Dear Andy

Dear Andy,


I finally found you.  So much happened to us ten years ago, but I’m sure you will agree that it’s all water under the bridge.  I was standing across the street the other day, watching you get in the car with your little girlfriend from next door.  It was early in the morning, so I guess you were both going to school.  You looked great, Andy, all grown up at sixteen and driving.  Your girlfriend is one hot chick.  I saw you take a quick glance around before kissing her in the car.  Nice.


Oh, I wanted to tell you I saw some other friends that you left behind.  Chatty Cathy was your mom’s doll, but you played with her, too.  You had me worried at first, fooling around with girl dolls.  When your mom brought me to you, though, I was a diversion from those chicks.  Made me feel good.  But, back to Chatty Cathy.  She was in a home for the mute because her voice box finally gave out.  I put her out of her misery.


The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles that you loved so much….are dead.  They put up a good stance, fought bravely, but they too succumbed.  Fluffy guts coming out of their stomachs, their backs and legs.  The air around us was covered in white, a snowstorm of silence.  It was beautiful.


Then I found your buddy, GI Joe.  He was your favorite.  Great guys, those military men.  He was so cocky, ready to defend you on a moment’s notice.  I remember he tried to trip me up one time, when I was reaching for you.  Put me in one of those wrestling holds–I think it was a pile driver– and dropped me off the side of the bed.  That hurt.  Felt good throwing him out of the tenth floor window once I found him.  He fell into the pool.  Drowned.  Oops.


I was disappointed your mom took you so far away.  That wasn’t nice, Andy.  I missed you and wanted to be with you.  I wanted us to join bodies and minds.  So we could be as one, like I had planned before.  Before you ran from me at the psychiatric ward they kept you in.  Before that stupid cop helped your mother try to burn me.  Before he tried to tear out my heart.


It didn’t work, Andy.  I’m back.  Ten years is a long time, but you’re in high school now.  I think I’ll walk over there to check out your friends, Andy.  See what they’re doing later.  See what mischief I can get into after they’ve gone to bed.  What do you think, Andy?  Can we meet later on?  I have an idea!  Let’s meet at your girlfriend’s house.  She doesn’t have a fireplace, does she?


Say “hi” to your mom for me, Andy.










1 Comment

  1. W. V. Kahler said,

    May 26, 2012 at 1:05 am

    I love the concept and the writing.

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