Porcelain

Chapter 21

Dear Ponyboy,

It would be a lie to say that I don't miss Tulsa. Dally pisses me off something terrible, and neither of us can cook worth shit, so if you randomly stop getting letters, it's cause we both starved to death.

The farm out here is interesting in that it's full of little things to see and experience, but they're small and boring things so it's honestly pretty boring. But I picked up a guitar again. And Dally get on with one of the horses pretty good too, better than he does me.

I wish I could tell you we're doing well, but I don't think we've done anything but try and pretend that the past didn't happen and that this isn't "the future" that we got.

I know I said I'd get in touch as soon as I got here, but there were things that needed me first. Sorry.

It's so fucking boring out here. All I do is listen to my records I've already listened to a million times and wish that things were different. You should come visit sometime though if you can, just because it's so different than anything you'd see in Tulsa. Even if it is boring, it's real pretty.

Yeah, things in my life have changed a lot, but nothing enough to be worth telling.

Miss you all a lot.

Love, Estelle "Babydoll" Parker

_____
Estelle finished her letter, and scribbled a note and threw it on the counter to tell Dally that she was going off to mail a letter. It was around 5:00 in the morning, but she'd had such horrible dreams, sleep wasn't worth it to her.

She threw on the jacket thrown onto the couch, and grabbed a handful of cash as well to go off into town.

She quite liked the silence in the morning being surrounded with the quiet noises of nature waking up instead of the constant energy and panic in the air of Tulsa, where someone was always awake, someone ready at all times to sacrifice your well being for their benefit.

The small town was already waking up after she mailed her letter, so she filled the car with gas, and stopped in the store to get more food, things that didn't have to be cooked, but that actually tasted good. She was awfully tired of sandwiches and cereal accompanied by burned toast and rubbery eggs.

The life she now had gave her normalcy she had always craved. But now that she had it, she couldn't help but be bored and disappointed by the monotony of it. After living a life with every day packed with action, good or bad, it was a little hard to change.

The drive home, although just as beautiful as the drive there, was plagued by Estelle's thoughts as she questioned her choices once again.

By the time she got back, Dally wasn't in the house. She assumed he was taking care of the horses. He got along quite well with them, which surprised her. She'd ridden horses as a kid, but she never learned the entire ins and outs of caring for them the way Dally did.

She wasn't going to learn how to cook instantly though, so she made buttered toast with honey, cut an apple. A glass of chocolate milk competed her meal. For years now she hadn't eaten breakfast, because first she just never could be thin enough for her to be satisfied with herself, and then she had to fight to keep herself from growing feminine features. It wasn't good for her, and she was fully conscious of that, but it had been so long it was really hard to force herself to actually eat meals, especially since none of the food was especially good.

She tried to focus on other things as she ate, hoping to get into a rhythm to eat without realizing and then feeling bad about it.

Before long, the toast was gone, as was the apple, and she finished off her glass of milk. It wasn't much, but it already felt like a lot to her. Besides, even if she'd wanted to eat, she never had the money for big meals.

She stood up, dumping her dishes in the sink. There really wasn't much for her to do, so she went into the living room and picked up her uncle's beautiful Gibson Hummingbird guitar. He'd spent years saving money to buy a beautiful guitar, but he hadn't had much time to enjoy it before he died in 1962. And now the instrument was hers to own and play.

It was almost too beautiful to play, knowing how much time and money had gone into earning it. But if it simply sat, it would never fulfil the purpose her uncle had set out for it. He valued instruments with the time and love put into them, not the price tag.

Estelle remembered her conversation with Dally, and what she had promised Johnny. With those thoughts in mind, she started to put together a melody as words floated through her mind as well.