Back in January (the 13th, to be exact), we had a visit from an old fisherman named Davey. He was writing to a young man working in a city some distance away from where Davey lives.
This young man's name is Kasey. As I said I would on the 13th, this week I am sharing Kasey's reply to the letter that our fisherman wrote to him. If you have not yet read last month's letter, please do so. This month's letter will make ever so much more sense if you read the first one beforehand.
This epistolary story that I am writing is an exploration into forming distinctive voices for my characters, something I have been learning about recently. The two voices from the first letter and the one below are quite different, I believe you will find. Enjoy!
Dear Davey
written by Lily Page
Dear Davey:
Thank you for the kind reply. I am quite surprised myself that I failed to ask you about Goldie’s story this summer, as I heard many people mention various intriguing things about her in passing this summer. I was aware that she and you were not related by birth, but you are definitely related by choice, if you understand what I mean.
I always intended to ask you more about where Goldie came from, as I have a passion for stories like hers. Perhaps that is because I am an orphan myself, which you know, although we did not talk about my past much this past summer.
She has a beautiful story—especially the part about how Goldie was and is an answer to many years of prayer. I still don’t quite know how I feel about God, but I can tell you really believe in him. Maybe we can talk more about that sometime.
My uncle hates men and boys who cry, so I never did. He didn’t shed a single tear, not even when Aunty Meg died. As a result, I don’t cry easy, Davey, but I almost did when I was reading your letter. I want a family and a daughter of my own someday.
You kept me busy on the fishing boat, and so I always fell into bed exhausted before I thought to ask Goldie or yourself about her story.
I ended the summer with callused hands and real muscles in my arms for the first time in my life. I can never thank you enough for all that you and your wife taught me, and for treating me like a real man. I’d never experienced that before, but you taught me how to work hard and what it means to be a man, something my uncle is not.
I’d even go so far as to say that I’m glad my uncle turned me out, for if he hadn’t, I never would have met you.
I’ve discovered that working in the city is not suited for me. I always thought I would be a city boy, but I think that was because I wanted to get away from my uncle, and the country reminded me of him. But now the country makes me think of you, and all I really want is to come back and stay.
I can't get away from the store, but I would give anything to come up there and stay for a few days. Mr. Smith is sick of his hired boys bailing out after only working in the store for a short time, so when he took me on, I gave him my word that I’d stay on and work in the store at least until spring. If there’s one thing you taught me over the summer, it’s that once I set my hand to a task, I’d better finish it, and finish it well. Oh, Davey, I miss the Cove so bad. Sometimes I go to bed early just to stop thinking about it.
I hope you were serious about using me on the fishing boat. I’ll come back as soon as spring arrives if you’ll have me. I want to settle down in the Cove with people who care about me. This city is so big, dirty, and crowded. I desperately want out, but I’ve put my hand to a task, and I shall see it through.
Say hi to your wife for me,
Kasey