Last Days of Summer
P.S.2. I dressed up like a Western Union Boy and took a fake telegram to the Navy Yard so I could tell them I had a delivery for Leon Landey (a name I found in the Bronx Telephone Book). This time I was on the assembly line for 45 minutes before I got the boot. Know what? They even have girls working there.
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Dear Romeo,
You do not even know what the word complicated means yet. Wait until she lets you hold her hand. Then you are going to need a road map and Craig’s secret code book and a slide rule too.
This one is easy. What she is saying is “Your a pain in the ass but if you stop I will break your fuckin neck.” The big clue is I don’t know. This is her way of dropping the hook in the water. Do not bite it or she will pull you up by way of your nose. That reminds me—let Hazel pick the movie for you. Such ones as “Mr. Moto” and “Confessions of a Nazi Spy” and etc. will not do the trick this time.
And didn’t I tell you not to try the colors until we had a chance to work on them? This is what you did wrong.
“Your pupils are bluer than marbles.” You make her sound like she has glass eye balls.
“Your skin is whiter than the dawn.” Dawn means sunrise. The sun is yellow. Does she have malaria????
“Your hair is browner than a field that somebody just plowed.” Know what makes it brown? Mud and cow shit. I am surprised she didn’t stick a fountain pen in your ear.
It does not look like you did any damage (yet) but just in case, here is a list we can start with.
White: Clouds, stars, the moon and that bubble crap that comes on top of waves.
Red: A cherry is the best, but that has a whole other meaning we will talk about when your a little older. For now use ruby.
Brown: Chestnut ponys.
Yellow: I one time tried “egg yoke” on Hazel and it started a big fight that ended with me getting locked out of the apartment. But later she told me that girls are suckers for buttercups, so I guess this is from the horse’s mouth.
Purple: A tough one. Try tulips or some other damn flower. They are all the same anyway.
Green: Most green things will only piss her off, such as frogs and boogies and etc. Grass is okay but you have to do something with it first. Like “grass after it got rained on”.
Blue: Sky and oceans.
Black: The only things I can think of are “the night” and “a well-digger’s asshole”. So stay away from black. It can only get you in trouble.
Orange: You will not need this one on account of she is not suppose to have anything on her body that is orange. If she does then make sure she goes to a doctor.
We have been on maneuvers for 5 days in a row now and we are really turning into a crack outfit. They will not tell us where we are going after here on account of what if one of us knows Hirohoto and spills the beans at dinner with him. But since we keep practicing landing on beaches from Higgens boats and taking cover, you do not have to have ½ a brain to know that it will be the S. Pacific. Unless Germany just got an ocean that nobody told us about.
They finally gave us 24, so me and Stuke used ours by going to L.A. First we ate dinner at the Pig N Whistle and then we went to a place called The Hollywood Canteen where only service men are allowed inside and you get to dance with movie stars who also make sandwiches for you. Stuke got asked to mambo by Carol Lombard but instead of saying yes The Tough Guy fainted on the floor. They had to sit him up in a corner and put smelly things under his nose until he woke up—but as soon as he saw that the one who was waving the smelly things was Lucille Ball he was out cold again. I knew it. All talk and no action.
Charlie
P.S. Promotions are next week. Stuke thinks he is going to make Sgt. and I’m not. It better not happen. He would be the first noncom to get his ass kicked by a private and have to say thank you for it.
P.S.2. Your still cooking something up, aren’t you? Whatever it is, do it and get it over with. I cannot live like this.
P.S.3. Bringing up the yellow snowball was just about the dumbest thing you ever did in your life. Remember that they always keep score about such things—and at the rate your going, she will probably not let you kiss her until your 32.
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Alexander Hamilton Junior High School
To: All Eighth Graders
From: Mrs. Hicks
Re: Vacation Assignment
The robins are chirping again, and it’s time for another stab at “How I Spent My Spring Vacation”. Perhaps it will come as a surprise, but I don’t like reading them any more than you like writing them. However, the Board of Education insists. Papers should be 200 words in length and ready to turn in the day after vacation.
See if you can spend a little time doing something unusual; maybe it will make your compositions more fun to write. I doubt it—but it’s worth a try.
Have a safe two weeks.
Mrs. Hicks
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Dear Rachel,
How about if we got married? Bet that would make a heck of a composition, huh?
Love,
Joey
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Dear Joey,
Leave me alone. And stop saying you love me.
Rachel
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Dear Rachel,
But I do. “O, how ripe in show thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!” Midsummer Night’s Dream. You can even have my kingdom.
Joey
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Dear Joey,
I don’t want it.
Rachel
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Dear Rachel,
Can I at least take you to see Mrs. Miniver? Please, please?
Joey
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Dear Joey,
I can’t. We’re going to Atlantic Beach for two weeks. We rent a house there every year. But you can write to me.
Rachel
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Dear Rachel,
Smokes, what am I supposed to do all by myself?
Joey
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Dear Joey,
You heard Mrs. Hicks. Think of something unusual.
Rachel
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Dear Joey-San,
I’m in a concentration camp. This isn’t a joke. First the FBI put my father under hack because they said his tomato plants in the back yard pointed to an airplane factory, and then they arrested my uncle for being president of the Santa Monica kenjin-kai which they said was getting ready to bomb Washington or some other kind of bullshit. Know what a kenjin-kai is? A bunch of old men who talk about radishes and play shogi. After that they gave us 24 hours to get rid of everything we owned except what we could carry, including my Mom’s 200-year-old china (which went for two bits a plate) and my aunt’s hotel. She had to sell the lease to some old fart for $750 even though her and my uncle put over $150,000 into it. Then they took us to a stall at the Santa Anita racetrack and made us stay there for three days (without cleaning the crap out first) until they had enough busses to take us to camp. So unless they decide to shoot us next, this is my address.
Craig Nakamura
Manzanar War Relocation Center
Block 28, Barracks 3, Apt. 2
Manzanar, California
It looks like a damn Army base here except with barb wire sticking you in the ass every time you turn around. There’s about 100 long brown barrackses split up into apartments (that are maybe the size of our closets back in Brooklyn), and five of us are supposed to sleep in each one. Smokes, the walls don’t even go up to the ceiling and you can practically hear the other three families we’re sharing the joint with—especially the Fukudas. They have a 16-year-old named Kenji who calls me Puppet and an 11-year-old named Ichi who’s weirder than you and me put together. He th
inks he’s the Hardy Boys. Both of them. And by the way. the bathroom is two blocks away and you have to wait in line to get in, even if you have the squirts.
Joey-San, do you think maybe Charlie could do something to get us out of here? Or at least find out where they’re keeping Pop and Uncle Mits? I don’t want to piss him off or anything, but he’s the only famous person I know. You can even tell him I’m sorry I traded 6 of his baseball cards for one of Durocher.
Your yellow friend,
Craig
P.S. Whatever you do, don’t put “Top Secret” when you write back. It can only get us in more trouble. They already took away my Shadow’s Secret Code Book to see if there were any troop movements in it. Swear to God.
P.S.2. We found a rat under the oil-burner in our apartment. Kenji named it Earl Warren. Then he called me Puppet again.
P.S.3. But they have baseball teams here. The San Pedro Gophers are letting me play with them because I’m so short that the other pitchers don’t know where my strike zone is. Guess where they put me? Third base. Banks can eat his heart out.
P.S.4. Tell your Mom and Aunt Carrie I said Hi.
And Rachel and Mrs. Hicks and anybody else we know except Mrs. Aubaugh (unless she wants to lend me her leg so we can torpedo our way out of this place).
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THE WHITE HOUSE
Dear Joey:
Thank you for your most recent letter. I wish there were an easy answer, but there isn’t.
Craig will be quite safe at Manzanar—safer perhaps than on the city’s streets, where attacks against innocent and loyal Japanese-Americans have reached inexcusable proportions.
I hope you will reconsider your feelings toward President Roosevelt. Dedicated friends are difficult for him to come by these days, and you have been among the most faithful. Try to remember that the right decisions are not always the popular ones—and only history can judge whether we have made a fitting choice or a regrettable mistake.
Cordially as always,
Stephen T. Early
Press Secretary
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Dear Goodlookin’,
You’d better consider this a Joey Alert because something is definitely brewing. I haven’t been able to get two words out of him all week, and you know that spells Big Trouble. Then this morning I telephoned to find out if he wanted to learn a new routine with me, but Aunt Carrie said he’d gone on a field trip to Delaware with some of his classmates. Apparently she’s unaware that there’s nothing to see in Delaware, or else she wouldn’t have fallen for it. (I certainly didn’t.) So keep your ear to the ground, Big Boy—because I’m a little worried about him.
Cole Porter stopped by the club yesterday to play one of my new songs from Something for the Boys. He calls it “By The Miss-iss-iss-iss-iss-iss-iss-iss-inewah” and I’m not making this up. Only Cole could concoct a title like that and get away with it—anybody else would have been hatched up on sight. I put it into the act during the second show tonight and it brought down the house. Wait ’til Merman gets wind of this. She thinks that Cole Porter is her personal poodle, and she hates it when he pees on the other side of the street. (Of course, they haven’t exactly offered me the leash yet, but Cole says it’s in the bag.)
I miss looking at you while you sleep. Come to think of it, I miss looking at you, period.
All my love,
-Mrs. H-
P.S. I managed to swing two weeks off at the end of the month and I intend to spend both of them hanging around your neck. So you’d better tell the Marines not to expect you for dinner. And if they give you a hard time, I’ll set them straight. Who else is a bigger pain in the ass than I am?
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United States Marine Corps
Semper Fidelis
CAMP PENDLETON OCEANSIDE, CALIFORNIA
To: COL. WILLIAM KOUTRELAKOS
From: SGT. ANDREW M. BURSTEIN
Re: THE MARGOLIS KID
WE STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HIM, BUT WE FINALLY FIGURED OUT HOW HE GOT HERE. APPARENTLY THE TRANSPORT VEHICLE WAS LEFT UNGUARDED IN THE LOADING BAY AT THE BROOKLYN NAVY YARD WHILE CPL. BUNTZ WAS MOVING HIS BOWELS ELSEWHERE. THIS GAVE THE KID JUST ENOUGH TIME TO HOP ON BOARD AND TUNNEL HIS WAY THROUGH 200 DUFFEL BAGS HEADED FOR PENDLETON. IT LOOKS LIKE HE HAD QUITE A SETUP BACK THERE—WE FOUND TWO STERNO CANS. A BOX OF MATCHES, A FLASHLIGHT, A STACK OF SUPERMAN COMIC BOOKS, AND ENOUGH GROCERIES TO FEED THE THIRD DIVISION FOR A WEEK. (CPL. BUNTZ ADMITTED THAT HE SMELLED PORK AND BEANS ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE COUNTRY BUT ASSUMED IT WAS THE CARBURETOR.) WE ALSO DISCOVERED A SMALL HOLE CUT INTO THE CANVAS SIDING—PRESUMABLY THE KID’S EMERGENCY BACKUP IF HE COULDN’T MAKE IT TO THE NEXT REST STOP. SO FAR THE WEATHER BUREAU HAS NOT RECEIVED ANY REPORTS OF AMBER RAIN FROM CONFUSED MOTORISTS, SO WE’RE PROBABLY SAFE ON THAT SCORE.
OUTSIDE OF ADMITTING THAT HE HAS ARMY BUSINESS UP AT MANZANAR, HE INSISTS THAT HE IS ONLY REQUIRED TO GIVE US HIS NAME, RANK AND SERIAL NUMBER. (IN SUPPORT OF HIS ARGUMENT, HE CITES THE USMC CODE OF REGULATIONS AND THE SHORES OF TRIPOLI, WITH RANDOLPH SCOTT. HOLLYWOOD IS TURNING INTO A REAL PAIN IN THE NECK.) THEN HE ASKED TO SEE PVT. BANKS AND PFC. STUKER, BOTH OF WHOM ARE STATIONED HERE AT THE BASE.
WE’VE CALLED THEM IN FROM THE FIELD AND WILL KEEP YOU ADVISED.
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Dear Mrs. Toots,
I knew he was going to pull something like this. Didn’t I say he was going to pull something like this? Just like I know that my name is Charlie Banks 3d Base and I was born in Wisc. and I am 24 and I love you, I knew he was going to pull something like this. Do I know this kid or what?
We were in the middle of crawling through bushes and trees and shooting each other due to war games when they sent a Jeep for me and Stuke. Right away we thought the jig was up and we were getting court-marshaled on account of they figured out that “APSFY Sir” means AND P.S. FUCK YOU. Instead they took us to the CO’s office and the first thing we heard in the waiting room was Joey’s voice from inside saying “Do not be a biscuithead. You start with the Gilbert Islands and work your way up to Japan. Smokes, even a girl knows that.” When they finally let us in, he was pointing to a big map on the wall and chewing out the Col. for Bataan and Singapore by using such words as “creepback” and “fringe merchants” and “working their bolt” and “aiming stakes”. and if you didn’t know he was only 13 you would of thought that Patton shrunk. Even the Col. did not know what in Hell he was talking about. So instead of finding out, he gave us 72 hrs. leave to get him off the base and make sure he never came back. Who does he think we are—Houdini? How are we suppose to fit everything into 72 hrs.???? These are only some of the places I want to take him. (1) Graumans Chinese and the footprints. (2) Brown Derby (which is shaped like one). (3) Arroyo Seco Pkway (where you can drive all the way to Pasadena without any stop signs). (4) Angels Flight Trolly (which goes up and down instead of back and forth). (5) Hollywood Canteen. (6) Bogey’s house. (7) The “O” in the sign that says HOLLYWOODLAND, where you can sit at 6:00 in the A.M. while the sun is coming up and play “In the Mood” on your sax. And etc. It is a good thing I already started my list, because I knew he was going to pull something like this. Then we are going up to the Army Base at Manzanar to see what kind of trouble Craig has got himself into now, and to bring him and his folks home once in for all. Concentration camp my ass. The kids also said the old lady with the wooden leg was a spy.
We just got into L.A. and found ourself a room at the Biltmore. (Stuke gets to pay for it on account of he is a Pfc. and I’m not.) We wanted to take Joey to dinner at the Pig N Whistle but he is out like a light. He earned it. 3000 miles across the whole U.S.A. right under their nose and they never got wise to him.
Didn’t I tell you he was going to pull something like this?
Love,
Pvt. Charlie
P.S. Thanks for squaring things with his Mom and Aunt Carrie. Maybe you can bluff them out of being sore a
t him by telling them that he forgot the difference between Calif. and Delaware. That happens to me all the time. Idaho, Nebraska, who gives a shit? Either way, we will make sure he is on the train by Thurs. so he will be home in time for school.
P.S.2. Oh yeah. He’s suppose to write an essay about spring vacation now. I told him that if he puts me in this one I will cut his hands off. Otherwise they will probably make us go to England and eat with the damn Queen or somebody.
P.S.3. Can you believe that he put one over on the whole USMC and got away with it???? I can’t even scratch my ass without getting gigged.
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Dear Rachel,
Well, you said I could write to you in Atlantic Beach, so I am. Right now I’m in California with Charlie and Stuke, and I thought about you tonight because we had dinner with Barbara Stanwyck at Ciro’s. (In case I forgot to mention it, she’s a close personal friend.) I told her that she was your favorite, so just before she kissed me goodnight she came up with the idea of signing a menu for you. Here it is. It’s supposed to say “To my dearest fan Rachel, thank you,” except I got chocolate moose on “dearest”. And in case you’re wondering, underneath it is Clark Gable’s. I don’t even know if you like him, but he always gets sore when we ask Barbara to sign stuff for our friends and we don’t ask him too. So does Mickey Rooney.