Sorry. There are only so many people I can talk to about these things.
Jesse, when Lise came to visit me she had this strange look on her face and I finally said what what tell me and she said do you realize that our parents could not have afforded the dollhouse version of this house? I spent the morning looking for you on Myspace and trying to untangle a mess of sad white cords made by slaves, and this too is America. We have electric cars sort of and the Tesla gigafactory outside Sparks is the largest building in the world. We have virtual reality headsets and as you predicted people use them mostly for porn. We have hd porn. My sister works with a woman in Vegas who was raped repeatedly by her husband, he liked to watch hd porn on his vr headset during. I can’t shake that.
I can’t shake the pictures you posted of your body, hundreds of them, on Myspace. In some you are Jesse, in some you are Jesse Ray alive but dying, actively dying, looking dead, choosing darkness. In none of them in an unnamed album you are finally and truly dead. You are a torso beneath a sheet in the desert. There is a shattered windshield, a cop car, an ambulance, a fire engine tilted on the soft shoulder of the highway, lights blazing. The sun is rising and the mountains are indigo above you. Someone has tucked you up so none of you is showing so we don’t have to see the parts of you we don’t want to.
You were here, then you were gone.
I love you. Am practicing saying that.
1973
Dear Denise,
Terri and I just hit upon a fantastic idea. We are going to start an underground paper at our school! I was sitting at my typewriter writing an editorial for the school newspaper about the defects of the school system, how it trains you to be a worker bee and how they let the pigs and the war machine prey on us. Terri called and I read it to her. She said it meant too much for them to print. She said it said something and they’d never print it. She was right. I said yeah and, “We should start our own paper.” Then we both knew we would.
Keith came over and he explained the whole legal side of the thing. It’s super complicated, but if we work our butts off, we can do it. And I will! It’s going to take about $300 to start. We’ll probably have to sell advertisements in it. It will take many more people than just me and Terri and you (you’ve already been recruited), but I think we can pull it off. So, if you run into anything you think might be interesting, write it up and send it fast. Try to get the views of people around your school and if anyone wants to help, give them my address. We welcome any help at all.
Keith is as smart as a son-of-a-bitch. He knew everything about starting a paper. He sat here for an hour and a half and explained it to me. He’s considering being our business manager. He is quitting his job tomorrow because they want him to get his hair cut. Maybe he’s not so straight after all? Sorry, I can’t help talking about him a little. You know how it is.
Please write back. If we ever get this thing off the ground, we’re going to really say something and I want you to be part of it.
Love and miss ya,
Martha Frehler
P.S. try to think of a title for the paper. I was thinking of calling it
NATURE
AND
FREEDOM
Dear Denise,
I’m in first period. I got your letter yesterday and this is the only chance I have to write. I’ve got so much homework I can’t turn around without worrying. Yesterday I got called into the dean’s office. She hassled me and I hassled her and it was one big hassle.
The paper idea fell apart. First of all it would cost over $600 for the first copy. Then as soon as they find out who is doing it we’d get thrown out of school. Something in the Student Handbook. That’s what Dean Johnson said. Shit, I wonder what happened to freedom of the press?
It snowed here yesterday. When I woke up there was about 2 inches on the ground and it was still falling. There was a big snowball fight in the smoking area. Everybody throwing got swats or suspended. They closed the smoking area, too. You try to have a little fun and they get all uptight . . .
My friends didn’t go back to school after lunch. When I got home, they (Terri, Frank and Scott) were in the back desert writing “get high” in the snow. Keith was with me and we went out and had a big snowball fight. I got dusted about six times. Then Jack came out and we all jumped him. I went back in the house to find Terri crashed in my room. I built a fire. Keith came in, followed by Scott, followed by Frank. Scott got the guitar and I made tea and we had a little jam session, by the fire. It was a trip.
Anyway, I feel pretty good except for about Keith. He’s got me so uptight, I can’t believe it. Denise, I wish I never met him.
I don’t know how much running away would accomplish. It might wake them up, but it also might just get them pissed off. My honest opinion is that it would do me some good. Let me know what you think.
All the days are the same. I’m always forgetting what day it is, when I’m supposed to go where, people’s names. I always have the feeling that there’s so much I have to do, but I never know what it is so I don’t even make an effort. It all runs together into nothingness.
Sorry, you’ve got enough to worry about without my problems. I’ll make it.
Keep your head up.
Love,
Martha
Dear Denise,
What’s happening? Not much is going on here. We’re all just making it.
I got the pictures Terri took on New Year’s Eve back. I almost cried when I saw one of me and Keith. It looks like we belong together. I know I’ll never get over him. He just sticks in my head. I have this feeling that he sees me like no one else can and if he’s not seeing me no one will, especially not me. Does that make sense?
Today he took me home from school. I wondered what was going to happen. Well, we got together just kind of naturally. It seems so right to be with him I don’t see how I stand it when I’m not.
Cyndi looked at that picture and I could tell she was kind of hot about it. It’s been two years since she even looked at him, so I don’t see what the hassle is. She wants everyone that ever liked her to be madly in love with her for the rest of their lives.
Keith came over again at dinner. Then we went into my room and he beat the hell out of me. Actually, I beat the hell out of me, but he was directing my hands.
This letter is totally fucked. I’m sorry I’m blowing it so bad. I guess I’m weirded out and talking out of my ass. Just ignore me. I better close before you can’t understand this thing at all. Keep it cool. Don’t let anyone or anything hassle you. Tell anyone who’s hassling you to get fucked.
Dear Denise,
Shit, there’s so much to relate I doubt if I can ever say what I’m trying to say. I hope you can dig what’s going on. I hope I can dig what’s going on.
I think I’ve met another one of us. I mean, not me and you exactly, he’s me and you at one point in our lives. I can’t figure out if that point is in the future or the past. I have no idea what I’m trying to say. Harry is really real. That sounds like a weird thing to call a person. I dig just being there and talking to him. Denise, did it hit you in a huge wave? Like all of a sudden “What the hell is happening?” and you wonder what’s going on in your own head?
Cyn and I went over there tonight and we did some coke or whatever. It made me feel insane. I can’t type. I better get my head together. It’s almost 1 o’clock and I have school tomorrow.
What can I say?
Martha
Dear Denise,
Something happening here. What it is ain’t exactly clear.
You remember Harry, from the ski lift? He asked me to come to his house and I did. He spaced me out. He is something different. It’s not just that he’s a fox or he’s nice, it’s like he digs what is going down in my head. He understands me better than I understand myself. I went over there last night again with Cyn.
We had to leave early because of school and everything. I wanted to stay, but Cyn couldn’t dig it because—well, I don’t know why.
Then, on the way home, Cyn lays this rap down on me about how Harry’s too old and he’s just using me. I got pretty uptight about it. I can’t believe it’s possible. Then cousin Larry (of all people) came over—him and Cyn had been talking. First he’s like, “Where’s your mom?”
“Work, where else?”
And he lays the same thing down only like, “I’m a dude. I know.” I got really uptight and insane. I ran out into the back desert just to get away from them. I don’t know what’s true.
I wish so badly you were here so you could feel this yourself. It’s not just me, it’s everybody feeling it.
The enclosed letter is the one I wrote you last night. It’s really senseless but I thought you could dig some stoney emotions.
Love and understanding,
Martha
Dear Denise,
I’m sitting here wondering what the hell to tell you. My mind is gone. I’m so confused my insides are churning.
I think I’m sick or dying or something. It seems like an effort to do anything. I feel like I’m getting old. I think the “generation gap” has set in between my mother and me. I can’t talk to her anymore. I can’t understand her or myself. I spend so much time alone. Even when I’m with everybody in body, my mind is alone. I dream so much these days it’s like one long acid trip. Nothing is real, it all slides by me. I can’t feel. That’s the worst part. My heart has a chill on it all the time. I’m numb and drowning.
I went to Harry’s house last night. We didn’t hardly talk at all. No one did. It was so quiet. I couldn’t open up. The whole night my heart pounded as if I were terribly afraid. I read some of his writing. You know how I feel about my writing. It’s my whole self. In my writing there are no lies. Harry’s already read most of my stuff. The pieces of his I read were fantastic, in their way, but they’ve really ruined my picture of his gentleness. Harry was a soft, feeling person, but all of a sudden . . . I can’t describe this knowing fear inside.
I feel the Devil in the true sense. I can’t let it happen, man, I’ve got to find me. Where have I gone? It used to be I was so sure of what I was. I can no longer find the truth. Everything is so under layers, nothing is open, nothing clear. I want to see you. I wish it could be right now.
Harry wrote a poem for me, but I didn’t read it. I’m scared. God, I’ve never felt such fear within myself. I’m dying inside, and it’s such a long, boring process. Where am I going? Who am I? I can’t find you. I want to cry out, but it’s like there’s a strong hand over my mouth. I haven’t said anything ever. I’m dying slowly from something I can’t name. I never want to see Harry again, yet I wish he was here now. I hate him and love him all in one breath.
I wish I could express this, the truth of it.
Love,
Martha
* * *
—
Pete’s mother is dead. She died Monday afternoon. I’ve been cooking dinner for him. They’re going to send him to Alaska. They might let him live with his brothers but if they look at the records, I’m sure they won’t. Last night I stuck my hand against the screen of the fireplace and now I have a million little burns on my hand.
Dear Denise,
I’ve been trying to write you a decent letter for about a week but I’ve been so loaded or busy I haven’t had the chance. Today was the last day of the semester. Last nine weeks I got an F in history. The trip is I had an A the first nine weeks. C for the semester. My final exam was a mindblower . . . I didn’t study AT ALL, test was 12 pages long and . . . I didn’t miss one question! I don’t know how I did it, but I did.
Now we have five days off: Thursday because of Johnson’s death, Friday because the seniors register, then the weekend and Monday we register. I really need sleep. Harry came over while Mom was out of town. The first night he stayed until about 2 o’clock in the morning. The second night he stayed all night. It was really far out. Cyn almost shit when she came in and found us sleeping—pretty funny. Sure was nice to have him beside me all night. A feeling I can’t begin to describe. I haven’t seen him since.
* * *
—
Had a big hassle with my mom this morning. She was pissed off because I went to Harry’s last night and didn’t get home until morning. I asked if I could stay home and she started raving about how if I hadn’t stayed out partying until all hours I would feel like going to school, which is pretty true and I admitted it. But then Jack asked if he could stay home and SHE SAID YES. That really pissed me off and we hassled all morning about it.
Harry said some strange things to me last night. We talked about loving people. He is supposed to be going to Hawaii but now he says he isn’t going for a while. I feel so strange about it, like kinda guilty.
My brother Jack is really weirded out about Harry. He always used to tell me “What you need is a boyfriend” and now that I have one he doesn’t know how to handle it. Cousin Larry gave me a long rundown on how older guys are only trouble and bitch, bitch, bitch . . .
I suppose you’re wondering about Keith, Denise. I think Keith knows about Harry. If he doesn’t, he’s deaf. I really hope that I’m not causing pain of any kind. Keith’s out of sight, but I just can’t be with him anymore. Maybe if Keith cared for me in any way. I guess I’m greedy. I cannot honestly say I’d quit seeing Harry if Keith asked me to. Maybe two weeks ago I would’ve, but it’s too late now. Harry really means something to me now.
Terri and Pete had a big fight this morning. I don’t know about what. Terri cried all through homeroom. Pete called her stupid and she couldn’t handle it.
I went to take my learner’s permit test Monday. I failed it. Isn’t that stupid? I guess I’m pretty dumb.
* * *
—
I finally got a hold of some whites and so I’m staying up all night. I’ll just crank out pages and pages of pure thoughts and hope you can understand. It’s so hard to say things in a letter like this, where you have to make sense. It’s really important that you understand all this. I don’t know if you feel it or not, but I have been getting some zaps from you. I don’t know if you know this or not and if you don’t, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything. The thing I’m going to lay down on you is a very personal matter and you must never, ever breathe a word of this to anyone, especially your mom: Cousin Larry wants to make love to Terri. Cyn is trying to get Terri to do it, but she doesn’t know Terri’s heart and Terri doesn’t want to. I’m really afraid they (Cyn and Larry) will hurt Terri bad. She’s so tender inside. This goes back to me and Harry. I love him very much and we made love. This is how the whole thing began. Maybe that’s not how it is, but I think I’m right. You know how Cyn’s gone through a lot of guys and still hasn’t found the right one. I have gone through comparatively little hassle in Cyn’s eyes (Cyn doesn’t know the whole saga of Keith). All she can see is that I was sitting there picking my nose and Harry walked into my life and we fell in love. Well, she doesn’t think I should find love so “easily” when it is so hard for her. Anyway, when I told her Harry and I made love, she expected me to relate some terrible experience, but Denise, it was so beautiful. I couldn’t hide the joy. I smile from my soul when I think of it.
So, Cyn is uptight because I had something she didn’t. And suddenly she wants to sleep with the guy who happens to like her at the time, who happens to be Cousin Larry, almost thirty. (Yes, Harry is almost same age that’s my point.) Cyn got to talking to Larry and he wanted to make love to her, but even though she had wanted to go through with it suddenly she said no, she won’t but Terri will. When Cyn told me all this, I told her if Larry touched Terri I’d fucking kill him.
So tonight (with all this knowledge) I was at Harry’s. He got a new apartment up by Western so I can just
walk over there. I had told my mom I was going to Cyn’s after school but I decided to go to Harry’s all day instead. So while I was gone Terri came looking for me and Mom said that I was at Cyn’s. Terri called Cyn’s and of course they said I had never been there. Terri told Mom and she went berserk. She knew I had gone to Harry’s and she knew I was lying to her. So she sent Terri and Cousin Larry to find me. They were on the way to Harry’s when Larry said he had to stop by his apartment and get something. So he took Terri to his place.
Anyway, they came and got me at Harry’s, which pissed me off. I didn’t know about what Larry had just done. I came home and explained to my mother how I ended up at Harry’s instead of Cyn’s and thank God, she understood and let Keith come over. I rapped with him and Ter for a while. Terri told me and Keith about Larry. I could tell Keith wanted me. (I don’t mean to sound conceited or whatever but that’s what I felt.)
Around ten o’clock Terri and Keith left and right after that Steve called. (Remember Steve? The guy I was hassling with over Christmas?) Steve knows I dig speed and he said if I could get a ride out to his house he’d turn me on to some. Like a miracle, Cyn came in and she drove me over there and Steve gave me six hits. I came home, took one, and sat down to communicate all this to you. So here I am.
I know this is a hell of a lot to lay on you all at once. I feel as though I’ve just written a fucking book. Denise, please understand this crazy letter. I want so much to let you know everything because you are part of me and I love you. You made me so happy today in your letter when you said I was going to be a great writer and even my letters were “a work of art.” I really needed that.
I Love You but I've Chosen Darkness Page 15