I actually like my English class.

September 9th, 2009

Dear Dad,

 

I guess I should tell you why I’m writing you these letters. I kind of have to do it. I mean, I don’t have to write letters, but I have to write in a journal every day for my English class homework. No one gets to read what I write, not even my English teacher, Mrs. Henry. I asked her if, instead of writing in a journal, I could write letters to you. She knows you’re gone, so at first she gave me a funny look. Then she nodded and said that it actually seemed like a really good idea. I don’t think she knows I’m mailing them, but if she did, she probably wouldn’t care.

 

I actually like my English class. Mrs. Henry is pretty cool. She’s kind of an old hippie. Not in a good-looking way or anything. I don’t think she’s all that old, but she’s kind of wrinkly. I think she may have spent a lot of time outside or something. She calls her wrinkles smile lines and says that she tries to smile a lot to keep them growing in the right direction. Yesterday she played a record by Simon and Garfunkel, which was dorky, but at least she made an effort, you know? While it was playing, we were supposed to just write however the music made us feel. The only rule was to keep the pencil moving the entire time. I wrote a couple of pages of complete nonsense. Parsley, sage and Rosemary’s baby. That was my best line. Simon and Garfunkel. Lame.

 

Mr. Anders, my homeroom teacher and P.E. teacher, slapped a kid in the face today. Mr. Anders is really young for a grownup. I think this is his first job—after college, I mean. Gabe McAllister was standing toe-to-toe with Mr. Anders and totally mouthing off. Mr. Anders’s face turned bright red and then he smacked him. It totally freaked us all out. I think it freaked out Mr. Anders, too. Right afterward, Mr. Anders grabbed Gabe McAllister by the collar and hauled him out of the gym. The rest of us just stood there. Donnie Joad said if that happened to him, he’d sue.

 

I bet you wouldn’t sue. You would have sided with Mr. Anders, because Gabe McAllister was being a complete jerk. He deserved to be slapped.

 

Your son,

 

Trevor

    About

    Letter Off Dead is an actual transcript of letters sent between a 7th grade boy and his dead father. It covers the subjects of life and death, faith and doubt, fathers and sons.

    The textual transcript has been edited and presented here by Tom Llewellyn, a writer from Tacoma, Washington. The illustrations have been edited and presented by artist James Stowe, also from Tacoma. None of the content has anything to do with Tom's or James' beloved and very separate employers.

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