“Yeah, well sometimes I get up and walk around, you know, just to have something to do. The other night, I was going out to the kitchen to get a drink of orange juice, and I notice as I pass by that his door’s open. I look in there and the bed’s made and he’s gone. That was around two or three in the morning.”

“Maybe he has a girlfriend,” Tritia suggested.

“Maybe.” Howard sounded doubtful.

“Have you ever seen him sleeping?” Doug asked.

“What kind of question is that?” Tritia frowned.

“Humor me.”

“No,” the postmaster said, speaking slowly, “come to think of it, I haven’t.”

“Ever seen his bed unmade?”

Howard shook his head. “But he does stay in his room on Sundays. Don’t even open the door. Just stays in there like he’s hibernatin’ or something. I think he sleeps then.”

“All day?”

Howard shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe not. Maybe he does something else. He always seems real tired on Monday morning.”

Doug felt the coldness wash over him. He didn’t know why he was pursuing this line of questioning or what he hoped to find out, but there was something about the mailman that bothered him in a way he could not explain. “Have you been getting many complaints about him?” he asked.

“None.”

Doug felt more than a twinge of disappointment. He had been half-hoping to hear that there was a ground swell of resentment against the new mailman, that either residual feelings for Ronda or a recognition of the mailman’s own obvious peculiarity had brought in a negative verdict from the public.

“As a matter of fact,” Howard continued, “people seem to be very happy with the job he’s doing. I can’t remember the office ever being so busy. People’re sending more letters, buying more stamps. I don’t rightly know what it is, but the people seem to be more satisfied than they were before.” His voice took on an edge of bitterness. “That’s all well and good, mind you, and I’m not complaining, but I can’t help thinking that this is like a judgment against Bob. I mean, no one’s said anything bad about him. In fact, it’s exactly the opposite. I hear nothing but praise and good things about him. But on a professional level, people seem to be happier with John.” He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was filled with quiet conviction. “Bob was a damn fine mail carrier. The best I’ve ever known or worked with, and I can’t help feeling that he’s being betrayed.”

Doug and Tritia were silent.