Al has just saved Molly from the Contamination Chamber. Kass
finds Molly, lying on the floor staring at the empty chamber.
“Why?” says Molly. “Why’d he do it?”
Tapping her sandals on the floor next to Molly’s head, Kass lets
out a sound, something between a hiss and a sigh. Molly looks up, and Kass
offers her something.
“What’s this?”
“A letter.”
“I can see that.”
“Al wrote it to you ages ago, he just never sent it.”
“How do you know?”
“He carried it around on his trolley. I saw it one time and
asked him about it.”
“Have you read it?”
“Of course.”
“Kassandra!”
“It’ll help.”
“But…”
“Look at it this way, I finally get to be a messenger.”
Dear Molly
I don’t think I’ll
every have the nerve to give this to you, but I’ve been thinking about it for
so long and Kass gave me an idea. (I know, I can’t believe I’m doing something
Kass suggested but here it is.)
She pointed out that
Messengers, are writers at light. I know I’m not the best messenger and so will
probably be a terrible scribe. But I have to say these things somewhere and
maybe if I write them down then I can let them go.
Thirty-thousand years
ago, I was slower than everyone else. I was the last to step down onto the
emerald Form of Grass, the last to wander through the Edge of the Light and the
last to understand the name of things.
My light was dim,
that’s how I was made.
Wandering along the
edge of the Always Orchard, I was feeling lonely when I saw you race across
Grass. You soared, and twirled, and stepped and spun, you were the most
beautiful thing I’d seen in all the time we’d been witnesses.
You shone, and my own
dim light caught fire.
But then Lucie
arrived, and your brightness, your warm glow was smoothed. I know Lucie was the
first and perfect, but her light was cold, and only made my light feel weak by
comparison. How could I possibly compare to her grace, and perfection?
I’m sorry I wasn’t
brave enough to tell you this at the time, or to stay and help you talk to
Lucie. She told me to go away, and I went – but not really. Fading into the
trees, I listened. I heard what she said. I heard the truth.
I know you were the
First.
You’re the best of us,
not because you demand we follow you and your way but because you encourage us
to be the best versions of ourselves, to choose our own path. Now you need to follow your own example.
Everyone knows you’re
the most efficient postal worker, but that’s not all you can be. Ever since
your argument with Lucie you’ve doubted yourself.
Don’t doubt yourself,
you were made to shine brighter even than the Morning Star; one day you will.
I believe in you.
Your friend Alexander
