Dear Mothman,

I pretended to believe in you for Lewis.
I am hoping though that maybe he was right-

that he really did see you once on that sleepover in November
when frigid wind howled through the forest and everything was bare. He pointed out my window saying

"Look, Noah, look! Do you see him?" I didn't see you
but I fibbed and said, "I think I do!"

Lewis has been gone for three months now
but sometimes I still don't believe it's real.

Tonight, I walked outside
in the chilly March rain. If Lewis were here

he would have told me I was so weird
for not wearing a jacket. Mothman, do you

wear jackets? Do you ever
get cold? If you do get cold

you aren't like me. Do you wear
a chest binder or do you bind with

great broad leaves from deep in the forest?
Lewis was sure you were queer like us.

If you're not, that is OK too.
I just want to know you're there.

I'm going to lay my journal at the foot of this tree tonight
for you to read my letter.

Lewis always said
you loved to come out during thunderstorms

and tonight is the first storm of the spring.
If I'm going to find you

for my science fair project
this is my chance.

The fair is coming up soon
and I don't have any other ideas.

All I can think of anymore
is Lewis.

Lewis loved to see veins of light
pulse across the sky.

He was never afraid.
I am not like him.

I am afraid
of lightning
and thunder
and the dark woods
and even a little bit
of the thought you could be real

but still

I'm writing "Dear Mothman"
on the journal cover
so you'll know it's for you.

-Noah

Morning

Before Mom and Dad get up
I rush outside in my pajamas
to get the journal.

My feet get soaked
by the morning dew.

Everything smells green.

I find the journal open
to my letter for Mothman.

My pulse quickens.

I think
it must have been the breeze
or maybe a squirrel
that opened the journal

but

what if it wasn't?

I'm shaking the thought away.

After all, how would Mothman find
my journal

on the first night

I left a note for him
unless he was also
looking

for me?

The thought creeps me out a little.

I collect the book--
still damp
from the dew and rain
and I dash inside.

I'm thinking
maybe I'll leave
one more letter.

Dear Mothman,

Thank you for reading the first letter
though I am kind of wondering
how you found the journal so quickly.

Maybe you miss Lewis too.

Maybe you knew him.

Maybe I can tell you more about him
and then you can tell me more too.

Lewis was the first person
who understood me.

One recess, he told me he decided his name was "Lewis"
and not "Ella."

I said, "Why Lewis?" and he said
"After Lewis Carroll, he wrote Alice in Wonderland."
I thought that was such a good reason for a name.

It is also a good name for Lewis because
he's got a huge giant imagination.
I don't want to say it "was" a good name
because even though Lewis is gone
it's still a good name for him and I still talk about Lewis.

After he read Alice in Wonderland, he told me
he followed a rabbit into the woods by his house
down to a new Wonderland.
I believed him because he told me so many details
like mushrooms that spoke their own languages
and a tea that tasted like cherry juice.

Later, Lewis explained he was just imagining it.
I wished I was that good at imagining.

My name was "Nora."
Well, my name still is kind of "Nora"
or maybe it always was "Nora." I don't know
how names really work.

I told Lewis my new name was "Noah"
and he said, "After Noah's Ark?" and I said, "Yes, like Noah's Ark
because I love animals."
I was in a really big zoologist phase then.

Do you have a name
besides "Mothman"?

Your new friend,
Noah