And the king strolls by. "You’re the one," he claims, "you were stolen once, you won’t be stolen again," and takes you back to the mansion you’ve only read about before in a broken-spined copy of a book you found tucked in your first lower left-hand drawer.

And it’s waited all this time in the mansion, here to prove, in the same place for the same reason, for the same person who forgot it here for you.

 

Dear Dad, 9:59

Well, here I am, number two daughter, having just settled in New Orleans, the place I’ve been dreaming about for so long. Or did you even realize that? It seems as if time + distance have estranged us for years, + I wonder what my age is in your mind’s eye. Do you see me still hiccuping on your knee, or as the first Ash to get raped, or as the daughter who was left as you are right, or as the one who thinks she’s an "Artist" of some sort, but still piddling around with her photography, or as the world traveler who is still yet to see the world?

Well, I just returned from interrailing around Western Europe for three + a half months hosteling, backpacking, horseriding....See, I got married in Seattle, before I left for Europe, to a guy I happened to meet at the right time: He has a European passport which means that now I can go + live + work in any of the EEC countries for as long as I wish. So, my trip over the pond was just to case the joint + see where I’d like to return to + live. New Orleans is a way station, at least. A treat to myself + a place to help out where I can save some money.

This guy, Vic: You probably wouldn’t care for him b/c he’s just like me. Yeah, I know: One step backwards for Royal Justice, but one giant leap forward for Estrelica Ash. No, actually, he reminds me a little of you, just like he reminds me a lot of J. Dove Dixon, my last flame + number one soul mate who is traveling the world + is currently somewhere in South America, probably Peru still.

My plans now: I want to see if I can get a job here in New Orleans helping the homeless, like at a gospel mission or something. Grass roots type-of-stuff. And at night I’m going to see if I can tend bar to give me some sort of a social life.

Although I took 23 rolls of film in Europe, now I find that I want to learn how to paint, to see if I can paint with oils + pastels what I’ve been photographing for so many years. I’ll still be dragging my camera around for the architecture + the local color here is so vibrant + vivid. I’m also going to see if anyone here is interested in my photographs of men, for the men’s movement or whatever, but...we’ll see. And I’ve been thinking ahead, as far as my portfolio is concerned, + I really do need to have some sort of a biography to chuck in with my stuff, so I jotted this down. See what you think:

Sibi was working as a switchboard operator in Kansas City when the phones first came to Missouri. Royal had called the operator trying to find Louise’s whereabouts to tell her to meet him in Reno. Before you knew it, Sibi was going to Reno, too, to see if Louise ever showed. Sibi beat his pants at blackjack; he showed her how to dive + she dove in well, + smiled all through the water until she rose.

Louise finally answered him years later + Royal lost her address in the flood that destroyed Sibi’s basement in the spring of ‘59 just before he was going to be transferred to Spokane; just before Zeda, their first daughter, was welcomed back into the world.

Zeda was born with large bones + grew to tower over the other daughters, taking them swimming + leaving them alone when she knew they didn’t need a baby-sitter. She knew boys better than any other girl on her block + could tease if forced at gunpoint, but only after she’d taken the gun away.

Tony was her first, then Eddie, + it was with Zach that she got pregnant, didn’t tell a soul, + cut the umbilical cord herself in her parents garage on the second day of April + couldn’t think of a name for it. No one in the neighborhood ever knew if it was a boy or a girl + Zeda left town too suddenly to just want to + was never seen by the neighbors again until the Ash’s moved five miles south with a better view of the town (a view FINALLY) + Zeda was seen hitchhiking behind her parents house.

Sibi Sunice + Royal Justice set up house again + lived with Estrelica, Otto, Dionne + Si, their children, all two years apart, waiting for their teens to be over, thinking it would do them a world of good to walk the earth, work the land + trample out grapes in Bordeaux or see the sun hang in the sky in Oslo like it was afraid to go away.

What love grew from the Ash’s they shared with their neighbors next door, but the block Christmas party every year + the barbecue every third week in July had to compete with Otto wrecking the family car + Estrelica seeing a junky for five years.

That’s what I’ve gotten so far.

So, I think of so many Father’s Days....Did you get the book I sent? Did you like it? And all the other books + prints + videotapes + scrolls from years' past? I would assume so, b/c they were never returned to sender (address unknown). Sorry. I know Elvis was never your bag. Or any blue note whatsoever. And I was going to get you a CD of George Shearing + Nat "King" Cole for Father’s Day, but I think I’ll give it to myself for Christmas + make a tape of it for you. Would you like that?

"Estrelica," you always used to say, "get your education + the world is your oyster." And even though I never got the piece of paper saying I’d jumped through every last bleeding hoop, my schooling has never interfered with my education, as Twain would say, the grandpappy of us all.

I don’t really know what you ever wanted for me, but the things I want + need mean so much more. I just figured that it was time to declare the war over, from my side of the battlefield, + scrawl down a declaration of intent for my life. I love you + I want you in my life, Dad, but I don’t need you. A result of you never being there when I needed you, I guess. I want to keep in touch a lot more than we have in the past, but only if I get validation for my life + my ideas + plans + just basic respect for me as your daughter + as a human being in 1992. I think of you often + hope this is the beginning of a truce.

Love your flesh + blood, Estrelica

P.S. I looked up this idiopathic hypertrophic cardiomyopathy thingamawhatsit + it said that it is a gradual, inexorable weakening of the heart muscle, believed to be congenital + has no definite cause or cure. Is this it? Does this sound right? Take care. Know I’m here.

-E.