“Dearest Clarence,” the letter began, “I hope this letter finds you sound of body and sane of mind.  How is the weather in Barang-Barang?  We all miss you very much in our small hometown in rural Iowa.  I thought I would write (even though you never respond) to let you know how things are going here.  Maybe the news of your family will make you change your mind and decide to come back home. 

            “Your sisters have grown quite a bit since that awful fight two years ago when you stormed out of the house and moved to Indonesia.  Carrie is now a beautiful young woman of thirteen.  I think the local boys are beginning to take an interest in her breasts, which have swelled and firmed since you last saw her.  Abigail, meanwhile, has yet to be asked out on a date, which is quite disturbing for a seventeen-year old but not surprising given that she refuses to wear make-up and dresses like a peasant.  I pointed this out to her but of course she only got angry and defensive.  She called me several things which are not fit to repeat here but which frankly bear your stamp.  Your father and I are a bit worried, to be honest, that she may be a lesbian.  We’re considering therapy.

            "Brenda is still working at the Sticky Fingers Candy Factory, where she was recently promoted to the bon-bon line.  Like I told her, it never hurts to flirt with the supervisor.  Of course, eloping with him is probably going unnecessarily far, but then, Brenda’s always been strong-willed like you, and if she wants to sleep with a fifty-four year old man with half his teeth, I suppose there’s nothing a mother can do.

            "The twins are both doing well, except for Alex who is dead.  We went to a seafood restaurant to celebrate Brenda’s promotion, and while we were toasting over the hors d’oeuvres, he somehow crawled into the lobster tank where he was accidentally taken for a lobster and served to a family several tables over.  By the time we noticed he was missing, the chef was already arranging him on a bed of lettuce.  Needless to say, your father got rather worked up.  He demanded to see the manager and then began shouting at him, accusing him of infanticide.  The poor man was terribly embarrassed.  He kept apologizing and insisting that this sort of thing had never happened before.  To tell the truth, I felt kind of sorry for him.  He finally offered to comp our meal and your father calmed down.  Even so, it put quite a damper on the evening. 

            "Did I tell you that your old elementary school burned down?  It was all over the news, although I don’t know if you get that in Indonesia.  Some kid brought his dad’s blow torch in for show and tell, and while demonstrating it he accidentally set one of his classmates on fire.  Well, you know how flammable children are.  The place went up in no time.  The firemen who got the call accidentally went to Pinewood Elementary, and by the time they realized their mistake and got across town, it was pretty much in ruins.  I think they’re going to put a strip mall in its place.  A Gap would be handy.  Your father’s hoping for a Grills ‘R’ Us. 

            "Well, I guess that’s all the news on our end.  Try to stay warm and dry, and avoid ‘native’ foods, which can be bad for your soul.  I hope we’ll see you this Christmas, or next month at little Alex’s funeral.  Take care!

                                                                        Love,
                                                                        Mom"