Three Twisted Stories (15 page)

Dear Robert:

What a crazy day! I met with my lawyer all morning. He thinks the best route vis-à-vis the stabbing charge (it wasn’t me) is to get something on Rebekkah. She’s getting out of solitary today, so I have to be quick.

I feel really bad about this because I think of Rebekkah as a friend. Well, as friend-like as you can get on the inside. We all know that the two rules of prison are (1) Don’t run from the po-po and (2) Don’t tell anybody anything you wouldn’t tell the judge. I think being out of the swamp has made Rebekkah soften a bit. Not that she wouldn’t have my back in a knife fight (thank God!), but she’s so out of her element that she’s clinging to the familiar, and in this case, that familiar is me. Let’s face it—you don’t find many Indian or Jewish cliques in prison (mostly because we’re all in medical school. Ha ha).

But let’s go back to Rebekkah, who I really do feel sorry for. She’s been very depressed without Remmy (Buell—not so much). I finally got her to come clean about the whole World Record thing. It’s as I suspected. Rebekkah used her Veterans’ Benefits to help Remmy get the tongue picture professionally Photoshopped (she fought in the Korean War—that’s where she met Buell’s father, “a goy with the right amount of toes”). She and Remmy never in a million years thought that you’d send an actual Adjudicator to the deep, dark swamplands.

Frankly, neither did I, but that’s a conversation for another day.

The thing is: remember I told you about that cherry box? The one that was on the mantel that Rebekkah was about to open in front of Buell? And then she had it in her lap after she (allegedly) chopped off his leg with an ax and (allegedly) drowned him?

Well, since I told the lawyer the same story as I’m telling you, he’s thinking that there must be something in that box that Buell didn’t want to see. If I can find out what’s in there, then I can testify against Rebekkah in exchange for a get-out-of-jail-free card. Because, let’s be honest, there are tons of snitches in jail—death row would be empty without them!—but if I could get that BOX and tell the judge and whoever would listen that Rebekkah showed it to me, that she trusted and confided in me … well, you see where this is going.

Your wife is a lawyer, right? She knows how these things work. Right?

The only thing is, the box was returned to Remmy (Buell’s closest relative who didn’t [allegedly] kill him), and while Remmy loves his mama, there’s only one thing that is more important to him than she is.

We see this every day in the field, Robert—people so desperate to be something, to have One Thing that they are Certifiably Better At than anyone else on the entire planet. They need that accomplishment. And we need them to succeed. Adjudicators are people, too. We need to know that there are Record Holders out there enjoying life to the fullest each and every day—and who gives them that magic, that life-altering designation that makes them somebody?

We do.

And we love them for it. We take pride in giving it to them. We mourn the loss when they lose it. I know you felt the same pain as I did when we heard that Lee Redmond
¹
was in that accident. The loss wasn’t just hers—it belonged to all of us.
Remember, it was me who saw you crying in the bathroom. It was me who helped comfort you during that awful time of need. Remember how much you laughed when I put that balloon animal on you? Oh, the smile on your face was worthy of a photograph. Several photographs. And because of that time we had together, I know you understand what it’s like to want some poor soul who’s been a loser all of their life to be a Winner.

So here’s the thing, Robert: I need you to certify Remmy Rothstein as having the Longest Tongue in the World (man). As you know, my badge is suspended pending trial or I’d do it myself. I know this is a stretch to ask you, but I need to let you know, Robert, that I’ve been thinking about turning these correspondences into a book. My lawyer has already gotten me an agent (trust me, between the two of them, I’m not going to have that much money left) and she thinks she can get me a book deal in the mid–seven figures. And it can or cannot include the bit about our balloon animal sexcapades, and before you say no, please look at the attached picture, which I’ve also shared with my lawyer.

Peace,

Mindy

PS: We need to talk about Kaitlyn.

(attachment: Robert_BalloonOnPenis.jpg)

FROM THE NEW YORK HEADQUARTERS OF THE WORLD RECORD HOLDERS’ OFFICE OF ASSESSORS

Dear Mr. Rothstein:

Congratulations! You have been certified as having the Longest Tongue in the World (man)! From tip to top, your measurement of 3.9 inches has been Adjudicated as the World Record; thus, you may from here on out, or until the record is broken, call yourself a World Record Holder.

Holding a World Record is an Awesome Responsibility, Mr. Rothstein, and please be sure that your information, as well as supporting documentation, is contained in the World Record Holder’s Assessors’ Office vault in New York City. This information will be kept for your lifetime and will continue to stand so long as the Record is held.

Congratulations again, sir. You are literally One-Of-A-Kind!

Paolo Pergini

President

World Record Holders Association Corp.

Hi, Robert—

Two Egg is really lovely this time of year. People keep saying it’s hot, but I say it’s a wet heat. Makes all the difference. Woke up to 98 degrees but it feels like 110 and it’s not even noon yet! No need to even take a shower! Saves lots of time!

As you know, I’m here to Adjudicate Mrs. McGubberson’s nostril, but I wanted to let you know that I saw Mindy’s book at the airport bookstore. Not just the one in New York, but in Chicago, Fargo, Seattle, and finally Sarasota—every single airport where I had a layover on my flight to Florida. How crazy is that? Our Mindy a
New York Times
bestseller! Hello, Ms. Steel
¹
!

I have to admit that I actually bought a copy. I just couldn’t resist. How many books has Gillian Flynn
²
said she wished she’d written? Everyone on every plane seemed to be reading it, and I have to admit Mindy has been really good in all those television interviews. Though I never realized she’s as short as Matt Lauer! Seriously, though, I’m glad that she’s doing so well. And you were so heartbroken that night in Knoxville when you found out she was leaving the firm. I’m so glad I was there to comfort you. And to do with you all the other magical things we did. Oh, don’t worry, Robert, I’m not going to bring that up again! I’m moving on! Honest!

Anyhoo, long day tomorrow—Mrs. McGubberson lives six hours from the motel—so I should tuck myself into bed. Definitely the kind of place where you sleep with all your clothes on! I’m starting Mindy’s book tonight and will let you know how it goes.

I have to say the title has me a little puzzled—TWELVE TOES IN A BOX?

I don’t get it.

Kaitlyn

PHOTO: ALISON ROSA

K
ARIN
S
LAUGHTER
is the
New York Times
and #1 internationally bestselling author of
Cop Town, Unseen, Criminal, Fallen, Broken, Undone, Fractured, Beyond Reach, Triptych, Faithless, Indelible, A Faint Cold Fear, Kisscut
, and
Blindsighted
, as well as the e-novellas “Busted,” “Snatched,” “Thorn in My Side,” “Go Deep,” “Necessary Women,” and “Remmy Rothstein Toes the Line”; she also contributed to and edited
Like a Charm
. To date, her books have been translated into more than thirty languages. She is a native of Atlanta, Georgia, where she currently lives and is working on her next novel.