My Daughter, Audrey [ON HOLD]

The Child's Letter

“Daddy!  Daddy!”  Audrey screamed as she strangled the white sheet pulled taught over her wriggling body. “Daddy!”

               “What is it?”  came Helen’s raspy voice instead.   She flipped the lamp on beside Audrey’s beside.   “Stop that!  You’ll wake the dead!”  Helen propped her fists on her hips as she watched the terrified child crying underneath the bed sheets.  “Stop that, right now!”  She struck the lump, sending Audrey still.  “There.  Daddy isn’t here, he won’t before a long time.”

               Audrey pulled the sheets out from under her head and held it close under her chin.   Her eyes welled up and she broke into staggered whimpers.  “Why did you hit me?  Daddy or Mommy never did that to me.  And I was ruined Daddy’s sewing pattern by spilling milk over it.  He didn’t hit me.”

               “That’s because he’s an irresponsible father!  You need discipline and you don’t need to be scared of stupid stuff like the dark!  Now, shut your mouth and go to sleep!  Your grandfather needs to rest, too, you wake him up, you little brat, he’ll have a hard time going back to sleep.”  Helen switched the light off and stormed out of the room, shutting the door loudly behind her.

               Audrey brushed away her tears and slid out of bed.  She kept her eyes on the door while se tiptoed over to her suitcase.   Her steps were light and soft— not even a mouse could have been disturbed by her nighttime mission.   Audrey crouched beside her tan case and unlocked it.  She opened it up and shot a hand into the dark box.   Her tongue stuck out in thought as her fingers sifted through the layers of clothes, toys, and other miscellaneous objects that she had forgotten that packed.  She pulled out a handful of objects and closed the case.   Audrey climbed back into her bed and clicked on her bedside lamp.   Gently and methodically, she laid out the precious objects.  A pencil, the primary colored pencils, five sheets of paper, and a small brown Teddy bear that had an even smaller Teddy bear in her arms—this was the gift Jennie had brought back for Audrey.

               Audrey placed a blank sheet of paper onto the table beside her and began scribbling out large letters.

Dear Daddy,

               I miss you.  I want to come home soon.  My Grandpa is nice, but he won’t let me have sweets.  Mommy’s mean, she won’t let me do much.  I miss you and my real Mommy.  Write back soon?

                                                                                                                        Signed, Audrey

               Audrey picked up her pencil and tapped the rubber end against her chin pensively.   She returned the pencil to the paper and drew a dark line across her name.  Below it, she wrote:  Ace.  Audrey picked up her letter and held it against the light to study it.   Her mouth swiveled to one side in dissatisfaction.  Even at her elementary age, she knew very well her writing wasn’t “grown-up” looking.  But she was proud that she could spell most of the words right, so she did not through it in the trash bin.  Audrey placed the pencil down and reached behind her for her colored pencils. 

               She drew another picture of Peter holding her and Jennie standing behind them with the yellow dog under the table.   Audrey added in different bowls of food on the table and made a fire in the fireplace.   She added a bird flying in and the sunshine shining through.   Underneath the picture she wrote, Daddy holding me, Mommy and Scout, a bird, and the sun.  Audrey hopped out of the bed again and folded up the note.   She didn’t know where the envelopes were, so she just tucked the letter under her pillow and planned to post it tomorrow when she went out with her grandfather.   Audrey sighed in contentment and her fear of the dark was gone—her thoughts were consumed by the idea of mailing the letter and getting a letter back.  

               “Oh, I forgot!”  Audrey reached up and turned off the light.   She curled up in a tight ball and began counting sheep.   “Baa one, baa two, baa three, baa four," Audrey stopped to yawn before resuming at a slower pace, each sheep fading out until she had completely fallen asleep. "Baa five, baa six, baa seven, baa...”