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Back THE MAILMAN Save as PDF
Chapters (57)
  1. DEDICATION
  2. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
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His anger grew stronger after his trip to the phone company. Here, again, they had received a letter supposedly from him telling them to discontinue service, but when he asked them to reconnect his phone, they told him there would be a twenty-dollar charge and that the earliest phone service could be reinstated would be Thursday. He went up the office hierarchy, telling his tale to increasingly authoritarian men until he had reached the district manager, who told him, unequivocally, that service would be reinstituted only after he paid the charge and that the earliest possible hookup date would be Wednesday. He could, if he so desired, file a refund request explaining the particulars of his situation. The request would be sent to Mountain Bell headquarters and its merit judged there.

He angrily pulled out of the small parking lot and nearly backed into old Mrs. Buford, who honked her horn at him. She yelled something he could not understand through her closed window. He waved his apology.

Letters.

Who would send letters to the phone company and the water and power company asking them to discontinue his service?

No, not who? Why? He already knew who had sent the letters, or at least had a good idea who’d done it.

The mailman.

John Smith.

It was not logical, and he had no idea why the mailman would do such a thing, but there was no doubt in his mind that it had been he who’d sent the false messages. There was something about the almost perfect calligraphy of the forged signature that reminded him of the professional-caliber speaking voice of the mailman. There was fear mixed in with his anger, but anger definitely had the upper hand, and he drove directly to the post office, intending to voice his opinions, his suspicions, his accusations to Howard.

The parking lot was crowded, but a Jeep was pulling out just as he arrived, and Doug quickly drove into the spot. He picked up the envelopes from the seat next to him. They were still damp, the paper smooth and softly pliable against his fingers. He nodded politely to the old men seated on the bench outside the building, then pushed open the door.