It just says two words: “Your dead.” He didn’t even spell “you’re” right.

Dear Dad,

You’re right. Misty Lee is definitely the villain in this story. You’ll never guess who the victim is.

Misty Lee told Will Mudgett that she still liked me and was hoping we could get back together again. That’s what she was saying when she smiled at him.

Guess how I found out. In social studies, Will Mudgett slipped me a note. I have it here. It just says two words: “Your dead.” He didn’t even spell “you’re” right. He’s the creepiest bad speller I know.

At the end of class, I showed the note to Donnie Joad, who asked Sharon King about it, who then told Donnie what Misty had said to Will. Donnie told me, all wide-eyed like he gets when he’s excited about something.

So now I’m back on Will Mudgett’s hit list. I do NOT want to get back together with Misty Lee. And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to get back together with me.

I could tell Will Mudgett that I don’t like her, because I don’t. But he’ll probably think I’m saying that because I’m a chicken.

I could tell Misty Lee that I don’t like her, but I’m pretty sure she’d figure some way to twist that around in a way that would still mess me up. She’s smarter than I am, at least at this kind of stuff.

I think I’ll tell Donnie Joad to talk to Will Mudgett and set him straight. Tell him I have no interest in that frizzy-haired girl. Is that chickening out?

Your son,

Tom

I can’t imagine that she’ll say yes, but what do I know about girls.

Dear Dad,

The big news today is that Will Mudgett is supposedly going to ask Misty Lee to go with him tomorrow. I can’t imagine that she’ll say yes, but what do I know about girls.

Whenever I saw Misty Lee today, she was surrounded by about five other girls, all whispering and shaking their heads. Whenever I saw Will Mudgett, he was either by himself or with his only friend, Chuck Klein, who wears these huge, fake diamonds in his pierced ears.

It’s kind of a relief to have Will Mudgett moving his focus off of me and onto Misty Lee, because he was still freaking me out on a regular basis. He still sits by me in social studies, when he decides to show up. Sometimes, when I look over at him, he is just staring at me like he wishes I was dead. Donnie still thinks I should just punch him or something. Like Donnie would ever do anything like that. I spent half of fourth grade fighting for Donnie when a fifth grader would pick on him.

I don’t know how everyone knows what Will Mudgett is going to do. My guess is that he told Chuck and Chuck told someone else and then, about 5 seconds later, the whole seventh grade knew.

So now I’m on this side. I’m a watcher. And Will Mudgett is the performing monkey. Misty Lee—I would never call her a performing monkey, because she knows what she’s doing and loooves being the center of attention. It doesn’t matter if it’s because of a freak like Will Mudgett. If it meant that she’d be surrounded by a crowd of other girls all day, Misty Lee would probably go out with Hitler or something.

Anyway, it’s all supposed to go down tomorrow at lunch. I’ll be there watching.

Your son,

Trevor

Misty Lee dumped me today.

Dear Dad,

There is no way I’m talking to Mom about her razor stubble. But I did ask her where your funeral was held. I was pretty sure it was at Pastor Mel’s church—Grace Baptist. It was. She said she doesn’t really remember that much about it either, but that more than 300 people showed up. That’s pretty cool, I guess. I have a vague memory of sitting in the front row, I think. Or maybe that’s a memory of when I was baptized. They all blur together for me.

Pastor Mel’s dead, by the way. One day he was healthy and the next he was dead. I think something burst inside his brain, but if you ask Mom about it, she’ll say that God took him home like Elijah. Like Pastor Mel was so beloved by God that God couldn’t stand not having him in heaven. I think that’s a stretch. I mean, I liked the guy and everything, but let’s not get carried away.

We stopped going to church there after Pastor Mel died, because they brought in some guy from out-of-state to take his place. Reverend Howard B. Dapple from Wichita Falls, Kansas. He pronounced Washington with an R. Warshington. He sweated a lot when he talked and always held a hankie in one hand to swipe across his face. Now we go to this dumb church right up on Dash Point Road, about a half mile from the grocery store. I don’t like it. The pastor reminds me of Mrs. Fletcher at school, because I think he hates kids. He gives me dirty looks right from the pulpit if he catches me doodling during his sermons. What am I supposed to do? Just sit there? The guy thinks he is a good speaker. He’s not. He tries really hard to get himself all worked into a frenzy, but all it does is get these creepy pockets of white foam forming at the corner of his mouth. Gross.

Misty Lee dumped me today. She wouldn’t say that she dumped me, but she pretty much did. She gave me a note on heart-shaped paper. I have it right here in front of me now. It says, “Dear Trevor, I’m sorry I can’t be the kind of girlfriend you want me to be. I hope we can still be friends. You’re a great guy! Love, Misty.”

She had Sharon King give it to me. Sharon stood there while I read it. When I didn’t say anything, she said, “That means she’s breaking up with you.” I said, “Oh.” She said, “Do you want me to tell her anything for you?” I said no. “Nothing? You should say something.” So I said she could tell Misty to have a nice day. She thought I was being a jerk and she said so.

By the end of the day, Sharon King got dumped by Rick Jarvis. Serves her right. All three of them are complete dorks.

Mrs. Fletcher the math troll sent a note home with me to get signed by Mom, which says I’m getting a D in math. Mom asked why. I said I didn’t know. Mom asked what she was supposed to do. I said she had to sign the note so I could prove that she knew about it. She said that it was ridiculous that they didn’t trust me. She told me not to worry about the D, because she said she knew I’d figure it out because I was such a smart boy and a good student and all that, because we both know Mom only believes her kids are perfect, even when they’re not. She acts the same way about you. Even when she tells stories about things you did that she didn’t like, she has this way of surrounding the facts in a kind of glow that still makes you sound so wonderful.

Mrs. Robbins, one of our neighbors, dropped by a cassette tape on Monday when I was home from school. She asked me to give it to Mom, but I hadn’t yet. I tossed it in my room. Mom asked about it, saying that Mrs. Robbins had called and asked if Mom had heard the tape yet, because you were talking on it. They’d recorded it at a party. I went to get it, but decided to listen to it before I gave it to Mom.

So I popped it in the cassette player and you and Mom and Mr. and Mrs. Robbins were singing “I’m an Old Cowhand.” None of you sounded very good. One guy’s voice was really off key and warbly. Then when the song ended, that same voice yelled, “Let’s do that again!” and started singing all alone. Horrible and really drunk. Then the other male voice said, “Hey Hugh, don’t quit your day job!” There was laughter and then the tape ended. That was it.

So that was you. I’d never really thought about what you sounded like before. Now at least I know what you sound like drunk. Your voice is kind of high and froggy. Not what I’d imagined. I rewound the tape and brought it in to Mom, asking her what it was. She said she’d listen to it and let me know. She took it upstairs and I haven’t heard about it again.

I haven’t heard back from Drew yet, so I have no answers for you about what the Bible says about where you are. In the mean time, I totally understand why you don’t want to get on the boat. It sure sounds like it must be going to Hell. I can’t imagine something that creepy would be the way you get to heaven. I’d love to hear more about the captain. You said it’s a she and that she’s really creepy. Is she covered in blood, too?

Your son,

Trevor

P.S. What day is it there?

If I go to school, I’ll have to either kiss a girl, fight a guy, or both.

Dear Dad,

I stayed home from school today. If I go to school, I’ll have to either kiss a girl, fight a guy, or both.

I feel like I spent half the weekend on the phone and the other half in the bathroom, because I barfed a lot this weekend.

Will Mudgett actually called me at home Friday night to tell me he was going to kill me. On Monday. After school. He actually called me and told me that. I told him that was fine. I’d fight him and he could try to kill me if he wanted. He said he’d talked to a cousin of his who was going to kill Misty Lee, too. I told him that sounded pretty stupid and I didn’t believe him. He told me to wait and see.

Misty Lee called me at home, too. About once every half an hour. Mom thought it was cute the first couple of times, and then started getting cranky about it. When it was past nine o’clock and she was still calling, Mom started saying things like, “What kind of girl calls boys at home at this hour?”

Here’s one thing I’ve learned. Misty Lee can talk for a long time. Here’s another thing: she has nothing to say. She just talks. Is this what all girls do? I don’t really like talking on the phone. I don’t even answer it unless Mom yells at me.

Misty asked me if Will Mudgett had talked to me. I told her he wanted to fight me, and she said, “Really? Are you going to?” I said I would if he wanted to. I didn’t tell her that talking about it made me want to puke. She seemed to think that was pretty exciting and kept asking me all sorts of questions about it. “Have you ever been in fights before?” Yes. I didn’t tell her that I was pretty sure grade school fights were pretty different than it would be to fight with Will Mudgett and his knife, if he had one. “Where would you fight him?” I don’t know. Wherever. “Could I watch?” I guess. “Aren’t you afraid of getting in trouble?” I haven’t really thought about it.

I didn’t tell Misty Lee that Will Mudgett said he was going to kill me and I didn’t tell her he was going to kill her. I mean, come on. The whole thing sounds so stupid right now, as I write this. Will Mudgett is not going to kill anyone. Especially because of a frizzy-haired girl like Misty Lee.

Of course, if Will Mudgett killed Misty Lee and then went to jail, all my troubles would be over.

On Saturday night, Misty Lee started calling again. She told me she asked her mom if I could come with her the next weekend to an overnight event at her church. She said that Rick Jarvis and Sharon King would be there, too. I said it sounded OK and that I’d ask my mom. I know my mom will say yes, because she always says yes to anything that has to do with church. If I asked if I could go to a public hanging, she’d say yes, as long as it was at a church.

Misty Lee said that when I come to school on Monday, she is going to give me a real kiss, on the lips. She said she’d give me a French kiss if I wanted. I didn’t say anything. I know a French kiss has something to do with tongues, which sounds pretty gross to me, but that’s about all I know. Maybe it’s wonderful, but what the heck am I supposed to do with my tongue? Stick it in her mouth?

I had the worst butterflies in my stomach all weekend. Every time I thought about going to school on Monday, I just wanted to barf. I did, about half the time. Mom thought I was really sick. Rhonda kept looking at me like she knew something was going on. I did get to stay home from church on Sunday, which I suppose was good, but all I did was lay around and watch nothing on TV and try not to barf.

Now it’s Monday. It’s about 11 o’clock in the morning. I stole some more stamps out of Mom’s purse last night. I don’t think she’d mind if she knew I was writing to you, but if I ask her, she’ll think I’m crazy and she’ll want to talk. And probably pray.

I want to make sure I get this letter in the mailbox before the mailman gets here. Because I want you to tell me what I should do. I mean, I stayed home from school today. I can say I was sick, right? Because I was barfing. But I suppose I’m kind of chickening out, too. Should I fight Will Mudgett? Should I kiss Misty Lee? And what the heck do I do with my tongue?

Your son,

Trevor

I officially have a girlfriend. And a death threat.

Dear Dad,

I officially have a girlfriend. And a death threat. I’m not sure which one scares me more.

Walking in to the lunchroom today was a weird experience. A bunch of my friends and a bunch of girls were lined up against the wall. Misty Lee was sitting at a table by herself. I walked over to Donnie Joad and said what’s up, but he just kept smiling like a dork and nodding his head toward Misty Lee. All my friends and all these girls were there to watch it go down. “Watch it go down.” That sounds like a line from a movie. Anyway, I felt like a performing monkey.

Finally, I walked over to Misty Lee’s table and sat across from her. I said hi. She said hi. She bit into a potato chip and then said something about how much she loved sour cream and onion potato chips. I said me too. Even though I don’t really like them. I prefer barbecue. Or even plain. Sour cream and onion make my breath feel kind of warm in a way I don’t like. Then Misty Lee said, “If you were to ask me something, I’d probably say yes.” For a second, I thought about asking her if she would do all my math homework. Or split firewood for me. I wonder if she’d say yes to that. She’s probably good at math, but I bet she couldn’t split a knotty piece of fir. Then Will Mudgett walked through the door and saw me.

This is the second time I’ve seen Will Mudgett get mad. His face gets really red and his eyes look really dark and he makes me think of Yosemite Sam, except with glasses and without the big moustache. He could totally snap and kill someone.

None of my friends seemed to give a crap about Will Mudgett possibly stabbing me. I looked over at Donnie Joad and he was still smiling and nodding his head toward Misty Lee. So I nodded my head toward Will Mudgett, the psychopath. Donnie looked over at him, shrugged, smiled, and nodded his head toward Misty Lee.

Right then, I figured it out. I was entertainment. I was a performing monkey. Whether I asked Misty Lee to go with me or fought with Will Mudgett, my friends just wanted to watch. Sex and violence. That’s all that people want to see these days.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to have sex with Misty Lee.

But I also didn’t want any violence from Will Mudgett.

But I still liked the idea of Misty Lee wanting to be my girlfriend. So I asked. “Do you?”

“Do I what?” she smiled at me.

“Do you want to go together?” And even though she’d already told me that she’d say yes, I started panicking. What if she said no?

But she didn’t. She said yes. Then she looked around, leaned across the table, and kissed me on my cheek. A bunch of my friends hooted like the idiots they are. I looked over and saw Will Mudgett, who glared at me until I thought his eyes would bug out of his head and steam would come out of his ears. Then he turned and stomped out the door. “Now what?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” asked Misty Lee. “Now I’m your girlfriend, that’s what.”

Honestly, right then I thought I was going to barf. What the heck did I want with a girlfriend? How the heck am I supposed to act around her? I don’t even like Misty Lee.

How long do you think I need to wait until I break up with her?

Your son,

Trevor