Letters

Fort Erie, Ontario, Canada

Thursday, September 4, 1969

Mr. Todd Andrews

Andrews, Bishop, & Andrews, Attorneys

Court Lane

Cambridge, Maryland 21613 U.S.A.

Dear Mr. Andrews:

Search for Bishop Pike abandoned. U.S. Ambassador to Brazil kidnapped. Viet Peace Talks suspended until after Ho Chi Minh funeral. Birthday of Anton Bruckner, Chateaubriand, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Darius Milhaud. A

Of nothing, however, in Der Wiedertraum, of which I Apprised You Briefly in our Conversation this morning. Today in 1953 was Day 48 of the 100 Days between my Arrival at Wicomico, Maryland, where I First Met and Was Befriended By the late Joseph and Re

Before that, on 9/1/53 (You advised me today to Draft a Detailed Statement for use by the lawyer you advised me to Retain, as did the Ontario Provincial Police, in the event of a formal inquest into Joseph Morgan’s death by gunshot wound on Monday 9/1/69. But it is many years since I Wrote Anything to anyone except myself. This was not Easy to Begin; the 1st-person singular, especially, comes hard; now I Should Like to Rebegin, but Dare Not Stop; you agreed I Might Send you a copy of my Statement, to help you explain things to Morgan’s sons; hence this and the 7 enclosed letters to myself, covering the period 3/6/69-8/28/69 inclusive; I Must Add that my Wife and I are Grateful Indeed to you for arranging the return of Joe Morgan’s body to Maryland and the funeral and memorial services for him there, which we Plan to Try to Attend. There is another reason, too, why Writing It All Down is difficult. Do be patient), I visited the Doctor for my quarterly Mobility Check: in those days I Experienced Occasional Paralysis; was indeed Seized by Same in the Progress & Advice Room that day, when the Doctor discovered I was Unconsciously Imitating my New Friend Joseph Morgan; had to be Remobilized by Pugilistic Therapy; all this is important. And the day before that, 8/31/53, was Eavesdropping & Espial Day, when Re

So. But the Doctor drowned; “Monsieur Casteene” disappeared with his people; “Bibi” likewise (our name for Ms. Golden, whom you sought, whom we have heard nothing from since 8/15, when my Wife left her at Comalot Farm, Lily Dale, N.Y. 14752, with Mr. Jerome Bray), who had been playing Mrs. Morgan in Der Wiedertraum; “Pocahontas” (Marsha Mensch, née Blank) and I Became a Couple, and on Sunday last (8/31, 14th Sunday after Pentecost) Husband and Wife; nothing was working; Morgan was out of patience; that night was to be Espial Night and next day Confrontation Day in the P & A Room, his deadline. I was to Bring His Wife (see above) and my Hornbook (see below); “St. Joe” his Colt.45 for Day 45 (see enclosed), his expression and reckoning. When he would discover to me, he declared, the Real Bone he’d had to pick with me all these years.

I was Afraid.

But to go back a bit. On Th 8/28 my Now Wife, who was then but my Woman, delivered herself of a Bombshell Letter, her term, to her former husband, Ambrose Mensch of your city. Though she did not elect to share its contents with me, she gave me to understand that it would “knock the bastard [Mr. M.] flat.” I Seized the Occasion of her glee to Propose to her what I had Long (since July) Been Contemplating: Wedlock. I had Just Left the P & A Room, a distressing session (ultimatum, deadline, Colt.45, etc.). Marsha was, I Ought to Add, and is, Pregnant. She laughed, I Ca

Sunday last, 8/31, Eavesdropping & Espial Day, we Tied the Knot. It was my Hope, and part of my Plan, to Remobilize and Conclude Der Wiedertraum: to that end we were Wed exercycling, in late afternoon, upon the Exercycles central to much therapy here at the Farm, and which I had Requisitioned through August for our Reenactment of the Horseback-Riding Lessons Re

We were Left Alone then to pedal through the Final Horseback Ride towards the E. & E. Scene aforementioned. Officially we were to Speak of Joe etc. (see above): in fact and understandably we Discussed our Honeymoon Plans, at least Began to: my own Inclination was to Revisit the Iroquois Motel, off Exit 58 (Irving/Angola) of the Thomas E. Dewey Thruway, which has certain sentimental associations for us; Marsha’s was, as best I could Determine, to travel to your city for the purpose of savoring the effects of her Bombshell Letter and to display to her first husband, who did not initiate it, her current pregnancy. The prospect (of so considerable an expedition) dizzied me; but I could not in any case Think Past the morrow’s Deadline P & A Session. More Immediately Alarming, moreover, was my bride’s condition: it became Every Moment More Apparent that she had put by, for this happy occasion, one last dose of that unidentified but remarkable narcotic she calls Honey Dust, acquired two weeks earlier from Mr. Bray at Comalot Farm and (so I had Believed) exhausted a day or two since. By sundown she was off her Exercycle and calmly burbling in the grass. It was All I Could Do to Haul her over to the appropriate window of the farmhouse for E. & E. The light was on; we were A Bit Late; I Peeked In and Saw Joe smoking his pipe and perusing our script, that novelized etc. aforecited. I Rapped on the pane for him to commence his performance, and Made to Make Sure “Re