Pour L’argument

by Ben Tyrrell

Marjorie,

  I bought this card because there’s a Robert Olen Butler quote on the back, and I think his situation is very similar to ours.  In that you’re a contemptible hack who ditched me because I’m so much more talented than you.  The dog holding the baby on the front is very fitting as well, seeing as I don’t know where my son is because of an insane, withholding bitch.
  Mainly, though, I decided to write you to tell you how immature you’ve been about this whole thing.  Not once have you asked how I felt.  Not once have you tried to contact me.  Once again, I’ve had to be the bigger person.  I hope you’re enjoying yourself.  I hope you’re having fun in Paris.

                        Bobby

P.S.  I want my dog back.


###

Marjorie,

  I contacted your mother.  She was quite surprised to hear that you’ve run out on me.  Sean is well, though I imagine he’ll be quite bitter later in life that his wild, irresponsible mother abandoned him – and his father – to get drunk and socialize in a foreign country.  Your mother has agreed to keep an eye on him until you get back, or until I’m done with my novel.  There’s a bit of uncertainty as to which will come first.  I’ve regained custody of Clemens.  I won’t make the mistake of leaving him with you again.
  I can’t understand why you’ve gone.  Despite all you’ve done, I’m still willing to take you back.  All will be forgiven if you return now.  Think on it.

                      Regards,
                        Bobby


###

Marjorie,

  This is the small town in France (see front of card) where I’ve decided to write the novel.  I find France perfect for work, don’t you?  It’s so quiet.  Of course, I don’t speak the language.  I guess for you, France is just a vacation spot.  I’ve brought Clemens with me.  He has so much fun chasing the pigeons.  There’s an old man named Jean Paul who sits at the bistro around the corner who speaks English, and in the evenings we sit and laugh at Clemens.  Jean Paul has turned me onto moules frites, which he says stimulate the soul and get the writing juices flowing.
  If you’re interested, and still in Paris, you should come down for a day.  I think you’d really enjoy this place.  Not more than a day – I am here to work – but I find myself missing your presence.

                        Bobby


###

Marjorie,

  Your post all arrived on the same day.  It’s taken a few days just to sort it all out.
  I can’t believe these accusations.  First and foremost, I had no idea that you were still in Paris.  I had all but convinced myself that you’d gone home to take care of your son.  Who, may I remind you, you left FIRST, after taking him away from me.  Have you even checked up on him?  I’ve sent him postcards almost every day.  Secondly, Clemens has and always will be my dog.  You were against getting him.  You said he would ruin your flowers and shit on your couch.  Finally, I see no basis in your accusation that this whole ordeal is my fault.  Who walked out on whom? 

                        Bobby


###

Marjorie,

  It was wonderful running into you like that in Paris.  How strange that the lamppost I’d decided to climb came to its peak at your window.  Jean Paul and I had a good laugh about it on our way back to Gordes.  I’ve looked over the divorce papers.  It all seems very fair.  Of course you would take full custody of Sean – I am, after all, writing my novel.  I understand how I would have no time for anything else.  As for the house, since I am here it makes sense that you take it.  It’s in a good neighborhood, a good place to raise a son.  A safe place for a newly single woman.  Not that you have much to worry about.  Your new young man seems very sturdy.
  Anyway, I hope things are well for you.  I’ll contact you when I get back stateside, just to see how you’re doing.

                  All the best,
                        Bobby

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| Ben Tyrrell

Ben Tyrrell is in limbo.  He is two years out of college, and probably years away from grad school.  He works dead-end jobs and writes to fill his schedule.  He has published one short story, entitled “Ugly,” in the now defunct litmag, The Blotter.  He lives in Greensboro, North Carolina.