The Art of Letter Writing

By LC Eccles

"It seemed like he wanted something. But what? Too bad she didn't speak raven."

What happens when a bold, curious animal takes a fierce interest in you.....and helps you escape a life you hate? What if that life is behind bars?

Follow the daily struggles of several young female offenders as they cope with their lives both in and out of the remote youth custody facility which is bordered by the mysterious Ravens' Wood. Discover the importance of old-fashioned letter writing for those whose incarceration has removed the option of being 'connected' in the twenty-first century. Would desperation drive you to make the same decisions? Read the magically realistic "The Art of Letter Writing" to find out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LC Eccles
• Release date: Sep 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311030450

Book preview

To the more than 14,000 incarcerated youth across Canada who, unlike those who only know the wonders of being ‘connected’ in the twenty-first century, still treasure the art of letter writing and, like earlier generations, eagerly anticipate the arrival of personal letters every single day of their confinement.

This book is for you.

Acknowledgements

Thank you Kelly, you deserve accolades for your courage. It is a brave act to agree to be the first reader of a newly minted novel. Thanks Hannah for interpreting the written word into your beautiful art. Susan Fish, editor at Storywell (storywell.ca), you deserve a big thank you for your meticulous attention to detail while combing through an unusual tale. Many thanks to you, Ray Charbonneau, (y42k.com), for providing your magical touch. Taking a manuscript and making it available for the world to see in an accepted format is a gift too. Merci bien. Teiotsistohkwa'the miigwech. You know your part in all this, and always remember you deserve a joy-filled life. Rojan, thanks so much for that final piece of advice; it helped tremendously. Of course, I also send a very big thank you to my children, the other LC; you have quietly supported all the chatter about this story. I hope you recognize the personal nods to your individuality within the pages of this novel. J, thanks, you always believed in my writing. Finally, thanks to all the youth with whom I've worked over the years, whose voice I became increasingly aware needed to be heard. You know who you are.

LC

Dear Reader,

Depending on whom you are—young adult or not-so-young adult, free or not-so-free spirit—this story will call to you on different levels. There may be questions that you would like answered more directly but I think if you look hard and read between the lines, you will find the answers. As in real life, the answers are not always spelled out for us. Just in case you are wondering, this is not any one person's actual story. Instead it is a tribute to and an honouring of the many teens and young adults whom I have had the pleasure of knowing.

Enjoy the journey this read takes you on.

LC

One for bad news,

Two for mirth.

Three is a wedding,

Four is a birth.

Five is for riches,

Six is a thief.

Seven, a journey,

Eight is for grief.

Nine is a secret,

Ten is for sorrow.

Eleven is for love,

Twelve – joy for tomorrow.

Old English Rhyme about ravens

Ravenwood

Tess’s Cell – 7:00 a.m.

The wake-up call was loud and clear and unwelcome: the peculiar click of a very large key in the cell door, the snap as the oversized fluorescent ceiling light sprang to life, and the rough, but not unkind, voice of staff proclaiming that it was shower time.

Tess groaned and then winced as her eyes made contact with the baleful light streaming down from overhead. She felt worse than she would have if she had been out partying all night. It had not been a good night. MJ had been hollering in the cell next door ‘til probably three a.m. Who knew anyway since they weren’t allowed clocks or watches? One of many rules she knew she had to get used to again now that she was back. What the hell was she doing here anyway? It had been Donny who was holding the knife not her. Guilt by association......wrong time, wrong place.......unlucky again?

She felt a tear slip down her nose. If only she could pull the covers over her head and just pretend that none of this had ever happened but staff were already yelling out the second wake-up call and this time they didn’t sound so friendly. She stumbled down the hall to the shower wishing she could go home.....wherever that was. It was all quiet by MJ’s door now. That little thirteen-year-old brat was finally asleep. Tess knew she should feel sorry for her. It was her first time in after all, but she hated having to endure screaming for hours on end. Better than court cells though! You never knew who you were going to find there. There were worse things than scared little punks who got caught doing dumb things like breaking their probation order.

The cascade of warm water down her back was the first welcome event of the day. She sighed and lost herself in the oblivion of her wet warm cocoon. Her peace was suddenly shattered by hammering on the door. She’d been in here too long again. Another EBT for that infraction no doubt. Having to go to bed at fricking eight-thirty was so infuriating. That fun staff, Jamie, was working tonight too and now she would probably miss out on chillin’ with him. It made her feel like she was eight instead of one week shy of her sixteenth birthday.

Tess felt the anger well up inside her as she fought to maintain control of her feelings. Everything was so unfair! Well, if she was going to get punished for enjoying her shower too much than she might as well make it worth her while. She grabbed her shampoo and dumped it all over the hallway floor and then flung the empty bottle as far down the dim recesses of the first floor hall as her slight five-foot frame would allow. It made a satisfying clattering sound. She rushed into her cell and was burrowing into her blankets, making herself as small as she could, just as she heard the rushing sound of staff’s feet. There was a thud and a yell as those feet made contact with slippery, gooey shampoo oozing over tile. Tess shut her eyes tightly and curled up into a ball, like a little hedgehog afraid of the world.

Letter to Donny

Hey Donny-boy,

Yo! Whaz up? I got taken to Ravenwood after the cops grabbed me. It sure beats The Rock. I hate that place. Way too many restraints and food that I wouldn’t feed my dog! Not that I love it here but most of the staff are nice. Ginny’s here. She’s the one who told me that you ended up at the big boys’ jail. Sucks to be you bro! Well I’m not gonna write too much about our last night together cuz ya never know who’s reading this but all I got to say is that I wasn’t the one holding the stuff. You better tell Carter that. He’s probably your cellmate anyway! LMAO! I don’t know why you hang out with him; he’s such a total liar. He’d sell his own right hand just to get his next high.

Shh-gar! As they make us say around here. No swearing. Just another rule. As if there’s not enough. It’s lights out already. Guess I’ve been writing more letters than I thought. I’ll write more later. Hope you can get’ em at the big house.

Peace out bro,

Tess

Ravenwood Dining Room - 8:00 a.m.

The clatter of cutlery was the first sound that reached MJ’s ears as she entered the dining room. She looked around nervously wondering where she should sit. Was she allowed to sit with anyone even? Not knowing the rules made her feel anxious, more anxious than she had felt upon her arrival last night. She knew she looked like a newbie around the older girls. She slide into a seat in a corner not sure what to do.She studied the lock of purple-streaked hair that fell over her eyes pretending she didn’t see anyone else. She jumped when she heard a voice bark out her name. The other girls laughed.

When she realized it was her turn to go up to the counter to grab some toast and juice, she tried not to look at anyone. When the staff behind the counter made conversation with her, she smiled nervously but didn’t answer. She realized that he wasn’t an unkind man, just harried. His eyes even crinkled at the corners as he made humourous small talk. She suddenly felt sorry that she had spent most of the night yelling. All it had done was to make her feel exhausted and her cell neighbour hadn’t been too kind with her comments in the middle of the night. ‘Shut the frick up, be-otch’ was not really a good friendship starter. It would have been worse, too, if they weren’t consequenced for swearing.

She looked around. Where was Tess anyway? MJ might have only been in jail for twelve hours but the one rule she knew was if you didn’t make it to the dining room on time then you just got a granola bar that you had to gobble down before you got to the classroom.

She’s not getting out of her room any time soon kid. said a smug voice. It was Beth. She seemed to be the leader here, as far as MJ could tell. Most of the other girls listened to her except for Harrie, but that was another story.

A staff got hurt during shower time cuz of her so she’s in her cell on MP for a looong time, continued Beth. That’s why we didn’t get any choice at breakfast and school will be a late start. Not that that matters cuz Ol’ Toadface doesn’t care if we learn anything anyway. You’ll meet her soon enough cuz you get interviewed before you start classes. Anything you wanna know about this place, just ask me. I’ve been here seventeen times and I know the ropes!

MJ shivered at the emphasis on ‘know’. She knew there was a world of meaning lurking behind that word. She just nodded in Beth’s direction hoping she looked like all the things that Beth wanted her to be. She felt like crying. Being in jail was going to be a lot harder than she had thought when she had boasted to her friends back in Feldenmar about how her next escapade was going to land her here.

An authoritative voice burst in on all the buzz of noise in the small, tiled, dining room. Okay, the third staff is here to replace Larry after this morning’s incident. Tess is on MP for now. Morning routine is back on schedule for the rest of you so you can all go and prep for school. And no talking about this please, girls. It is over as far as you are concerned.

The owner of the voice was actually quite pleasant-looking, MJ noted with a start of surprise. This must be the Ravenwood manager, Mzzz K, as all the girls called her. She had pictured a tough old bat instead of this brisk young woman with her black curly hair.

Ms. K smiled at MJ, Welcome to Ravenwood. I’m sure staff has told you that you are allowed to request one-on-one time with me if you have any concerns. With that, she turned on her red high heels and tapped off down the long tiled hallway to her office.

Letter to Martha

Hey Sis,

Guess u herd were I am? I know I shoulda, coulda, woulda listened but I just couldnt stop myself....and Joad said....well forget it. mom can hate me even more............. whatever. Anyways I promised the gang that I would do something spectakuler so that I could start doing biz with them. It wasn’t that scary up at the top of that tower anyways but on the way up I thouht I was gonna die! I know I shouldnt have thrown that rock but what the hey? Thats what our family does right? How did I know that punky little kid was gonna be walking under the tower that late at nite? I’m baaack………got hawled off to see the nurse. I dont like her. She smells! Jail sure is difrent than I thought. U where right. I have to ask to get up off the couch just to throw out a stupid peice of garbage when we are watching some lame tv show. They wont let us watch just anything………not like u. U r my all time favorit babysitter Marf. I know u said not to ever be like u but u r cool and ur freinds r cool. Whats that halfway place like? Betcha don’t have to ask to get up off no couch? Marf, I’m scared. Whats gonna happen to me? And what about that Kindesley kid? I hope hes ok? I didnt mean to hurt him? Hes only 10? I know cuz hes in the same grade as Marty…….when Marty goes to school. Ha! Ha! Gotta go……….another meeting with some stinky adult. I wil write more next time. The mail goes out soon.

Luv from ur bestest baby sis,

MJ xoxoxoxoxoxo

Tess’s Cell – 9:00 a.m.

Tess felt another tear squeeze out of the corner of her eye and slide down her cheek. She wished she could fall asleep. Not possible! Between staff checking on her every five minutes and Mzzz K coming by for The Talk, she couldn’t just escape into a blissful world of sleep. Escape……wouldn’t that be nice? She would love to get away from this place, her life……have a nice made-for-tv life. No such luck. She might as well face it. This was her life! She felt the tears coming thicker and faster now.

She wished she hadn’t done the shampoo trick. She didn’t like Larry that much but he didn’t deserve to get hurt despite the stale cigarette smell that wafted off him. Besides she hadn’t even meant it for him in particular. If only she could do something about her constant-but-dreaded-companion, anger. She felt that old familiar feeling of despair creeping up. How could she change anything with anger riding on one shoulder and despair on the other?

Suddenly, she thought about Lisette and smiled for the first time since she had arrived at Ravenwood. If she wrote to her that would make her feel better. Lisette always made her feel better. She reached out to knock on her cell door and sighed. You always had to ask for everything here. Hopefully, she was allowed a pencil and paper on MP. She had never been put on it before. Wow! Her anger was getting worse.

Letter to Lisette

Hey Lisette,

How’s my fave staff doing? Whaz up at Blue Rose Group Home these days? Anyone I know there? You probably can’t tell me anyway right?

Sooo…….guess what? I’m at Ravenwood. Again! I know right?! I never learn. Well, it’s a long story about why but you are the only one I can talk to so I gotta write you. I’m really tired of all this but I don’t know what to do? Can’t talk to my PO, forget my social worker, my prime here isn’t bad but he’s new so what does he know. I hate getting to know new workers. You gotta tell your story all over again, find out if you can trust ‘em, then tell your REAL story, and then just when it’s all good, you get transferred cuz you are getting too comfortable and they think you aren’t making progress.

Sooo….I’m in deep this time. How do I get out? I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want to be a ‘normal’ sixteen-year-old. How do I do that? I don’t even know what normal is! LOL! You know my parents……don’t ask me which set either cuz they are ALL screwed up. Everyone wants me to change but to what? I don’t even know what being ‘good’ means? Or that stupid phrase, ‘just make better choices…’! What if there are no choices?

Well nothing much else to write. There are a few girls here that you would know but I can’t tell you who. You might be able to bribe me with Reese’s Pieces though if you get on my contact list and come and visit! I’m not going anywhere for a while. School’s okay this time around. I’m doing better with Mrs Baxter aka Ol’ Toadface. I guess she isn’t really that bad but I just wish she would smile for once. School is one of the few things we’ve got going for us here so she could at least make it more fun. She would really like all the slang I’m using in this letter to you. LOL!

Ok, I’ve really gotta go cuz now they want me to talk to that crazy therapist dude, Dr. Dull. He’s got a real name too but I forget what it is? Maybe he will make me less crazy if he doesn’t talk me too death first!

Write back soon pleeeaaase,

Tess xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Ravenwood Meeting Room A – 10:00 a.m.

MJ sat defiantly in a chair waiting for Mrs. Baxter to arrive. Another meeting?! She hadn’t even been here that long and she already had to talk to another adult. I hate adults, she thought mutinously. Except for Marf, she thought on a happier note.

Just then the door swung open and in glided the teacher. To say that MJ was shocked would have been an understatement. Mrs. Baxter wasn't old with spotty brown skin nor did she hop into the room. In fact, she was reasonably young, as far as adults went, and she was impeccably turned out in the latest fashion. Perfume wafted faintly around the room as she sat down. It was Chanel No 5. MJ knew that because that’s what her mom wore. Some boyfriend or other had given it to her because he wanted her mom to be classier. Ugh! She already didn’t like this teacher and she hadn’t even opened her mouth yet.

Mrs. Baxter looked at MJ with a faint look of disdain. Or that’s how it felt anyway. She took out a sheet of paper with careful precision and smoothed it with brilliantly red lacquered nails. She picked up her pen and said abruptly, Name?.

MJ mumbled her name without looking at Mrs. Baxter. She didn’t realize that Mrs. Baxter wasn’t looking at her either. Her carefully streaked blonde head was poised over that sheet of paper waiting for the all-important data.

I didn’t hear you properly. She spoke sharply as if to a naughty puppy. Her pen hovered again waiting for those necessary bits of information.

MJ, yelled MJ as loudly as she could.

Mrs. Baxter jumped and looked irritated. I need your proper name for my records and don’t shout, she said primly.

MJ hated giving her real name. It was so dumb. Who would give their kid such a name? Only her mother, no doubt obsessed with what her latest boyfriend wanted. MJ glowered as this train of thought made her wonder yet again who her real father was.

I’m waiting. The red lacquered nails tapped the table impatiently.

Marigold Jazmin. Jazmin has a z. My mother didn’t know how to spell, she said defiantly, oblivious to the irony.

Mrs. Baxter went briskly through the rest of the interview. It all sounded so dull. Classes, classes, classes. Rules, rules, rules. Boring, boring, boring. MJ had a headache and she hadn’t even gotten to class yet.