Read Online Dear Hank Williams by Kimberly Willis Holt - Free Book Online

correspondence (except for the pictures you sent me). Of course, I realize that’s probably why you haven’t sent me a real letter. Every time you sing, you’re getting a little more famous, and famous people can’t be talking and writing about their lives. They have to be private. One exception is Momma, who loves being a celebrity. The only problem is, I can’t talk about her because Aunt Patty Cake thinks it’s best that nobody is reminded about where Momma is. Then when she gets out of prison, it will be easier for her to get back to normal.
    I know you don’t have enough time to write a long letter, but have you ever thought about sending me a postcard? That’s what Momma does. Momma’s so busy with her singing and other duties, she hardly has time to write a long letter. But every few days, we can count on receiving a postcard. I could paper the walls in my bedroom with her postcards. Instead I tie them with ribbons and keep them in a cigar box. If you wrote on the back of a postcard, you’d only have to write a sentence or two, like Momma. It wouldn’t take too much time, and I would treasure it forever.
    If I did stick Momma’s postcards on my wall, I’d hang them where the backs showed. Then I’d have Momma’s words surrounding me— Don’t forget to brush your hair a hundred strokes every night. Mind Aunt Patty Cake all the time and Uncle Jolly some of the time. Say your prayers and say one for Frog and me. Do you ever think about going anywhere out of Louisiana? Let’s go to Paris when I get out.
    I wouldn’t mind just going to a World Series game. But I’ll go to Paris or anywhere else in the world with Momma when she gets out. Aunt Patty Cake wishes Momma wouldn’t write on the back of postcards. “Everyone around here knows Jordie June’s business.” Personally, I’ll take a postcard or a long letter from her. Frog feels the same way, although it always makes him sad when I read them. I think he forgets about her being gone until we receive one. Sometimes I think he’s mad at her for leaving us.
    Theo Grace and Coolie are the only kids who share their pen pal letters. How could those other letters compare with the ones from the Japanese kids? They tell us all the things they eat, which may sound like that would be boring, but it’s not. They seem to like rice as much as us, but they also eat raw fish. They call it sushi and sashimi . Of course Wallace had to blurt out, “We call that bait here.” Everyone ignored him because we were too busy listening to Theo Grace read about how they pull their shoes off at the door and sleep on mattresses that fold called futons .
    All that stuff is interesting, but nothing could compare with having Mr. Hank Williams as a pen pal.
    Luckier than I deserve to be,
    Tate P.

    PS—Now you know three Japanese words— sushi , sashimi , and futon . I guess I’m the next best thing to having an international pen pal.

 
    December 5, 1948
    Dear Mr. Williams,
    Y ESTERDAY U NCLE J OLLY took Frog and me to see The Count of Monte Cristo in Alexandria. His truck was in the shop, but Aunt Patty Cake let us take her car. After the show he drove by City Hall, which was lit up like Mrs. Applebud’s birthday cake. The building was covered in thousands of lights. Every corner has a huge sparkling Christmas tree and lights spell MERRY CHRISTMAS over each entrance. Just the sight of it all plopped me smack into the Christmas spirit. Even Frog was speechless.
    On the way home, Uncle Jolly drove over to Hoyt Home Appliances in Lecompte. When we pulled up, the store went dark. We’d arrived right at closing. Frog had fallen asleep on the way over there, but Uncle Jolly and I hopped out to get a closer look at the Victrola in the window. Not only could it play phonographs, it also had an AM/FM radio. We were in such a trance, it took us a second to see the salesgirl