Daisuke Shen

Dearest Andrea,

I’m writing to send my condolences for what seems like quite a difficult time. Looking outside of our window to see a beautiful young woman such as yourself passed out on our lawn filled us with such terror that Jeremy even peed his pants! I mean, really. at the age of 16—one ought to have better control over their bladder at this point.

Anyway. Despite your happening to flail about on our freshly-mown grass (and it is so very soft — I hope that brought you at least some comfort — ) right in the middle of our pot roast dinner—the one that we make special from my grandmother Rosemary’s recipe...she was a kind, kind soul. She once gave a fruit basket to her helper Sophia once, a family heirloom. But we use it now after Sophia was let go.

But where was I? Oh, yes, the tragedy that occurred. We saw you weeping as you— well, I’m having to write this quite quickly, as Ronny is right next to me at this moment, begging me to let him play his goshdarn PS5 for one more hour (being a parent is no easy task, dear!) — brought that thin blade snug up to your belly. And I remember your eyes, too; that brown sorrow. How dark your blood was smeared across your torso.

Do you want to know something, Andrea? I’ve felt something akin to what you felt that day. I know it seems impossible, but it’s the truth. I was in the seventh grade. My hair was always in braids back then, and I wore the most garish red eyeshadow! I even smeared it over my nose and lips, I loved that shade so much. That was when I met my husband, when I was just 13, (who’s been very concerned about you, by the way). Terry Andrews, the man who was and is my world — Oh, how that Terry used to drive! We’d go 80, 90, 120 miles per hour on the backroads and I’d scream and scream at him to stop. But afterward, I always felt I’d had such fun, even when my face melted into a big red mess.

One day, as we were headed toward his car after school, Terry told me he’d forgotten something inside and to wait until he got back. He smelled like resin, which is just the most comforting smell to me, of course. Love does that to you, and perhaps you have someone like that in your life who makes you feel the same. Wearing the forest green parka I’d gotten him a few months ago that made him look just marvelous. And so I nodded and adjusted his collar, giving him a big red kiss before he left.

I waited and waited and waited. The sun was coming down and it was so cold. My toes were freezing in my little mules; my freshly painted toenails seemed to mock me. I felt that well, maybe something might have happened. And I didn’t feel safe being outside any more, all alone in that  parking lot where anyone could come out and grab me. That thought alone scared me so much I ran as fast as I could toward the doors and flung them open, calling out for Terry in the hallways. Not even the janitor was around. I slumped down a row of lockers, wrapped my arms around my knees and started sobbing. I’d never expelled so much emotion at once before.

And then the funniest thing happened—you’ll laugh at this—but at that moment, I felt like a ghost grabbed me! “Shannon,” the voice said as I whimpered, “I figured you’d come. I was waiting for you.” This ghost I’d made up, it led me down into the history classroom where a couple of boys from the football team were waiting, their teeth slick and wet,  like silver little  fish in the dark. But they looked different from the way they usually did, even though I knew all those boys so well. I hollowed out as one of those awful spirits grabbed me, and I screamed. “Terry, Terry, oh, Terry, please come save me!”

And then one hand, two hands, any number of hands all around and inside. I swear I smelled something like resin. And then there was Terry, smiling above me…

Well, Terry must have saved me, because soon we were back in the car without my even knowing it. Everything felt so vile and my skirt and blouse were torn, and he wrapped me up in his big arms and kissed me until I wasn’t shaking any more. It was my nerves, Andrea, that made me think such silly things about ghosts and Terry’s friends all hollowing me out.

“You fell and hit your head, sweetheart. And your pretty clothes are all torn,” he murmured into my hair as I squeezed him tight. “When I came back with my backpack, you were on the ground. Lucky us, right? My boys had just gotten done with practice and they all came around and made sure both of us were okay. They love you so much, don’t you know? You’re my girl, and real men always protect their friend’s girls.”

I laughed because I realized, of course, that everything really was so silly. I explained it all to him in the car, about the terrible nightmare I’d had when I was out, and he nodded at all the right times and squeezed my hand tight as he drove me back to my house. Then the next day, he asked me to marry him! Of course, my parents weren’t thrilled, but they came around after a year or so after seeing how sweet I was on that boy, how sweet he was on me.

Basically, Andrea, what I’m trying to say is that something of the sort might have happened to you. I don’t think you’re a drug user, you’re far too beautiful for that, and us girls, we have these peculiar experiences sometimes. I believe you might have experienced a similar hallucination. Something so terrible to force a knife through your stomach…when you came hobbling out onto the yard, I felt all the hairs on my arms go up, and even though the boys were screaming, I forced my legs to move toward you, but then I was just stuck. It was divine providence that Terry was suddenly there, helping you back up on your feet, yelling to all of us to go back inside and that he’d take care of everything. I don’t even know where he appeared from…maybe somewhere behind your house, or somewhere close…but that’s who he is, mister hero. And I’m so very grateful he always knows just what to do when a woman is in need. Aren’t you?

You’ll find enclosed a $50 gift card to Olive Garden, as well as one for my acupuncturist. Bailey, her strong grip and way of knowing about the world, I’ve loved her for ages. Several of my girl friends go to her now, too. I also have set up a donation online for you all, although I don’t know their names. Please respond at your earliest convenience with this info.  It’s good to take care of each other in sorrow.

Love,

Shannon

P.S. I’m so  sorry we couldn’t invite you over for dinner last week. The last  roast was just so dry that I was too ashamed to have you over.