To: Tess Lorantz c/o Eileen Gold, Leavenworth, KS

From: Alvy Garraldo, Geneva, NY

Sepember 29, 20+6

T.-

You wouln’t beleive it. fucking fired. fucking fired me. Said I was drinkning to much and was no good laying abound, hiting the stupid wetbacks to hard.

Those squarhead fucks. Wasnt my fault harvist failed. No shitfuking rain this year. Everything dry as bones.

Show them. so dry, Ill burn it all all down. piss on it the ashes.

Fuckins squarheads. The’ll burn.

Than Im coming for you.

-A.

To: Tess Lorantz c/o Eileen Gold, Leavenworth, KS

From: Alvy Garraldo, Geneva, NY

October 19, 20+3

Tess-

Want to apologize for the last letter. Everything had hit rock bottom on the island and in the metro area. Riots, Papa’s wine tour business had gone under, of course (not that there was much wine then, anyway), there was hardly enough food to cut it here, and people out and out starving in the city, no word from you.

Still none.

Moved to Geneva this spring. Things improved a bit last year – most folks are somehow or other getting enough food to scrape by – but once Papa died I couldn’t stand it anymore. He had a good connection to one of the wineries up here, so I’m upstate for the long haul. I’m a glorified fucking day laborer, but I do mostly supervising and at least there’s enough to eat and drink at the end of the day.

The whole thing is still eerie as shit, though. Like these guys I’m working for, they turn Rieslings by the boatload. I don’t go for it all that much, but again, beggars ain’t choosy. So, they have all this white, and with what doesn’t sell or isn’t the best they make brandy out of it. I’ve been there when they’re doing this. The brandy turns out OK, right, but they’ve tried making moonshine or some shit out of it. They tried it once. Once they get their still rolling and it was pumping out stuff that was 100 proof or above, the weird shit happened. The booze curdled into this gray sludgy shit. It backed up the still and almost blew up before we got it off the fire. That would’ve been the end of me, at least. But instead, it’s just the end of trying to make white lightning. Seriously, what the fuck is that stuff?

Still missing you, T. If you get this, come back to New York. I’ve got a little credit with these guys and can spring – in bottles of Riesling and Pinot Grigio – for your trip. When you get to town, just ask about Wilson Creek Vineyard and Farm. We make plenty of deliveries into town, and can pick you up there.

-Alvy

P.S. – Say hello to your aunt from me.

To: Tess Lorantz c/o Eileen Gold, Leavenworth, KS

From: Alvy Garraldo, West Babylon, NY

July 13, 20+1

Tess-

Where are you? Where are you? Haven’t heard a fucking thing, not a word out of you for over a year now. Things are shit here. Just shit. Are you seeing the date I’m writing this on? You swore to me, PROMISED ME IN FRONT OF GOD AND EVERYBODY you’d always be here for me. And WHERE ARE YOU NOW?!

You fucking liar.

-A.

[Keeping these together, just in case we get more. -Rand M.]