Dear Reese,
You are sick today. I spend all of last night lying beside you, soothing you as you wake up every couple of hours. This morning I dress you in the only pajama-like outfit without footies that I have so you can be comfortable and you end up looking like a little Victorian child with a red nose and watery eyes. It’s very cute, actually, but I hate that you’re miserable.
Not so miserable that you don’t enjoy a little time in the ball pit MorMor and Cappi made for you. They spoil you and you deserve to be spoiled.
You’re tired and uncomfortable this evening, but your fever hasn’t spiked again. We do a short adventure installment in the bath tonight — a bath we would have skipped if you hadn’t rubbed mashed beans all over your face and hair at dinner. I was just grateful you had an appetite.
In part 10 of our story, you are talking to the two beavers deep in the twisted dam that serves as both maze and prison. They have just told you that you’ll never find The Great Bullfrog, since only those who are imprisoned know where the prison lies.
“Who does the imprisoning?” you ask.
“The dam itself,” one of the beavers answers.
You nod and, without hesitation, go give the nearest damn wall a forceful kick. And again.
“What are you doing?” the beavers say. You hear the fear and alarm in their voices but you do not stop. You kick again. You are strong, the branches creak beneath the force. You punch. And kick again and again until a branch snaps and the whole dam seems to shake and rattle.
“I am more powerful than you,” you declare haughtily to the dam. There’s a moment where you hear the beavers gasp from somewhere behind you but then you are sucked into the walls of the dam. Branches and water rush by and over you. You have no control as you are pulled through the dam by an invisible force. It lasts forever and yet you’ve barely taken a breath when you come to a sudden stop.
You are alone in a wooden room with no apparent exit. A prisoner.
Love,
Mama