me again and tell me how yours went.

As for mine, here’s a little more detail. The choir did a cantata by someone I’ve never heard of, and it was breathtakingly beautiful. We have a great choir and they worked hard on it. My mother’s annual Easter after-church feast was really more a potluck, as it always is, and it was a rousing success. It’s four weeks later and my freezer is still crammed with leftovers. Every little old lady there insisted I take their dish home because I have no wife to take care of me. It was pity pampering and I’m not complaining. I’m eating well because of it.

On the work side of things, I hit two more of the western 11 states and that means I have only two to go until I will be forced to cross into the Midwest region. My world conquest on behalf of Wallace hangers is rolling right along!

Steamroller Tag!

Bud

 

Written Friday, May 20, 2005

 Dear Annie,

Your May letter never arrived. It probably got lost in the mail. It happens. I’ll just have to make do until your June letter comes.

Speaking of June, my trip is scheduled for the last week of said month, so I won’t be able to write you and tell you about the trip until my July letter. The weatherman’s six-week forecast says the weather in Boston is going to be great come the end of June. How accurate do you think that is?

All eleven western states have been tamed now, and I lassoed one in the mid-west. Yeehaw! I’m heading to Texas next week and I’ll be there for five days. We have lots of customers in Texas. Who knew that Texas had clothing factories?

That’s all for now. I’ll look forward to your next letter.

Get Along Little Doggie Tag!

Bud

 

Written Friday, June 24, 2005

Annie? I didn’t get your letter again. Have I lost you as a pen pal? If I hurt you, please forgive me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Please write back. I leave for Boston in two days. I’ll read your letter when I get home.

Worried tag,

Bud

Chapter Seven, Part 1 Coming Soon

CHAPTER SIX, PART 1

 

Annie is horribly damaged by life.
She believes she cannot be loved.
Then Bud becomes her pen pal
and love finds them both...
in one way or another.

Every few days I will post a little more.
 Soon you will be able to read it all.
If you absolutely can't wait to find out
what happens between Annie and Bud,
(and I hope you can't!)
you are welcome to click a link and 

buy an e-book or a paperback copy. 

And now, today's post:

CHAPTER SIX
Part 1

Written Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Dear Annie,

Merry Christmas and happy New Year! No, I haven’t bought the bike yet because I can’t test ride one with snow and ice on the ground, but I’ve been visiting bike shops and doing a lot of dreaming. I have the money set aside in a separate bank account and I’m leaning toward a Japanese dual sport style bike. That would be perfect for what I want to do, which is to ride around eastern Washington with my girlfriend on the back, on paved roads and on dirt ones. I’m not a Harley kind of guy (I hope you don’t drop me as a pen pal over that) and I don’t like crotch rockets. Those are the bikes where riders have to bend way over and hold all their weight on their arms. That’s just too uncomfortable.

But enough about my future bike. I spent Christmas Eve with my folks and we went to midnight services together. That’s kind of our tradition. On Christmas day I went to my girlfriend’s house for dinner. Her name is Jolene. Or did I tell you that all ready? We played cards with her whole family until midnight.

New Years is just a couple days away and I’ve made a resolution. I resolve, as of January 1 and not a moment before, to

Oh no, my pen just ran out of ink. Now I can’t finish my resolution. Oh well, there’s always next year.

Resolutionless Tag!

Bud

PS – I wish my pen wasn’t out of ink so I could tell you how much I love cookies

 

Received Monday, January 17, 2005

Dear Bud,

You are so silly I laughed and laughed. If you’re pen run out of ink how did you write the rest of the letter. HAHA!!

If I was someones girlfriend I would never ride on back a bike. Thats scary to think of. Give me four wheels everyday. When you buy it, be careful. I don’t like losing penpal’s.

My dad was a big Christmas nut who always put out too many lights and yard decorations but I like them. My mom wasn’t much for decorations but she could cook great christmas cookies. I miss them. They died when I was 14. Dad had a hart attack. No wrong, it was a heart attack. I’m still using that dictionary. It was sudden and he was way young. Mom died a few months later from cancer she was too sad to fight it. Death is my only constant friend.

Now I’m sad, and you too probably. I’m sorry. Back to happier things. My sister learned to make Christmas cookies from my mom and she loves to decorate too. My Christmas was beautiful.

Be careful on your new bike, make sure Jolene holds on tight. It sounds wonderful.

Happy New tag!

Annie

 

Written Monday, January 31, 2005

Dear Annie,

I’m sorry this letter is a few days late. Work just got crazy busy. Do you remember that salesman I wrote about who travels all over the USA? He was skiing on New Year’s Day and broke his leg. He’s taking early retirement. That’s right, you are reading a letter written by the Wallace Specialty Hangers’ newest traveling salesman! How cool is that?!?! I’ve spent the last four weeks learning the route and everything about every customer we have. Giant headache!

BUT HOW COOL IS THAT?!?!

Please don’t apologize for making me feel sad. You are my friend and it is a privilege to experience your sadness with you. That sounded kind of cheesy, didn’t it? Let me try again: You don’t need to hide your true feelings. That’s what pen pals are for – to share truth, even if it is uncomfortable. I’m sorry you had such heartbreak when you were 14, but I’m glad your sister and you were there for each other.

I’m holding off on that bike for now. I’m going to be too busy for the next several months with my new job to be able to ride it much. No worries. The dream is not dead, it’s just taking a long snooze. Instead, I bought myself a new suit, new luggage, and the brand new, high tech, whiz bang, with all the bells and whistles cell phone. You are now corresponding with an extremely well decked out sales rep.

Okay, I need to get back to it. I’ve been working every day since January second, and I mean EVERY day. This bigwig stuff is tiring.

Bigwig Tag!

Bud

PS – Jolene wasn’t too thrilled with the bike idea either.

 

Received Saturday, February 19, 2005

Dear bigwig Bud,

Don’t worry about being late because I wrote early so you can have extra time to write back. Im excited for you to be a bigwig. That is very cool!!!!! You will do great I know it and I’m relieved you are not getting the bike now though I am sorry for you. But happy for me. A suit and a phone are better things I think.

Valentines day is in three days. I will make valentine cookies for all the people I work with at the hospital which are yummy. I love eating the sugar cookies which have pink frosting.

Snow is still every where here and slush and cold. Spring needs to hurry up. I like spring and flowers. Daffodils are amazing because they sleep under the snow all winter and just wait for spring and then they grow up without any help from anyone. Daffodils are like my heroes. Crocuses too. What are you heroes?

My sister is coming and we are going shopping at the mall for spring clothing. Its cold now, but spring time warm weather clothing time is coming soon. I’m counting on it.

Future spring tag!

Annie

 

Written Sunday, February 27, 2005

Dear Springtime Annie,

Springtime just happens to be one of my favorite seasons. I love watching the whole world coming back to life. It makes me want to sell hangers! Okay, I admit it, that’s kind of pathetic, but I really do love my new job. I’ve been to four of the eleven western states so far and I’m on track for going to every state, including Alaska and Hawaii, within three years. What a life! Of course, we don’t have customers in every state, at least not yet, but we will by the time I’m done. Bet on it.

Oh, here’s some exciting news – I’m scheduled to make a visit to Boston in June for a fashion trade show. While I’m there I would love to take you out to dinner. What say you?

We still have snow on the ground here in Spokane, too, by the way, but I took a drive through wheat country yesterday and saw that the winter wheat is already coming up. Once that happens, winter has no choice but to relinquish its hold on the land. Spring is definitely on its way and nothing can stop it now.

I can’t wait to experience Boston. They tell me it’s pretty over there.

Tag!

Bud

 

Received Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Dear Bud,

Yes Boston is pretty. I like living here on the east coast because it has lots of pretty places and scenery. You will like it too.

Its not a good idea to have dinner together. You have a girlfriend and I don’t come between that. Beside, we are better friends if we only think we know what the other is like. Thank you anyway.

We have flowers everywhere here now and the piles of snow in the parking lots are almost gone. Its raining now and that is good because slush and dirt are washed away making boston clean. The city isn’t always because it’s a city and is hard to keep clean. The country side is though.

Easter is coming soon on march 27th, it’s early this year, and I like the candys. Even better I like Jesus rising from the dead. I’m looking forward to Easter sunrise service. It was always my favorite.

Chocolate bunny tag!

Annie

Chapter Six, Part 2 Coming Soon

CHAPTER FIVE, PART 2

Annie is horribly damaged by life.
She believes she cannot be loved.
Then Bud becomes her pen pal
and love finds them both...
in one way or another.

Every few days I will post a little more.
 Soon you will be able to read it all.
If you absolutely can't wait to find out
what happens between Annie and Bud,
(and I hope you can't!)
you are welcome to click a link and 

buy an e-book or a paperback copy. 

And now, today's post:

CHAPTER FIVE
Part 2

Received Thursday, November 18, 2004

 Dear Bud,

My Halloween was fun. Lots of kids at my door lots of candy too they are so cute. The baby unit at the hospital wear I work had us all dress in nonfrightening costumes and we got to dress the kids up too in adorable baby costumes. I was a ballet dancer my tutu was real from when I danced.

Thanksgiving is coming up my sister always makes a big meal. She cooks good. I not so much.

What did you do for Halloween? Was it ok? Is Bud your middle name? your first name is Lawrence so bud must be short for your middle name because no one is named just bud. Buddy maybe? Or Budinski? Haha that was a joke.

It snowed here today like the weatherman said it would. I like cold better than hot. Did it snow in spokane? Bennie said you were an athlete. No wait he said jock. Is jock a bad thing or good? I know its something boys wear so maybe its not good. Bennie never said a bad thing about anything or anybody so it must be a good thing. Do you ski? I love it I go often as I can.

Christmas is only a month away. What are you asking santa for? I haven’t decided yet what to get myself. I mean for what to ask santa for. HaHa. You do know santa isn’t real right? Oop hope I didn’t burst your bubble.

About being a nurse, yes at boston memorial, working with babies.

Tag,

Annie

PS – our month schedule is perfect lets keep it

 

Written Monday, November 29, 2004

Dear Annie,

Halloween made me sad, but I faced it without running to my parents. I bought two of the biggest bags of candy I could find and focused the entire night on making the children smile. I didn’t scare anyone because that isn’t my thing. I don’t even watch scary movies. Bennie could do it and the kids loved it. If I tried, I’m sure some father would shoot me.

My Thanksgiving also made me a little sad. Every year since Bennie and I became buddies, we would eat two Thanksgiving dinners. My folks would have theirs at noon because my dad didn’t want to wait all day for his turkey. Bennie’s folks would eat at 6 because his dad volunteered to work every holiday. Holidays pay double time, and the extra money made Christmas easier to handle.

I stopped by Bennie’s parent’s house to let them know I was thinking of them, and they invited me to stay for dinner. They hadn’t planned on doing a Thanksgiving feast this year and I could tell they were relieved when I declined. Only one dinner for me this year, although I made up for it by eating three slices of my mom’s pies. Pumpkin, pecan and mincemeat. One slice of each. Okay, I admit, I had two of the mincemeat, but I won’t tell if you don’t (insert smiley face here).

My real name is Lawrence, as you know, and my middle name is Harvey (ugh!), but from the time I was born my dad called me his little buddy. When I got old enough to help him with chores, he shortened my nick name to Bud and I liked it. I’ve been Bud ever since, which is good because I don’t like Lawrence or Larry.

Nope, no snow in Spokane yet, but give it another week. Yes, I love skiing. And yes, I am a jock and I wear that moniker with pride.

Santa isn’t real?????!!!!! Has anyone told my mother? She likes to stay on top of stuff like that. (insert another smiley face here) My Santa gift to myself this year will probably be a motorcycle. I’ve wanted one for a long time and Spokane has great riding weather from March to November. I’m looking forward to learning what you got yourself.

Tag!

Bud (just not Larry or Lawrence) (and definitely not Rence)

PS – a baby nurse. How cool is that?

 

Received Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Dear definitely not Rence,

As you can see this is a Christmas card and not a letter although I’m writing lots so it has a letter in it so I guess its both. I just hope you get it before Christmas I know I’m cutting it short.

I mean what the card says I do wish you the merriest christmas and the happyiest new year. You deserve it. For my santa gift I got myself a broom and a mop and a iron and a dish scrubber. KIDDING! I bought a large TV so I could see my movies better. I love movies don’t you?

I’m sorry your thanksgiving was sad. It won’t be next year. Because you will have healed alot and will be able to be happy again. So far I’ve told no one about your second piece of mince meat pie yet. Cherry is my favorite by the way I would rather have cherry pie on my birthday than birthday cake of any kind although choclate cake with fuge frosting is great. Oops the dictionary says it is spelled chocolate and fudge.

I saw on the TV weather that spokane got tons of snow the last two weeks. Are you ok? I hope you aren’t riding your new motorcycle in it that would be dangerous you should wait til warm weather to ride it. Did you get it? What kind?

I’m glad you chose to make kids happy on halloween you have a kind heart.

I’m going to spend christmas with my sister and her husband who live here in boston she doesn’t make pies she makes cookies. I love cookies I like to say they are the perfect food. Are you a cookie man?

Merry tagmas!

Annie

Chapter Six, Part 1 Coming Soon

CHAPTER FIVE, PART 1

 

Annie is horribly damaged by life.
She believes she cannot be loved.
Then Bud becomes her pen pal
and love finds them both...
in one way or another.

Every few days I will post a little more.
 Soon you will be able to read it all.
If you absolutely can't wait to find out
what happens between Annie and Bud,
(and I hope you can't!)
you are welcome to click a link and 

buy an e-book or a paperback copy. 

And now, today's post:

CHAPTER FIVE
Part 1

Written Sunday, October 10, 2004

 Dear Annie,

Please forgive me for being so rude in my last communication to you. I had no business talking down to you as I did. Your response was brilliant, and its kindness tells me you are the type of person I need in my life, as a pen pal and a friend.

Don’t tell my mother – she’d die of shame if she ever found out – but I’m not always the nicest guy. That’s one of the reasons I treasured Bennie’s friendship. Being around him made me a better person. We were good for each other that way. For my part, I was much more a go-getter than he, and I encouraged him to go for things he wouldn’t have gone for without me. You know, like football and such. He was a natural born athlete, like me, but he liked books and video games more.

I guess you could say he helped me avoid being a total jackass and I kept him from being a 300-pound couch potato.

I miss him. A lot. If he had been here, he would have ripped me for what I did to you. Crud, can you ever forgive me?

As Bennie may have told you, I work for my dad, same place Bennie did before the accident. It’s a hanger factory. We make specialty hangers for clothes that don’t work on regular hangers. Yeah, I know, that’s kind of weird. We sell a lot, though. That’s my job. I sell them. At the moment I just sell them around the Spokane area, but someday the guy who sells to the rest of the world will retire and then I’ll become a world traveler. That’ll be fun.

I’ve never been a pen pal before. I have no idea what else I should write. Hey, I got it, I’ll tell you about myself. Let’s see, I’m six foot two, weigh 205 pounds, solid muscle of course, I would eat pizza every day if I could, I have a girlfriend, I’m an only child, and I drive a full-sized pickup with a shell over the bed because I carry a bunch of stuff around for my job.

That’s everything worth knowing about me.

Your turn. Tag!

Bud

PS – I really am sorry I was so rude to you.

PPS – Referring to your letter I received on July 13, I like watching bald eagles too.

 

Received Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Dear Bud,

Yes, you are forgiven. A hundred times forgiven so you don’t have to ask again because I am not perfect too. I am not natural kind I have to work at it like everyone else. I was hurt at first but my sister said you must be hurting worse to do that so it was easy to forgive it.

Did you know I never met Bennie? I have no idea how his looks or weight and I’m glad he wasn’t a fat potato. A world traveler would be an exciting job even if you are selling weird hangers. See I spelled hanger right this time. Thank you dictionary.

I live in Boston, like to ballet do crochet play oboe 5 foot 3 inch weight never mind but in a good range. Would eat shrimp everyday if I could. Never finished college went to a trade school for a nurse. It’s a good job. No boyfriend right now but several lined up. I need to choose my next victim. JUST KIDDING!

I love the zoo, nice one here. Lots of eagles.

I like that you wrote tag. Its funny.

Tag!

Annie

 

Written Friday, October 29, 2004

Dear Annie,

You’re a nurse? That’s impressive. At a hospital?

I see we’re following the same schedule as you and Bennie. You get my letter around the first week of the month and I get yours around the middle. Does that still work for you?

It’s been several months now since Bennie died. Wow. Is that even possible? Halloween is coming up in two days and that was Bennie’s favorite holiday. He had this closet full of costumes. Dracula, Wolfman, a ghost, dozens of comic book superheroes and God only knows what else. He lived for the costume parties. I swear, he would mow lawns all summer, and every penny we didn’t spend on movies or junk food went to his costume collection. Me? I only had a clown wig and a red nose. What can I say? I like the classics.

Last year was our first Halloween in our own place and Bennie went nuts! He decorated our apartment door, played creepy music, bought a store full of candy, the works. Oh, and he dressed up as a zombie, complete with fake brains in his hand and blood everywhere. And yes, it was fake blood. Each time someone knocked on our door, he would groan really loud, crack the door open just far enough, and swipe at the kids with his bloody brain. Not the little kids, just the big ones. They loved it. Those who didn’t run were rewarded with handfuls of miniature candy bars.

I’m not sure what to do this year. Maybe I’ll just go to my mom and dad’s and help them pass out candy. They love doing stuff like that.

What are your plans for Halloween?

Tag!

Bud

Chapter Five, Part 2 Coming Soon