Aberration of Starlight

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Dear Mrs. Schmidt,

Right off the bat I hope you will excuse me saying Dear Mrs. Schmidt. Although I call you Helga when we are in conversation, when I wrote Helga down, dear Helga, is what I wrote at first, it looked too familiar and I tore it up and began again, but believe you me, Helga, the Dear Mrs. Schmidt as above does not by a long shot mean that I think of you less warmly than ever, and please do believe me.

You might find it a funny thing that I am writing this letter to you instead of just talking to you face to face. The truth is, that some things are hard to say right out and, much easier to write. You are the only one I can turn to with hopes of understanding, on your part. I am a lonely man and growing old and nobody at all seems to understand me. It seems as if I am the butt for everybody. It was once much different, believe it or not. First off I have to mention something that might surprise you.

You thought you knew Bridget, my wife. God rest her soul. But what if I told you that my life with Bridget was almost 30 years of Hell on earth. When I was a young fellow and first wedded I was full of fun. Believe it or not. I even used to play the mandolin and was pretty fair at it believe it or not. I still have my old mandolin at home in the closet but I can hardly bear to look at it, it makes me so sad to do so. I was also a regular Beaux Brummel. Bridget made everything turn sour and rotten. She put the kibosh on anything that I wanted to do that looked as if it might cost a few dollars. She was really a miser, and I mean that and may God forgive me for saying so. I could of now been a very big man in the Credit Business if I had of gone into partnership with Bill Whitestone. Maybe you heard of this gentleman. I think I once mentioned his name. I could of been partners with him and he was a brick of a fellow and I would now, without the least doubt be a millionaire. Bridget threw cold water all over that idea because I had to put up 1000 dollars with his 1000 dollars to get us off the ground in a little office. That little business of 30 odd years ago is now, the National Credit Office. Well, I can thank Bridget for that, because of being such a tightwad. And what good was it in the long run? Just 1000 dollars and it ruined my whole future, a man of my age still doing what I was doing 30 years ago. Believe me Helga you did not know the half of it. You know the jokes about how Scotchmen save string. Well, Bridget saved even string with knots in it and even saved pieces that were an inch or two long. She even saved pieces of glass from broken bottles too, as God is my judge. Maybe some day I will tell you all the other terrible things about our life together as man and wife, how our conjagal bed was a mockery almost from our wedding day.

And now at last, after I am starting to get a little peace and quiet after poor Bridget’s passing away, and by the way her hospital bill cost almost 2000 dollars in the Swedish Hospital, Marie is giving me neither peace nor quiet. There is no rest for the weary as the old saying goes. I was always the best father I could be to Marie, who is you know my only child and when that pup of a dago husband of hers ran off with a little chippy tramp I took her and my grandson off the street and gave them a roof over their heads and fed them and bought them clothes. And never asked for a dime in return. Now Marie is making a damn fool of herself shining up to this Thebus article, who I don’t trust as far as I can throw him. You have eyes to see how she has neglected me this summer, not that I need a nursemaid, but, ever since the day we got here Marie has been more interested in buttering up this man than in me, it has been Tom this and Tom that and Tom the other thing. And this is supposed to be a vacation where I can relax and sort things out. Instead I have nothing but headaches. Also it is embarrassing to explain to that damn fool Ralph Sapurty and this Copan article why I am always moping around like a lost soul and why I hardly ever go to the lake anymore. A man damn well knows when he is not wanted.

Billy has taken a cue from Marie and falls all over this man, I’m sure you have noticed. Between you me and the lamppost I know why the man acts like a damn fool and pays attention to Billy’s foolishness. Our fine friend with the perfume all over his hair has got a method to his madness and knows that you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar. To get on the good side of Marie he butters up Billy. There is never a cross word out of his mouth to the boy, no matter what his shenanigans are. God knows, Marie lets that boy walk all over her, she spoils him rotten. There is no lack of damn fools in the world and I am afraid that Marie is one of them.

I remember you asking me just the other day why I was sitting over on the church steps all alone. I was so ashamed that I almost got red as a beet that you noticed. But now you know why I am alone so much, as if you could not see for yourself. I know that you are a very smart woman. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for not saying right out, that you knew why.

Between you and I, I can’t see one iota of good coming out of this business with Marie and this man. Marie is a good skate at heart and I am deathly afraid that this man has nothing good in mind. I think that he wants to take advantage of Marie and make her do something that she will be ashamed of and I also think that he might try to get her to marry him. I don’t know if she would ever do that because she is a good Catholic and you know that the Catholic Church does not allow you to remarry if you are divorced. They do not recognize divorce at all. But you never know when you are dealing with a creature like this man. Anything is liable to happen. This man strikes me all wrong and I wouldn’t put anything past him.

What I am afraid of is that she will do something that she will regret and then say the hell with the whole thing and marry him, figuring why should she cry over spilt milk, what’s done is done and she may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. That is this article’s scheme I think. I hope that you will pardon my French when I say that this man is really just a patch on a man’s a—. I’m sure that he thinks I have plenty of sponduliks and that my daughter will get it all when I am in the grave. I know his type like a book.

The little nest egg that I have left after Bridget’s hospital bills and funeral expenses I would like to spend on some peace and happiness for myself and some good woman. Somebody who is not just a dizzy jane and who has had her share of troubles like me, somebody who is lonely and who would understand that my marriage was 30 years of a living Hell and would like to give a man getting on in years some comfort. But do you think that there is a woman like that anywhere?

I have watched and watched you for years now in the summer and you know how much I respect you and your love for music and such things. When you were married to Otto, God rest his Soul, I was green with envy of him when I thought of my marriage to Bridget and how we were living a lie. I am ashamed to admit this to you but I have to. That is why I am putting this in writing. Everything is going from bad to worse for me and my own daughter doesn’t want to have anything to do with me and is almost ashamed to be seen in her father’s company, so I have to tell somebody. And I have to tell you although I feel strange doing same that I have always admired from afar your looks, your womanly bust and limbs.

I must close now, but please if this letter makes you feel as if you wish to speak with me further about my tale of woe, let’s have a quiet chat together, just the two of us. God knows we are both alone and not beholden to anybody.

Excuse me for being so bold and writing bust and etc., above. But I had to let you know how I feel about such a wonderful, wonderful person. You are a person who should be comfortable as she grows older without having to be alone looking at the four walls. You are a person who deserves a little nest egg and somebody to look after you. You are still a young and attractive woman with many a good year ahead of you with the right man. Let us have a nice talk soon.

Your old friend,

John McGrath