To the Peacemaker

Dear Richard,

This is a confession.

I broke the first rule. I told my mother. She wanted to know where I’d been and after she refused my usual story, I told her. She does not know who is involved. I want you to understand that. I wouldn’t tell her no matter how hard she tried or what she threatened. But she knows enough to understand what’s been going on.

After I told her, she sent me to my room. I’m here now. She’s on the phone. I don’t know who she’s talking to, but I can guess. There may be trouble. She’s a believer. I’ve known that in my heart all along. Until now I could pretend that she was faking, that she was just trying to survive it like the rest of us. But I know she’s a believer. I hear it in her voice through the door. There will be trouble.

It’s hard to describe how I feel. I'm sorry. She asked and asked. I lied as I always have, but you were right, the lying gets harder. Every day we studied I could feel the truth welling within me. I tried to be firm in the telling of it. I tried to remember the rules and why they are important. I tried to keep my head. I wasn’t successful, not completely. I did manage not to raise my voice in anger. I know that’s not enough, but it’s something. Isn’t it?

At this point, I have to make a decision. I knew this day would come. You always told us it would. It had to. I just never expected it so soon. Though I suppose we rarely know what to expect. As you say, it would have been nice of Fate to give us an outline.

I want to thank you for the peace you’ve helped me discover. Your guidance has meant more to me than I can express. I may never fully repay you, but I will try to use your lessons well. I know that now, no matter my decision, everything has changed. I know this is my time of trial. I think I understand now what you meant by that phrase. I feel ready.

As I have told you, as we’ve all told you, I’ve spend many sleepless nights thinking about what it’s like on the other side. I have the photo you gave me -- your mother’s family on the beach. It may be in black and white, but I swear I can see the blue of the ocean. I long to see that ocean, to really see it, and to feel its cool water roll over my feet. Does the beach have a scent? I want to find out. I want to feel the sun. I want to lie on the sand and watch the people – the free people – walk by in their swimsuits. I want a dog like your mother’s. I want to be as happy as she and her family seem.

There it is. I’ve made my decision. Maybe this letter is more of a goodbye than a confession, though I suppose it’s also a warning. I know putting this on paper is dangerous, but how could I not? You have to know. I hope you and the others are not harmed by my actions. My leaving is the best thing. If I’m gone I can’t answer their questions.

I’ll leave this letter in our usual place. When I’m not at practice tomorrow, I’m sure you’ll send someone to fetch it. Tell them not to look for me. Not to ask after me. Not to draw suspicion toward the group. Believe I made it. That’s the last thing I ask of you. No matter what, believe I made it.


Yours in love and gratitude,

Kate

Ice Poems

Ice cold crickets
In my lemonade
Ma'am!
Could you see to these
Crickets, please

+++

precious icy-cold refreshment.
i sense resentment,
when i ask for a refill.

+++

the water glass looked
like ice
cold in the moonlight
on the windowsill
where she'd left it

Zombie Haiku

Heart, released from Mind,
sails not on winds passionate.
obeys Stomach now.


of mindless demands
"Respect" reigns above all else
destruction ensues