PEARL’S SELF INFLICTED DRAMA

Ladies,

Yes, I am alive and well. I regret to inform the both of you that I, Pearl S. Dunbar...of the Boston Dunbar's, will not be able to attend the coronation of Midge, the Alumnus of the Millennium. It was so nice to read of Midge's honor and of Liberty Belle's jealousy. While the two of you have seen fit to bicker back and forth about this tacky, unnecessary, albeit, delightful title, I have been fighting for my life. That's right, fighting for my life.

My last transmission to the both of you was on November 10, 1999 and what a long, strange trip it has since been. You may remember that I was living in The Windy City and working for my father. I was toiling away at answering phones and fetching cappuccinos for the President of the Midwest Region of Dunbar Savings and Loan, Mr. Herb B. Monett. Herbi (that's what I called him) turned out to be not the nicest of employers. He was constantly taunting me with snide remarks and callous advances. On the afternoon of November 15, 1999 I had had enough.

The day began like any other: Alarm at 6:30 am, snooze until 7:00 am, a quick shower, a Pop Tart, a Coke, a Marlboro Light........then off to the train. Half way to the train platform a freak snowstorm blew in from Lake Michigan and stopped all commuters (and trains) in their tracks. I waited and waited for the next train but to no avail; they had stopped running. The queue at the taxi stand had grown out of control and buses were filled to capacity. I searched for a phone to let Herbi know of my predicament. He was livid. He said snow was no excuse and I had better learn to deal with Chicago weather. What was I to do? I could not let Herbi fire me. My father would certainly cut me off completely. I started to walk. By this time the snow was up to my ankles and wind was racing along at 45 mph. Suddenly a car pulled up along side me and nice looking woman rolled down the window and asked a favor. She asked if I would mind her vehicle while she ran inside the Starbucks. She didn't want to find a place to park and risk stalling her car. As she waited in line for her coffee I could wait no longer. Thoughts of unemployment danced in my head. I couldn't control myself. I hopped in the driver's side and was off. I had stolen this woman's car. I was a madwoman. A madwoman.

I sped downtown thinking of a way to stash the car before work. I pulled into a downtown garage and found an empty spot. It was when I got out of the car I noticed it: The Child Restraint Seat in the backseat WITH a child in it!

Not only was I now guilty of Grand Theft Auto but add abduction to the mix and you've got trouble. What was I to do? I just couldn't leave the toddler to freeze in the non-heated garage. I scooped up the baby and headed for the elevator. When it reached ground level I scurried out and headed for my building. I went in the McDonald's on the lower level and went directly to the ladies room. I quickly scribbled a note:

Please take care of my baby.
I just can't handle this bundle of pure joy.
Give my baby a good home and let him know his mother loved him.

I attached the note to his little bib and hurried up to work. Someone would surely find him soon and take him to the police. I had to get to work. I was late.

Just as I reached my cubicle Herbi called me into his office. As I walked in I noticed he had been crying. He informed me that his wife had been carjacked and his son kidnapped. I panicked. What dumb luck for me to steal his wife's car and his son. I was gone for sure. He asked that I handle the press that was gathering in the lobby. He told me that his wife had to be taken to the hospital and on the verge of a breakdown. Herbi was headed to the hospital where the police assured him of his son's recovery.

Never have I been so terrified in my entire life. What was I to do? With all the courage I could muster I calmed myself and headed downstairs to read a prepared statement from the Monett family. The family was offering a $25,000 reward for the safe return of the baby Matthew and $3,000 for the safe return of the stolen Sports Utility Vehicle.

I handled the onslaught of questions with the efficiency of a White House press secretary. I begged and pleaded for the return of baby Matthew. To myself I wondered why this kid had not been found yet. I could see the McDonalds from my podium. Why had he not been found?

In hindsight, appearing before the press was not such a good idea. I was on every channel and my picture would surely be front and center on that afternoon's paper. Someone would recognize me. I was going to get caught.

I needed a plan and quickly. I had to skip town. The first thing I thought was that you two, my dear sisters Liberty Belle and Midge, would help me hide and find a new identity. I had to get to you. Fast.

After the press conference I jumped in a cab and headed for my apartment. I packed the smallest of suitcases and headed for the Amtrak station. The airport was out of the question (the snow). I bought a ticket for the next train to California which, luckily, was leaving in a few minutes.

To make a long story short I got as far was Tuckahoe, Wyoming.

I was arrested without incident in the parking lot of the International House of Pancakes. I sit here in the Cook County Lock-Up for women awaiting trial for the kidnapping and murder of 8 month old Matthew Monett. The body was never found and they are convinced that I threw him into Lake Michigan. The lake cannot be dragged until the Spring Thaw.

My dear sisters, I did not kill that child. He was alive and well in the Ladies Room of that McDonalds. No one believes me.

So, while the two of you bicker over which one of you deserves to be Alumnus of the Millennium just think about me in the slammer. God knows I'll be thinking of you.

I hope you both can be in attendance at my trial starting on March 6, 2000.

Wishing you well I remain,
Pear S. Dunbar.....of the Boston Dunbars Inmate #13184579782