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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
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
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  18. 16
  19. 17
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  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
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  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55

Doug quickly opened the car door and got inside, feeling vulnerable, exposed, and slightly guilty, as if he had been caught watching someone undress. He wasn’t sure why the mailman’s gaze made him feel that way, but he didn’t want to stay here and analyze it. He started the car and backed up. The only exit from the Circle K lot was right next to the mailbox, and he hurriedly sped across the asphalt, hoping to pull immediately onto the road. No such luck. The highway was filled with cars and campers coming down from the lake, and he was forced to sit there and wait for an opening. He concentrated on the traffic, looking only to the left, but he could see out of the corner of his eye that the mailman was staring at him, still and unmoving. Then the line of traffic ended and he swung out onto the road. He could not resist the impulse and glanced out the passenger window as he drove by.

The mailman, smiling, waved at him.

4

Billy was on the porch when the mailman came by. There was no warning as there had been with Mr. Ronda, no loud motor or squealing brakes. There was only the quiet purr of a new engine and the soft dry crunch of tires stopping on dirt. Billy put down his BB gun and glanced over at the new mailman, curious, but the windows of the red car were tinted, the interior dark, and all he could see was a thin white hand and the sleeve of a blue uniform reaching out from the driver’s window to put a stack of letters in the mailbox. There was something about the sight that bothered him, that didn’t sit right. In the darkness of the car he thought he could see a shock of red hair over a pale indistinct face. The mailman did not look friendly like Mr. Ronda. He looked somehow… inhuman.

Billy felt a slight chill pass through him, a distinctly physical sensation, though the temperature was already well into the eighties. The white hand waved to him—once, curtly—then the car was off, sailing smoothly and silently down the road.

He knew he should go out and get the mail, but for some reason he was afraid to. The mailbox and the road suddenly looked awfully far away from the safety of the house and the porch. What if, for some reason, the mailman decided to turn around and come back? His dad was in the bathroom at the back of the house and his mom was over at the Nelsons’. He would be stuck out there by himself, on his own.