Sleep. Hard though it was, didn't last long for Tea. The sun shown brightly throughout the cabin and she could stay still no longer. She went through her morning ritual, brushing her teeth with her all natural tooth paste, of course, combing her hair, taking notice that the length was finally getting past that awkward stage of piling on her neck and finally starting to grow out. She'd leave it alone for now. "No salon around the corner," she sighed. "But a gorgeous man at my beck and call," she laughed to herself. She managed through the rest of the morning alone and began to really awaken. What would she do all alone in the cabin to pass the time, until Todd returned? What any red blooded American woman would do! She would snoop!
She looked around the cabin for interesting things. Insights into Todd. She quickly realized that the cabin, was, for the most part, empty. She rambled around in the kitchen but found nothing really to her liking. She turned the music on again from the night before and smiled. Content in her thoughts, she sat in the only chair in the place that wasn't at the kitchen table. She found herself at an antique desk. There, sitting before her, she couldn't believe her eyes. The moon. Her gift to Todd sitting right there in front of her. He had written her name on it.. She was so moved. The only other thing on the desk? Papers. "I can read," she thought to herself. She rummaged around and still found nothing interesting or revealing. Until, at last, she stumbled upon a stack of what looked like old letters with a satin ribbon tied around them. Slowly, she untied the satin ribbon, noting the care that was originally taken to wrap them up. She also noticed the youthfulness and childlike handwriting on some of the letters. She noticed yet a second set of letters. These letters seemed more mature and feminine somehow. She realized what she had in her hands was Todd's history. His life. Sitting, right there in her hands. All her unanswered questions, tied neatly with a satin bow. Or would these letters only lead to more questions? No matter the answer, she knew she had to look.
Here, in her hands, she had the many, many letters he had written to his mother, with this cabin's address on them. The second set had Todd's Chicago address on them. He obviously had spent his time in this cabin, piecing together what had gone wrong in his life, specifically his childhood. He seemed to be examining how he had lost his connection with his mother and was somehow trying to get it back. Wild horses couldn't keep her from reading these letters. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a small coffee pot. Now if she could just find some coffee, she could curl up with the letters out on the front porch and read for a while. Surely, she'd be able to hear Todd's car coming far enough away to put the letters back.
One by one, she read each and every letter in Bitsy's stack. Part of her felt bad for invading his privacy and the depths of the emotions involved that she was intruding. But instincts told her to reach on, to learn, to absorb their purpose and their meaning. She could tell the letters were worn, from constant reading. The young, frightened little boy, who still needed his mother's words of comfort, love and reassurance.
"I hope today finds you well and in good spirits," Bitsy had started a letter. "I heard your team won the homecoming game last night. I heard your name was prominent in the newspapers this morning. You’re being heralded as the town hero. You have to know, no matter what you do in life, you’ll always be a hero to me. I’m so proud of you! I'm having one sent to me. I can't wait to see your name on the front page of the newspaper! Maybe it's a sign of things to come."
How eerie and ironic Bitsy's written words were. How prophetic. She must surely be watching down on him. She some how mystically knows that his name was on the front page of the Sun daily. How awesome it all is. "My love for you, although you do not know it or hear it, is strong, never ending and forever. I love you Tom."
Tea: My God! She did call him Tom! How truly unnerving this was for her to read. (How truly unnerving this must all be for Todd, she thought.)
She carefully replaced each letter in its original envelope, sadly noting the monsters evil handwriting on each one. RETURN TO SENDER.
Tea: What a bastard! (she caught herself saying aloud)
She read them all and meticulously noted their order and ended by re-tying the satin ribbon to the stack. "What a wonderful mom she could have been to Todd," she thought. “What a wonderful mom, she was to Todd.” "If only he had been raised by her. If he had only known this then." Tea felt her heart drop inside her chest.
As Tea walked inside to replace the stack of letters back where they belonged, she noticed one, single, solitary letter sitting vertical in the slot where she had found the others. It seemed not to belong with the others.
Tea: (aloud) I’ve gone this far, might as well go all the way. I’ll never get an opportunity like this again.
She saw a name printed on the outside of the envelope. Although the handwriting was not distinguishable, the nickname used for Todd was undeniable. “To Boomer” it was written in big bold letters. The letter was definitely from Sam. Before going any further, she realized she had seen this envelope before. Todd had been carrying it around town the night that Sam had hurt him so deeply. The night that Todd had thought that Sam had totally betrayed him. Going on from this moment further would mean delving into Todd’s horrible ugly past. Although the letters she had read so far were revealing, they were lighthearted and spoke of maternal love, joy and pride. They were letters that showed just how wonderful his mother was, yet how weak and vulnerable, because she was unable to whisk him away as she had found peace, solitude and most importantly safety away from Peter. And although she could see similarities between herself and Bitsy, as these letters were most deliberately from the frightened little bunny, she could hardly take the comparison to the next level and equate Peter Manning with Sykes. “My God, Todd was right. He knows me better than I know myself. Well, at least I’m not the frightened little bunny when I’m around him.”
She refilled her coffee cup, curled up tightly in the comfort of the lounge chair out on the front porch, covered most of her body with the blanket she had slept with the night before, the one that had Todd’s scent on it and prepared herself to enter Todd’s dark side. Or quite possibly even worse…Peter’s dark side…
