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Back THE MAILMAN Save as PDF
Chapters (57)
  1. DEDICATION
  2. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
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  57. 55

“Effects of the tranquilizer,” the doctor explained to Doug and Tritia. He turned toward Billy. “You’re not in any pain, are you?”

Billy shook his head.

“Good. Probably just the shock, then.” He smiled at Billy. “I’ll be wanting to do a few tests later, when you feel up to it. Right now, I’ll leave you alone with your mom and dad, okay?”

Billy nodded.

The doctor smiled at Doug and Tritia, gave a surreptitious thumbs-up sign, and left the room.

Left alone, the three of them were silent for a moment.

“Do you remember what happened?” Doug asked softly.

“Doug!” Tritia glared at him.

“Do you remember?”

“Leave him alone.”

Billy nodded silently, not able to look at his parents’ faces.

“Did he hurt you?” Doug asked.

Billy shook his head. “He couldn’t touch me,” he said. His voice was a cracked whispered croak. “He wanted to, but he couldn’t.”

Doug’s blood was racing. “What do you mean he couldn’t touch you?”

“He couldn’t touch me.”

“Why?”

Billy turned toward his father, then looked away, ashamed, embarrassed, unable to make eye contact. “I don’t know.”

“Think.”

“Doug,” Tritia said.

“He tried to give me mail,” Billy whispered. “He wanted me to read it and he got really angry when I didn’t. He said it was an… an invitation. I thought he was going to hit me, but it was like… like he couldn’t touch me. Like something was stopping him. He started yelling at me and calling me names and threatening me, but I wouldn’t take his invitation and he started going crazy, but he didn’t touch me.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Tritia said. “It’s no wonder you think—”

“Let him talk.” Doug nodded encouragingly at his son. “Go on.”

“That’s it.”

“He couldn’t touch you?”

Billy shook his head.

“What about the dress?”

Billy buried his face in the pillow. His voice was muffled. “I’m tired now,” he said. “Stop asking me questions.”

“What about the dress?”

“He wanted me to wear it, okay? He wanted me to put it on.”

Doug patted his son’s back. “Okay,” he said. “All right.” He stared at the headboard of the hospital bed and tried to recall whether or not he had ever seen the mailman touch anyone. He had not.

The reason the mailman could not be implicated in any of the murders, Doug realized, was because he had never performed any of them. Ronda and Bernie really had killed themselves, as had Irene. Stockley and Hobie had themselves been driven to murder. Unimaginable as it was, Giselle had actually raped and killed Ellen Ronda with the baseball bat.

John Smith’s only power was the mail.