Dear Betty,

October time. It's here!

August feels like it was yesterday and, yet, I've changed a bit since then. I finally went to the doctor for one exact thing (I'm not telling you. It wasn't the grapes thing. I am still eating those), college started, I'm a god now... Time moves fast when you're trying to take two months to repair what you broke in the last five, I suppose. I feel like I'm better now. Not calmer-- I don't think I'll ever be calmer-- but definitely more in my element, less frantic, and less desperately lonely. Rationally, I know about the importance of hope. The difference is, now I can actually feel it.

It's nice. I don't want to let it go.

I'm writing this close to Halloween, since that makes me think of you (and all the other letters I wrote got eaten by Kepler when he was rampaging a few days ago).

Kepler is an alien, by the way. I'm not sure from where. I figured you would find that neat. I haven't told him yet, but I've been working on a communication device in secret so he can tell me things if he wants to, when he's ready. I just want to know his story, I guess. (I also want to know every little detail about where he's from, their societal customs, their technologies, how he got here, if that UFO that abducted me last summer was one of his, if the other UFO I saw on Christmas Eve was dropping him off, why they're rat-shaped, what the reason for his being here is, what evolutionary advantage the glowing bits have, how he really feels about living here-- everything.)

I will admit I have become attached to him. Just having him back and rooting around has made everything feel a little less empty.

As it stands, Aunt Esther is trying to do my hair, and reading over my shoulder-- I KNOW YOU ARE, AUNTIE, SAY HI TO BETTY. (She says hi. She also wants to know if you're eating enough. I told her it's a weird thing to ask.)

It's almost Halloween! I'm actually dressing up this year! After sixteen years of not being allowed to and two more of spending it semi-alone with a horror movie, I decided fuck it, I'm taking Darren from next door trick or treating. I'm also dressing up like Tiffany Valentine in the first few minutes of Bride of Chucky (you know how much I love that movie, and it isn't like I have the patience to do The Fly anyway, what with all the prosthetic SFX I would need). Maybe I'll actually get used to seeing my legs!

Okay, Aunt Esther is telling me that being skittish about seeing my thighs is some modesty culture bullshit, and I suppose she's right, but she doesn't have to say it right now while she's tugging my hair with a comb-- I'll come back to this letter in a minute, when we're done talking.

I'm back. We came to an agreement, though it wasn't much of a disagreement to begin with; I wanted to try out seeing more of my legs anyway, and Halloween is a good time to experiment with expressions of the self-- irrelevant. That's irrelevant.

Anyway. Not to sound like a pin from the Hot Topic cheapo bin, but being normal is really hard, and splitting my life is harder. Don't get me wrong, I'll do it. I'm fine with doing it. Whatever gets eyes off Lake Wonder, you know?

But-- it's bad. It's going bad. I feel like I've faded away entirely, like I'm not myself in the slightest. Basically all anyone knows about me is that I'm from Florida and moved "recently," I'm eighteen (odd for this level of classwork), and I'm from Lake Wonder. The town becomes the weird thing, not me. Usually, I prefer it to be the opposite. Maybe that would have kept the BRD out of our hair.

I suppose that isn't true, that it's all anyone knows about me. In my attempt to make friends through organic chemistry, I went to do that "urbex" thing (their word, not mine) with a few of my classmates out at Lumberland. It was very illegal and, almost karmically, a few restless Halloween spirits (upset because of separate corporate bullshit encroaching on them and their space-- you get it) started attacking us, and I had to do the mad science thing to save them. Also, Kepler did his thing. I don't think Olive or Tony are going to speak to me again outside of organic chemistry stuff. Olive hasn't even shown up to do our lab work lately (which is bad, because she's my lab partner, meaning I have to do everything myself).

I guess I just have to keep trying. There have to be people who are more accepting out there, right? I would assume so. We already have people like Eddy, Darius, Eliza, Ant, and Percy. We all know. We can't be the only ones our age who do. (I know your cousin Lucky exists, but I haven't seen them in a while and also maybe we shouldn't meet. I feel like their interest in Kepler would be too great, even if I can count them among the fellow believers.)

Rereading the previous two paragraphs has got me thinking. It's silly, but I've been thinking a lot about how this is kind of my home now. I didn't think I had one, for a while. I don't want to jinx it (which is why you're the only person I'm telling this to right now), but I think this might be where I belong. Florida is still capital-H Home, but Lake Wonder is the real deal. Everyone I care about is here (except you, Drake, and Andy, since the two of you are in the fae realm and Andy is just in Florida). Much to think about there-- which is why I'll put it on a shelf and think about it later, after I get home from trick or treating with Darren and "picking up Drew" (which I think we all know means I'll get roped into hanging out with his friends until I can convince him to come home).

[CUT THIS IN THE FINAL VERSION, TIFF.] [I'm going to let you in on something I haven't mentioned to anyone outside the family yet. Drew wants to head to Florida to see the rest of the family, since he's never been, and he asked Aunt Esther and I to come with him (for moral support, I guess). I don't want to go. But-- maybe things have changed in the time since I've been away. Maybe they've gotten better. My parents actually wanted Andy; maybe they got their shit together and stopped being so horrible for him once I was gone. I wouldn't know; I haven't spoken to them since Christmas. Peepaw Zacharias is a different story. I know he hasn't changed. Apparently, he has been like this since Aunt Esther was a kid.

I'm just scared, I guess. I don't want things to go badly. It isn't like Drew knows our family sucks ass, is in a cult, and was horribly abusive (god, I hate that word, but it's the one Aunt Esther uses) to his mom and cousin, and it isn't like Aunt Esther is letting me tell him that's why neither of us want to go. I don't know what her vendetta against talking about this specific thing and about supernatural things in general is, but it's getting in the way.]

Anyway, I mentioned the BRD, so I suppose it's time to get into town news.

The Black Robes Division. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to get information about them. The US government is a cesspool of corruption and conspiracy and the very existence of the BRD proves that. All I know is that they're here to "tamp down" the "supernatural threat" that Lake Wonder poses. I think they're a bigger threat to us than anything we've had to investigate. I mean, how many times have mere citizens saved the world? It has been at least two over as many years, with smaller town-saving experiences interspersed. (God, living on a semi-cosmic scale really warps your perception of what is and isn't earth-shattering.)

I suppose that's worth explaining, too. I mentioned in my last letter that a group of us saved the world from a cosmic-scale eldritch threat summoned by Chip Winger and I almost died trying to drag it back through the portal (people love to strangle me, I guess), but the aftermath of that was twofold: 

1. The BRD moved in, sectioned off Lake Wonder, tested everyone in town for magical abilities, and then mostly left (except they're basically running the town these days), and

2. New Greg, realizing that he could not protect things in the way he used to due to his waning power (which is something he warned us about the first time we met), retired and appointed a group of us in his stead.

I don't know why he thought that four teenagers, three of which have some specific issues, would be good candidates for something like this, but here we are. Sure, Eddy gets sick all the time, Drake's entire thing is that he doesn't want to get chosen, Tiff is a ticking time bomb waiting to explode everywhere, and Darius has a budding musical career to take care of, but it's still a good idea to appoint these four specific teenagers to this post? What were they thinking? I spent the entire time talking about how I might be ontologically evil. Eddy demanded he receive Groot as payment. We spent twenty minutes going insane in a bathroom. This was a horrible idea. That doesn't mean we're not going to do it. (I think the High Council of Elder Guardians is ignoring me, because they did this back in August and haven't spoken to me since. I know Darius probably hasn't gotten anything, either. He hasn't even been in town lately. He's been touring. Eddy is sick again, so I haven't asked him, either, and you know I can't talk to Drake.)

It's kinda funny. It's like Drake is twice the guardian now-- one in practice and chosenness, and one in cosmic divinity. (That is a gross phrase and I'm never going to use it again. Gross. "Cosmic divinity." Gross, gross, gross.)

I'll be honest, I don't know how your mom has been coping with all of this. A lot of stress-baking, I suppose. I suggested that your family head out on a road trip, but she kinda shut that down and I didn't float the idea again. (I'll admit I avoided her for a week after that, which made picking up groceries very hard.)

Before I go-- somehow, Denny knew I was writing a letter (she's so fucking weird and I don't know how she knew that, because lettersense isn't a lycanthrope thing) and she texted me to tell you that:

1. she's rebuilding her ancestral cabin out in the woods (which is true. I have been helping), and

2. she wants to know if you want a library room in there or not, since "I already gave up the basement to Tiff and whatever the hell she's doing down there, but there's still room upstairs."

I don't know how she thinks you're going to answer that, since I haven't figured out interdimensional communication yet (not for lack of trying). I swear, you make a guy an HONORARY Groundskeeper as a part of a ritual to free a freeway from magic gone wrong ONE TIME and instantly she thinks she's SO SMART. (I'm being silly, of course. Playing up my outrage. Ribbing. You get it.) "Just ask her." It's a letter, Denny! I am not talking to her directly! Goddamn...

Hey, at the very least, I'll get an answer back sometime. I'm a guardian now! If I can't figure it out, then who can? Or-- the High Council of Elder Guardians said something about needing to mess with time and save the world again sometime soon. I'll see Drake as a part of that. Maybe he can get this to you. (They refused to execute me for my murder crimes, so the "final request" route is out. Go figure.)

Okay, okay. Enough Tiff talk; enough about Lake Wonder. We're back to the other parts of the letter.

Again, I have letters from your parents and Max and drawings from Timmy. Your parents were in a bind, so I offered to pick him up after school one time while I was desperately trying to fix things-- things are fine now, for the record-- and he thrust a bunch of them at me and made me stop at my house so he could photocopy them. What a kid. I couldn't say no. You do, of course, also have some Timmy originals (but he wanted to keep the squirrel drawings. He draws a lot of squirrels. I wonder what that's about). I did not read the letters from your mom and dad, but Max made me check the spelling on his. (The spelling was fine. I'm not sure what he was worried about.) They all miss you loads, Betty. Everyone does.

Also attached is a key lime pie recipe. Don't ask why. I do not have an explanation. It's on my desk and it's going in the envelope, as is this receipt. (No, I'm not actually putting my gas station receipt in there. I will put in a single screw-- as a joke. You understand.)

Also attached is a shirt I painted (yes, I started painting again) with a scene from LOTR (not Shelob, though that would have been funny). That's why this is a manila envelope and not a smaller one. I also started burning CDs-- but I do not have jewel cases OR the solar powered CD player finished yet, and I guess those would be things to send after lines of communication are established. (Solaring the CD player should be easy, but I've been focusing on some other, larger projects recently.)

The last attachment is a bundle of pictures. No matter how it looks, I did not secretly take them through the window while your family was having dinner. Your dad asked me to take them that way because he thought it was funny. I also have some school pictures from Max and Timmy, some pictures of things your mom made, of your family, of landmarks in town, etc. If you'll notice, the remaining pictures are old ones from all the bullshit we did-- science bowl practice, tromping around in the woods, Drake leaning over the side of the roof that one time, and some admittedly candid shots from all sorts of things. I figured you would want some visual reminders of home, and, since my computer is working again, I am more than happy to provide. (There's also a picture of Kepler in his expanded, more alien form. I didn't think it was a good idea, but he insisted. Isn't it cool?)

What else? What else?

I haven't gotten a letter back, so my questions from last time still stand. I have some more, though:

What's your living situation like? The only home I have seen there was Aconita's and I'm sure everything is not all like that (and that everyone is not like her). (Actually, I've done a bit of a 180 on her. She sucks, but I think she would be very cool to study.) Just how many books were in that collection of your ancestors', and what do they say about the chronology of Woodland Crafters in relation to what we already know about the timeline of the universe (or, rather, Lake Wonder)? I want so desperately to hear about how things have been going on your end, in the places where the rest of us can't follow.

Portals are possible with magic. Teleportation is just as possible. The issue is, I can't do that. I suppose it will take a little more time for me to figure it out-- but I'll get there eventually. I already started working on a little cube-shaped thing, almost like a radio reaching through space. (We all know that the way radios work is not like that, but it's the only comparison I could think of.)

Shit, I've been drafting this for two hours. Goddammit. I only realized because Kepler started hitting my leg with a book (at least he isn't eating it. He ate our jack o lantern). I have to stop this draft. I'll finish, rewrite, and polish it later when I get the time. I'll admit that near Halloween was a really bad time to do this.

I miss you every day, Betty. I'm counting down the ones until you can come home. You know how bad I am with calendars. I am also surprised I have been managing to do this.

Love you; I'll see you soon.

-Tiffany May Sheridan

PS: Shit, mentioning your research reminds me! I met someone I think you would think is super cool. So, you know how when I first started working at the Book Nook and you dropped in that one time, there were all those weirdly specific books on local history and folklore by Dr. Ted Theodore? Well, I met him. 

Met is the wrong word-- his department is in the same building as the forensics lab, and I saw him downstairs, froze, choked out a hello, and we got to talking. Turns out he's also a Woodland Crafter (which is something I'm only telling you because I know you would never spill that, and also he gave me permission to talk about it with any of my "little monster-hunter friends, so long as it doesn't get back to that pesky government agency that threatened my daughters and my family," which is fair enough. Well, you're my BEST little monster-hunter friend, so you're the only one I'm telling). He's so smart, and he's divorced, and Ms. Suzette (from that podcast) said that she knows his cousin and his daughters (since she married into the family sometime recently, which is something I didn't know was POSSIBLE! Did you know you could marry into a family? Riveting stuff). 

I swear to god, if I were straight, I would be crushing so hard right now on a seven-foot-tall Woodland Crafter in his sixties. (I shouldn't say that. That's a weird thing to say.)

Anyway, he's very cool and I can't wait until you come back so you can meet him. I think you would have a lot to talk about, given his knowledge of the Woodland Crafters' time on Earth and your newfound knowledge of their time abroad. I almost told him, "Hey, my best friend is like you, both in field of research and ancestry," but that would have been a serious breach of trust. You can just tell him when you get back, if you tell him at all. Rest assured, you are going to get back-- or I'll figure out interdimensional communication and your being over there will be easier for everyone involved, if you decide to stay longer. Whatever you choose, Betty. Love you. End post-script.