“Let me put it to you this way. I’m so tired of working at that post office I could scream. Let me give you a idea of what I do all day long. Today the computer broke down, so I had to figure out how long everybody’s frigging route was gon’ take by hand, which meant I had to multiply the time it’s supposed to take ’em to deliver the mail to each mailbox—which is eighteen seconds—by the number of houses on each of they routes. Oh, I forgot to mention that four of ’em called in sick today, so I had to find backup carriers, and then one of the trucks broke down and I busted some of the carriers bullshitting when they was supposed to be sorting out they route, ’cause they’ll do anything to get some overtime, and then we got labor disputes going on that they want me to read about in Lord only knows which damn contract, and then we get irate customers out front cussing and screaming ’cause their mail keeps going to the wrong address or they ain’t getting it until six o’clock, and today I even had to drive to Hyde Park to some rich white bitch’s house, ’cause her vicious-ass dog won’t let the carrier open the mailbox ’cause he pepper-sprayed the dog a long time ago and now it won’t even let him come close to the fucking box, so I had to go out and tell the woman to keep her dog in the house or she gon’ have to come to the post office to get her goddamn mail, and the whole time the dog is licking my hand. I don’t need to be doing this kinda shit. I got a brain, and I ain’t using it! I’m a watchdog. That’s what I am. A fucking guard dog. And you wanna know what I’m gon’ do without you, Al? I’m taking my black ass back to school, that’s what I’ma do.”

“School?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Wait, you ain’t quitting your job, I know.”

“I am. I’m getting my 401(k) money.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Charlotte. That’s our retirement money.”

“Our?”

“Yours, ours, it’s the same thing.”

“No, it ain’t the same thing Al. My name is on that 401(k), not ‘Albert Toussaint,’ got it?”

“All right, all right. You thinking about going to a real college?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. All I know is I’m tired of getting up at four o’clock in the morning and at the end of the day don’t feel like I’ve done nothing nobody even really gives a shit about. I wanna do something for me. Something that makes me feel good.”

“I ain’t never tried to stop you from doing that, Charlotte.”

“I didn’t say you did, did I?”

He takes a few steps toward the bottom step. “Don’t come up here, Al. I mean it.”

“What you wanna do to make yourself feel good, Charlotte? Tell me.”

“I don’t know right now. All I do know is, whatever it is, I wanna do it at home.”