Seven could hear the Colonel’s voice although the room remained silent. It was only one word. One word was all that was needed: “look,” he heard echoing throughout his head. The Colonel’s mouth remained closed; the instruction was not actually spoken.
Seven reacted at the Colonel’s direct order as he always had. He walked quickly over to the dresser and inspected it. There was nothing to speak of on top of it. He pulled it from against the wall to see if some precious treasure had fallen behind it. There was nothing there. He could feel the impatience beginning to fester inside the Colonel. The voice in his head was now shouting the one-word command, “Look.” Seven nervously pulled the top drawer open and began to shuffle through the neatly folded underwear and T-shirts. He heard the sound of paper rubbing against the wooden drawer. He snaked his right hand to the back of the drawer. He discovered the source of the sound.
There were fifteen of them in total, all unopened and secured together with an aged leather strap. The letters were addressed to Gilbert Andrews Jr. with a return address of Florida State Hospital, Chattahoochee, Florida. Seven stared at the bundle of letters after he and the Colonel had retreated to their traditional morning place on the front porch of the farmhouse. The Colonel was sitting in his rocking chair, his eyes open and fixed at absolutely nothing in the front yard. Having had what appeared to be a moment of consciousness he had returned to his vegetative state and it depleted all of his energy reserves. He rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes.
The handwriting on each envelope was sloppy and it looked like a child had written them. There was no name above the return address. Seven could tell that the letters were old without looking at the postage dates. The envelopes were once white, but time had aged them to a dark yellow and some even appeared light brown. He inspected each one carefully; they were in no particular order. The postage dates indicated that one letter was sent in March of every year for fifteen years. The last one was dated about six years prior. Seven was still in college at Florida State when the last letter was delivered.