A Letter Slid Under the Door

Dear Charlie,

There was this time when I was maybe twelve – it was long after Clara and Daddy adopted me – when I was jealous. You and Jason had found Dodge and were spending all your time with him and it was hard at first to track you down. I had to go to school, I had this family I had to learn to be a part of but then I’d find you two and you’d be off being best friends with some stupid boy in a stupid hat and you were all so happy and I thought you didn’t need me anymore. At twelve, that made more sense than it probably does now.

But then Daddy died and you both were there for me and when I had to leave school and work, I know you both looked out for me. I don’t know if that caused you any trouble. I can only imagine the questions about some silly girl working in the diner who paints in the park and what is she to anyone and especially you two.

I may have been closer to Jason but I had him longer but it didn’t mean that you were anything less than a brother to me either. It didn’t mean I worried any less when you got into fights and got hurt. I’d cry about it. I don’t know if you ever knew that or not. I cried a lot for you because you didn’t belong there. You were the one who had a family and was normal and wanted and it wasn’t fair to you.

When you got pinched, I’d never been so scared in my life. I tried to visit you in lock-up but they wouldn’t let me see you so when you got transferred to prison I took the first bus up I could get. When Jason found out what I was doing, he didn’t say much. I stopped seeing him around for awhile. I don’t know if it was because I was seeing you or if because they were doing more foolish things, but those two years you were the one I wanted to talk to. Maybe it was the absence making the heart grow fond, but I think it was because we both needed each other. I didn’t want you to feel alone and you made me feel wanted. There isn’t anyone who ever makes me feel wanted, not even Jason. It isn’t a second best sort of thing, it’s just that Jason, while he looked out for me, while I was his special girl, it was never… I was firmly in the ‘little sister’ category of tag along. Where sometimes I felt like I was cramping his style or something.

I never, ever doubted where I stood with you.

The forging thing was an accident. The way it started. I was practicing and I was painting and I thought I could do something. Sell them as prints. Wouldn’t make nearly as much but I could do something like that. And then I saw the article and I thought that forging would get me more.

I could pin it on Dodge.

Even when I wasn’t really planning on doing it that was always the end game in my mind. I would get this money and then turn over and pin everything on Dodge. Police or Mob, I’d never quite decided. The tricky part would have been getting him to sell them for me.

The paintings couldn’t have been tracked to me. I’m not the only artist in this city. I work for a member of society at an art gallery. I would never condone such an act of plagiarism on something I hold so dear. And even still, I didn’t sell the paintings myself. Dodge would have. Dodge who was currently conning every decision maker in the city. The only real evidence would have been my folder which I could have gotten back.

He let you fall for him. I wasn’t going to ever forgive him of that.

And I’m sorry I hurt you in that process. I know you thought I was defending him but I couldn’t tell you what I had been thinking to do when I had even really, truly decided to do it. I only decided to when my hand got hurt. I’m barely holding a paintbrush at this point; I certainly can’t hold a heavy diner tray with it anymore. I’m scared I’m never going to be able to use it again. Who would ever hire a laborer with a gimp hand?

Was I stupid? Probably. There were so many things that might have gone wrong but I had all the cards. Because he hurt someone that I care about. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

No, I’m not the girl I used to be. Neither of you realize it and that’s okay. I understand why you think of me the way you do. It’s some kind of illusion of safety I suppose. Maybe of something done right. Something in your lives that isn’t touched by everything that goes on. I stopped being that girl the day I went after you. That was the turning point. No going back. It doesn’t mean that it’s your fault. It was going to happen eventually. And no, I was never as blind to what you boys did as you probably liked to have thought I was. The two role models in my life were criminals. Forging sort of seemed like a good idea.

It’s just not worth losing you over and I’m not letting you walk away without knowing everything.

Love,
Maddy