Farrah's Locker
"When your life hits rock bottom, take a peek at Farrah's locker ... Anonymous
April 4, 1973
Dear John,
Greetings.
I hope you're in the best of everything today. My name is not that important and yet I am writing this letter to you because of the following circumstances that needs your immediate attention.
I found a letter under your name on the gate of an old abandoned building while taking a routine therapeutic walk near my neighborhood today. It was probably blown by the wind and water-soaked by the rain this morning because it was already wet, lying in the muck and partly open. I have no idea why the postman delivered your letter here, of all the places, since nobody lives in this compound anymore, none as far as I could remember. Grandpa once said, bless his soul, that this building was used as a halfway house for the street children born out of wedlock between some servicemen stationed at the base nearby and the ladies working in the local striptease bars during the sixties and early seventies. But five years after the Vietnam war had ended, the property was gradually abandoned and the children were either transferred someplace or were sent for adoption. Before long, most of them returned to the streets hustling.
There is no doubt that the addressee no longer lives here so I thought of replacing the torn envelop and return your letter to the post office. However, in the process, I saw your picture and the ten dollar note along with the letter you wrote to the three young children that you were trying to correspond with, Felisa, Saturnina and Juanita. I have to admit that I read your letter out of curiosity and would like to express my sincere apology for my recklessness in doing so, awkwardly.
Your letter was dated February 22,1963 and it was posted a week later in Da Nang, Vietnam, as validated by the stamped seal that is still legible on the torn envelop. In any case, that would be about ten years ago so I'm guessing that you must be around thirty years old by now, judging from the photo that you have included in the letter. I also have no idea why this letter was delivered late by the postal service other than the fact that the addressee are without proper surnames.
The photograph is partly washed out and blurry but I can still clearly distinguish the army uniform that you were wearing, the horrified faces of the young soldiers in the act of ducking their shaved heads behind a pile of sandbags next to where you were standing and the bullet-riddled helmet with two strip marks up front fluttering over your scraggly head. You were once a soldier in the Vietnam war and may have probably spent a few R & R days in the country, that I reckon, so it was of no consequence that you may have known the children somehow during one of those sought after leisure forays. It was really thoughtful of you to send a few spending money to the young teenyboppers, as how you called them, who probably would have been very glad had they received this letter from you. But there are some nagging question that still haunt me and kept me from being grateful for your supposedly kind and generous intentions while looking at your photo.
What are those white streaks that seems to pierce through your chest with red splotches spurting on your backside?
Why is your face in anguish instead of smiling for the camera?
Why were you totally naked from the waist down and clutching a pink teddy bear instead of a gun?'
You don't need to answer that.
I've already changed my mind.
I'm keeping the letter.
And the photograph!
Yours truly,
Ms Farrah Fawcett, 21
Rm.04, Bldg.3A Sampaguita Dorm II
Good Shepherd Sanitarium
Olongapo, Pampanga
ps: I'm keeping the money too, if you don't mind. Ta-dah!
'Hello there, Miss Farrah'.
'What are you writing about? '
'I bet it's for one of your huge fanbase correspondence again, ain't I right?, an orderly who was taking the rounds kiddingly asked.
'No,no,no', Saturnina replied giggling.
'It's for a handsome guy I knew a long time ago'.
'Same guy'?, the orderly inquired.
'Yup!', she nodded chuckling.
'Okay then'. ' So sorry for the interruption but it's time for you to take your medications now', the orderly smiled back as he glanced towards the clock that was hanging from the padded wall full of vintage Charlie's Angels posters.
'By the way, your friend Felisa and Juanita from the other ward send their best wishes on your 70th birthday', he added.
'Charlie's!', Saturnina hollered back with one upraised fisted hand then giggled uncontrollably.
With the exception of Saturnina and her fellow guests, everybody in the facility knew that the orderly lied.
Both young girls were already dead, some say molested and then strangled to death, while the local acquiescent authorities confusingly ruled it a double suicide in a run-down drive-in motel room half a mile east of Olongapo sixty years ago.
One young girl barely survived.
Farrah Fawcett, aged 11.
