The Dales

 8^th December 2018

Dear Cassi,

In my last letter I described the two tech heads that I left behind when I ended my friendship with your ex husband Turtle Nose. Neither of these men were much of a loss. At best Tech Tower was a fair weather friend and at worst Tech Mole was a party to Turtle Nose’s cruelty. 

Well, the main stage for this opera, if there where one, would be the home of a family I would call the Dales because, well, they are named after another geological feature. Of the Dales there were six, five now from what I hear, and they were a messed up bunch.

Old Man Dale was a plump jovial fellow who was always good to sit down and have a drink with. I had spent many an hour in his home drinking only to be polite after he lost his job with IBM. I have to say the part he would play in all this was the most painful. By now I had lost what family I had and he was the closest thing I had to that kind of relationship.

His wife I would call Blind Dale. She was legally blind but had eyes enough to see and move around. She could not know me by sight but could tell me by my voice. She was a plump little woman to fit her plump man for the most part that fit. Blind Dale was prone to fits of rage and would often lash out. She was good spirited for the most part when not angry.

They had two twins who I will call Beard and Chin.  Chin is the one who died of cancer. Beard was the rude fellow who was always too loud. Beard Dale was the kind of man who would start screaming if you talked about cannibals. He felt that the world should know cannibals better I guess. Like his mother he was prone to outbursts.

Then there was the younger son, Beefy Dale, Beefy was the fellow who you thought was gay. You may recall that at one time he wanted to be a policeman. Last I heard he wanted to be a doctor. He was a hard man to deal with because he was always showing off and dumb as a stump. Beard would say that Beefy’s natural state of being was to be in his boxers. His state of conversation often lead to him taking off his shirt to show his work in the gym.

Last of the Dales was Fire Dale, who I name because of her attitude and that fact that of all the Dales she is the one to keep her red hair. The others let it go dark, or in the case of Beefy Dale, dyed theirs black. Fire Dale was also known for being in a half state of dress as jeans and a bra was her normal garb. I never said much to her, she kept rude company anyway.

Know your family, little sister,

 

Richard Leland Neal

Tower and Mole

7^th December 2018

Dear Cassi,

My last moment as Turtle Nose’s friend was the last moment I was friends with another man. I mean, cutting your ex husband from my life took with it a good number of folks, but this one was the first to go. I guess in relaying this message and clearing my head I should describe this man. I figure he won’t play much of a part in my life or my letters but he’s one of two folks of interest here.

This fellow I will call Tech Tower and another of Turtle Nose’s friends I will call Tech Mole. You knew Tech Tower well so far as I can tell, because he spent some time living up there with you folks. This was the tall man, rather than the long haired man, and Tech Tower is so named because of his love of computers and his stature which put him as the tallest of the folks of this story.

Tech Tower was educated at U. C. Irvine and had spent time working at Boeing. I always wanted him to go back there, because it was a job that paid well, but he wanted to live with his folks. He was a good friend of mine during much of the time Turtle Nose spent in the army and so I was surprised when he turned on me so easily.

Now Tech Mole is another figure from Turtle Nose’s past who he had met before he became a guard. He had worked at an alarm company where he met the Mole man whose greatest love was video games and his second greatest love was turtle nose.

Turtle Nose had trained Tech Mole to hate me long ago and you had mentioned that folks were always rude to me. Tech Mole was one of those folks. So, here we have two characters in this story, but both minor ones that I will come up only slightly.

To me these men are like ghosts, because I haven’t seen them in ten years now. Still I remember them so very well. They are like demons I need to exercise I guess. Or perhaps I only let my thoughts linger on them long enough to let them go. Well, I need to speak of them so I have named them.

We all have our part to play, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal