George hesitantly removed the single opened letter from the shoe box. He looked at the greeting remembering that Gerald would elbow him in the ribs and a show of affection.
Dear LBro,
This letter should arrive about the same time you get home. I trust your trip was comfortable. I had always wanted to sleep in a Pullman style car and eat in a dining car. I would wonder about the other passengers - who they were, where they were going. We could make up stories about them, like we did about the people in the diner in St Louis. You always did have a great imagination, George.
I know you were pretty upset when you got on the train. I’m sorry that what I said hurt you. I had gone all my life without telling you who I thought I was. In fact, I am still barely able to put words to my thoughts and feelings. It was starting to hurt, like I was lying to you. That’s the last thing I want to do, lie to you. I went this long, I can go the rest of my life without saying more. You know the truth. I just hope that you’ll forgive me and write back.
Your loving BBro,
Gerald
George never knew if Gerald had kept his promise. But he did know that Gerald had never previously broken a promise to him. Gerald kept writing, at least once a month, often more. George had vowed on the train that he had no brother. He had never broken that vow. His hands shook as he put the letter back in the envelope. With a nod of assent, he handed the box to Clare.
*****
On Saturday, Ms. Kincaid walked next door with a plate of brownies. She let herself in, calling out a Hello and getting an answering call from the back deck. She had to avoid the scurrying schnauzer who brought her an already soggy ball. Ms. Kincaid had lived next door to Navy Admiral Frank Kearsarge, Ret., since she moved in just after accepting the teaching job at the high school. She’d been close to his wife Jan before she passed away of cancer. He’d become a good friend, almost a second father to her. He watched her house when she took brief trips during summer break, and she watched Captain, the Schnauzer, when the Admiral went to visit his son and daughter-in-law in Seattle. The brownies were a bribe. She knew how much he loved brownies, and she had a favor to ask.
The Admiral followed her back inside and started a fresh pot of coffee. Over a fresh cup and a couple brownies, Ms Kincaid asked the Admiral if he’d be willing to talk to a student of hers, and then she shared a copy of the article about Seals finding the Soviet submarine off the coast of San Diego in 2010. The Admiral, who loved a good mystery was hooked from the beginning.
— Lkai
Dear LBro,
This letter should arrive about the same time you get home. I trust your trip was comfortable. I had always wanted to sleep in a Pullman style car and eat in a dining car. I would wonder about the other passengers - who they were, where they were going. We could make up stories about them, like we did about the people in the diner in St Louis. You always did have a great imagination, George.
I know you were pretty upset when you got on the train. I’m sorry that what I said hurt you. I had gone all my life without telling you who I thought I was. In fact, I am still barely able to put words to my thoughts and feelings. It was starting to hurt, like I was lying to you. That’s the last thing I want to do, lie to you. I went this long, I can go the rest of my life without saying more. You know the truth. I just hope that you’ll forgive me and write back.
Your loving BBro,
Gerald
George never knew if Gerald had kept his promise. But he did know that Gerald had never previously broken a promise to him. Gerald kept writing, at least once a month, often more. George had vowed on the train that he had no brother. He had never broken that vow. His hands shook as he put the letter back in the envelope. With a nod of assent, he handed the box to Clare.
*****
On Saturday, Ms. Kincaid walked next door with a plate of brownies. She let herself in, calling out a Hello and getting an answering call from the back deck. She had to avoid the scurrying schnauzer who brought her an already soggy ball. Ms. Kincaid had lived next door to Navy Admiral Frank Kearsarge, Ret., since she moved in just after accepting the teaching job at the high school. She’d been close to his wife Jan before she passed away of cancer. He’d become a good friend, almost a second father to her. He watched her house when she took brief trips during summer break, and she watched Captain, the Schnauzer, when the Admiral went to visit his son and daughter-in-law in Seattle. The brownies were a bribe. She knew how much he loved brownies, and she had a favor to ask.
The Admiral followed her back inside and started a fresh pot of coffee. Over a fresh cup and a couple brownies, Ms Kincaid asked the Admiral if he’d be willing to talk to a student of hers, and then she shared a copy of the article about Seals finding the Soviet submarine off the coast of San Diego in 2010. The Admiral, who loved a good mystery was hooked from the beginning.
— Lkai
Another person to help with the mystery! (That prompt sorta did that to me, too. I had to add another character!) This story is humming along! Well-done! (Macoff)
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