Mark Dunn - Ella Minnow Pea

“Baal?” This from Mother, although I was taken aback as well.

“There’s ‘Biblical’ for you.”

My shiver was obvious.

Nate was finishing up now: “Allow me, finally, to offer up this arresting little trenchancy: given a few weeks, I, or either of you — most anyone on this isle for that matter — might learn how truly easy it is for one to create a sentence of length matching Nollop’s — perhaps one even shorter. In fact, this may be our ultimate salvation.”

Mother fell silent, I as well.

Sweet Ella, broach this at your next meeting. I am curious to learn the response it receives.

Love ,

Tassie

NOLLOPTON

Toes, September 26

Tassie,

Intriguing as Nate’s proposition is (I will present it as you suggest.), an even more curious event has taken place. An “O” has fallen. One of the four “O”s. (The last appearance in the vulpine-canine sentence.) The Council has gone into emergency session. What meaning to assign to loss of a letter whose removal leaves three companions still extant?

I carry a mischievous grin upon my lips. How will they glean? Whatever will be their ruling this time, now that Nollop has become strangely obtuse? We await their pronouncement. In the meanwhile, I eagerly await the arrival of my cousin, along with her new companion, Nate.

Love ,

Ella

NOLLOPVILLE

Wetty, September 27

My sweet Mittie,

This will be my last letter to you. I can write no more. Writing has never been an easy task for me, even prior to the loss of the fourth letter. It now takes a large part of my wakeful hours trying to make intelligible contact with those I love. I haven’t your schooling nor your facility with language. It compels all the mental energy I can summon simply to communicate orally with Cooney, not to mention the young ones.

I no longer bake cookies.

In your last letter you wrote of how unhappy you are. My hours are spent in similar melancholy. I am speaking less. There have been two slip-ups. The next will surely result in my banishment. I cannot leave my Cooney, my Sabina, my Geryl, my Ursula, as well as the one whose birth name we may never again speak. (She has chosen “Bathsheba” as a substitute, but it will take some time for me to become wholly comfortable with it.)

My sweet Mittie, it is strange, so terribly strange how taxing it has become for me to speak, to write without these four illegal letters, but especially without the fourth. I cannot see how, given the loss of one letter more, I will be able to remain among those I love, for surely will I misstep. So I have chosen to stop talking, to stop writing altogether.

Perhaps we will see each other soon. That is, if you are still here. Many, as you well know, are leaving us. Perhaps I may come to your house for a visit. (Cooney loves it there near the water. He says there is no better fishing on the isle than from the village pier near your home.) We will not speak, we two, but I eagerly expect to pore with you in warm silence over our musty high school annuals, as well as those fox-worn nature scrapbooks we spent several beautiful summers lovingly compiling.

Pray for me, sweet Mittie. Banishment for me would mean my very extermination!

Love ,

Your Agnes

THE OFFICE OF HIGH COUNCIL

NOLLOPTON

Thurby, September 28

To Agnes Prather,

We write to inform you that in your letter to one Mittie Purcy on September 27, you chose to use in the line beginning: “Banishment for me …” a letter-combination containing one of the four graphemes presently unavailable for your use per Council Statute 28–42.

Please make note that this, for you, constitutes offense number three. It will be necessary for you to report to Barkation Pier Number Seven at 9:30 a.m. on Satto-gatto, September 30 for permanent expulsion. You may bring two suitcases. We will permit, also, one hatbox.

Sincerely ,

Hamilton Ferguson

Chief Secretary High Isle Council

NOLLOPTON

Thurby, September 28

Sister Mittie,

I have news. We may continue to use the letter “O” until such time as its brothers choose to fall. (Notice that I prefer not to attribute the recurrent plunges to the Almighty Nollop!) However, the High Council asks that we cut usage of the letter by twenty-five percent. I am curious to know how they plan to police this.

Tassie is here! She arrives as I write these very lines. I have not seen my favorite niece — can you believe it? — in almost six months. Nate accompanies her. He is everything that has been written about him. Polite. Very nice looking. I will wish him luck in his meeting with Mr. Lyttle tomorrow.

A little not-so-positive news: Amos has been caught in offense number two. In last night’s poker game. It was such a foolish mistake. It might have gone without report except that Morton who owes him money chose to employ outright extortion against poor, hapless Amos. Amos’s preference was for not playing along. Imagine the effrontery: Morton attempting to ignore the offense in exchange for clearance of a rather large financial obligation. Amos thought, of course, that Morton was bluffing. Unfortunately, in this particular game, it turns out, Morton was not.

I say foolish, because any competent contemporary poker player knows that this game is rife with lexical pitfalls. Best to play in wary silence. Yet Amos wasn’t silent. In fact, Amos, thanks to chugging back four bottles of stout lager, was anything but silent. May I repeat an important part of this last statement? Four. Bottles. Yes, Amos has fallen totally off the wagon. Moreover, the wagon has all but run over him.

The wages for the topple were high: by concentrating a little too much on refraining from use of the fourth letter, he was to employ by careless miscalculation the tantamountifically perilous tenth letter of the alphabet. Thank Screnity the suit in his possession was hearts or he might be on a boat Satto-gatto morning. (King, Consort, Knave. Knave! I thought all poker players were in agreement on these new royal appellations!)

Love ,

Gwenette

NOLLOPTON

Thurby, September 28

Mother,

We are here. It was a pleasant trip.

Nate is preparing to meet with Mr. Lyttle. Aunt Gwenette is herself preparing for her big meeting tomorrow night. She will invite Nate to speak to the group. Uncle Amos agrees that this is a wise move. Nate has several things of importance to tell the members of this refreshingly subversive sub-terra group. It is all very exciting. I think we are on the brink — things possibly beginning to turn in our favor. In spite of the loss of the new tile. You will hear soon. Not to worry. It is one we can easily spare: “K.” My preference: the loss of another “O,” but we can certainly live with this.

I love you, Mother. (Please Heavenly Nollop, spare “V” till the last, so that I may continue to profess my affection for my precious mamah!)

Tassie

PS. The statutes come with greater alacrity. The latest official elision takes place at 12:00 on the Satto-Sunshine cusp!

PPS. I am falling in love with Nate. There was a kiss — a passionate kiss — on the trip to town.

It took me completely by surprise. Kkkkkiss me again, Nate, while I may still speak of it!

NOLLOPVILLE

Fribs, September 29

My loving Tassie,

I must tell you of something nice that has taken place. I was sent an invitation by Mr. Rory Cummels who you will remember is the owner of the market in our village. To come to his house for coffee — for a pleasant neighborly chat. Rory hasn’t the trouble most here in Nollopville have in carrying on conversation without the usual stuttering stoppages that seem to penetrate every verbal exchange I engage in in these trying times. It seems a gift, his knowing instantly which letter combinations to use to bypass the verboten ones.