a conversation i listened in on,
barbara said, "remember the whole raskin period?"
"raskin? who's that?"
"little new york bastard. raskin. that raskin."
"bandanas and october supplies?"
"mmm-hmm. you don't remember him?"
linda thought about it, shook her head, no, she didn't remember.
"it was when we were still at cambridge," barbara said. "a year or so before kristen met chad. she had a mystery man, this poor boy from queens, dylan raskin. he wanted to be a writer, and he would write kristen letters five pages long while he was living at home with his mother in new york. they were like love-letter compositions, essays almost, sweet, sweeter than anything. almost too sweet. kristen used to read them to me, and when she asked what i thought, i said he seems like the kind of man who cries very easily.....but i think what she really wanted to know was whether i thought he was brilliant and gifted or just crazy. and i said he was both. and a few years later when i read 'bandanas and october supplies' and realized the author was kristen's dylan, i was still of that opinion."
"i never heard a weird story about raskin," linda admitted.
"i have never heard a story about him that wasn't weird. he's definitely not your normal everyday poor boy from queens."