19 June 2013

by jkatejohnston

Dear Max,

I’m still alone, and it’s still wonderful, but lonely. Enzo is almost unrecognizable on the phone. His voice sounds like a little kid’s voice. When I’m with him I never notice that. We’re just talking. But on the phone, he sounds so small, and he doesn’t say more than a few words.

Yesterday I called them during my lunchbreak. Teresa said that they were eating lunch in the park and Enzo was having Doritos for the first time and he really liked them a lot. She put him on the phone.

“Hi Mom. I’ll bring you home a chip. Nacho cheese.” And I was just beginning to say how much I would love that, how I haven’t had a Dorito in years and how much I miss him when Teresa’s voice came back on the phone to say he was gone. They’re coming home today.

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Enzo notes (some of these are very old I’m afraid)

“Do we have enough money to go to a tropical paradise?”

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“I just gave Duncan a faux hawk.”

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Holding a wet piece of yarn taut between his extended fingers and running it down Duncan’s head, neck and back again and again and the wet yarn getting Duncan’s fur wet. “Duncan’s turning into a porcupine. He likes it.”

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Using a vaguely Southern accent that he must have picked up from TV:  “Ah can go for another dozen burgers or two.” & “Ma fish lures—someday they can come in handy enough to catch us a fish.”

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“I’m going to take all my money and have a salted meat festival.” I tried to pump him for details on this but he lost interest right away. I’m still whirring with the possibilities.

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