Where's the Mailman

      The morning smelled of rain and petrichor, and the sun stretched far and wide, peaking its bright orange light through the clump of clouds. It reminded Dave of his childhood: walking, hiking, and biking through his neighborhood in the summer making his way up the Franklin Mountains. In the mountains, there were different trails to venture off through, and Dave hiked through them all. It was on one of his hikes that he knew that this was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. His uncle always said, “do what you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life” as if he was the creator of such a quote. Dave searched and pursued that dream, only to find that the only sort of job that offered a substantial amount of pay with a portion of his dream was delivering mail.

           While some people may find a mailman’s job not ideal, Dave found a liking to it. His shift started early in the morning, which he preferred and enjoyed. Dave grew up punctual, waking up at sunrise and going to bed when the basketball court lights across his house went out. He was a creature of habit and structure, which is why became a mailman. Mail was a necessity for people waiting to see what they owed on their bills, teenagers waiting to see if they got accepted their favorite university, and sadly people waiting for divorce papers to sign. Mail played a small role in everyone’s anxiety, stress, and hopefulness. Dave loved the idea of following a structured time schedule that required him to be prompt, and where he could release people of the stress they built up waiting for the mail. But what he loved most were the walks and hikes.

He delivered mail to the suburban Kern residents; a class of people that drove new model cars and SUV’s, bought organic food, vacationed every three months, and used the phrase “I’m not rich, my family is”. He wasn’t fond of the people (though he wouldn’t show that to them), but their neighborhood he adored. All around the perimeter were ponderosa pine trees, hillocks of grass that separated the houses, and the brightest rich gardens you’ve ever seen.

The sweet and musty smell of the morning filled Dave up with enthusiasm to start work right away. He arrived ten minutes before clocking in as usual, in case something unexpected happened. He didn’t like being late because a of traffic jam or some other misfortune that he had no control over. The last time Dave arrived five minutes before his scheduled work shift, he grew paranoid; checking minor things that appeared odd and out of place. He looked like a schizophrenic walking around the Kern neighborhood. Not today though. Today he’s on time, coffee mug full, mustache sharp as a knife, and his tennis shoes double looped.

He greets everyone in the office with a crest smile, saying “hello” and “good morning”, but always giving special attention to Veronica, the office secretary. Today, her hair is in a bun, which means she’s in no mood for chit chat, but Dave can’t help himself and tries to have a little back and forth flirtatious fun. She quickly shuts him down and tells him Jim, the supervisor, needs to speak with him pronto.

Dave gives her wink and tells her he’ll be back. He walks to Jimmy’s office thinking about promotion and pay raise.

It only took five years to get the recognition I deserve, Dave told himself.

Dave knocks on the door.

“Come in!”

Dave walks loose, confident, and relaxed, taking a seat when he isn’t asked to.

           Jim is on the phone, red, sweaty, and showcasing a huge, pulsating vain on his forehead, and looks at Dave confused.

“What the hell are you doing!?” he says pressing the phone against his shoulder. “Marco and Angie both decided to quite this morning, and you waltz in here with a stupid smile like cupcake from a 70’s porno auditioning for “The wife’s mistress.”

Confused and off guard, Dave didn’t know how to respond.

“What the hell are you dicking around for?” he said as the vein on his forehead flexed and branched off with more veins. “Go ask Victoria for Marco’s paper route and start delivering!”

Dave was out before Jim could complete another word.

He walked up to Victoria’s desk and snatched the papers from her file bin (not even giving her a look or a thought), grunting as he walked to his tiny motor vehicle.  

Whosever route he took didn’t matter, because both Marco and Angie had to cover the south side of EP. Better known as the ghetto or devils triangle, where every mailman’s worst fear happened on that block: dog chases, drive-by’s, gang fights, it was all unpredictable.

Dave grunted as he tried to avoid the potholes, and rammed up against the rocky, dismantled, disfigured curb. His eyes wandered cautiously as sweat fell down the side of his face, burning from aftershave. He grabbed a stack of papers, muttering under mustache and quickly moved towards the first house.

The mailbox appeared to have been hit with a blunt force, intact but in half. The lid moaned like a dying cat as he opened it with shaky hands and quickly dropped the mail inside. He sighed; relieved that the first drop wasn’t troublesome.

BARR! BARR! BARR! BARR! BARR! BARR! BARR!

Dave cried out, thinking his soul had left his body. He saw himself running out the gate, but his body stood stiff, anchored as if he were now part of the cement, ready to be turned into stone until the next fool moon. He turned and his eyes caught sight of the deathly teeth growling at him, forcefully lunging towards him, making no gains as the Pitbull was chained down.

Dave ran, tripped on a rock, and went over the gate, and fell hard on his ass.

“Ahhhhhh” he sighed. “Why is this happening to me? What did I do wrong?” He laid there for a few minutes cursing at the sky. To the people of devil’s triangle, is was a regular day to say the mailman scared shitless for his life; worse things happen that no one lives to talk about.

Dave went about the day, delivering mail in unusual ways that anybody that might have looked at him would think he was trying out for the Olympic track meets. He jumped, hopped, skipped, squatted, and duck walked to residents’ homes. Reaching the end of the day, he contemplated whether he enjoyed his job, not his career. There was no promotion, very little annual raise, and now the work seemed almost life threatening.

He arrived at a house on a corner, relieved and eager that it would be his last delivery, not just for the day, but for good. The house had a nice front lawn with a cobblestone walkway leading up to the front porch that put a smile on Dave’s face thinking how nice to end his last day and see such a beautiful home.

           Dave went up to the mailbox that was next to the screen door, and glanced quickly inside but couldn’t see anything. He opened the mailbox and accidentally dropped some mail. He bent down to get them and caught a whiff of something sweet, fresh, floral, and tender coming from the screen door.

           “Damn, that smells good.” Dave whispered to himself.

           “Of course, it does bubble butt, you got bought it.” A woman said from behind the screen door.

           Before Dave could look up, the woman kicked the door open, and pulled Dave up and inside the house, landing a mouthful of kisses from neck to stache. It was all fast and wet that Dave had no time to think except to react in accordance like most men, and meet her kiss for kiss, tongue to tongue, and lick for lick.  

           “Mmm baby I love your mustache; you should’ve grown it out before!” The woman moaned with eyes closed.

           Dave took his tongue out her ear and said, “Mmm, it’s Abe’s beard oil that keeps it thick and smelling fresh, baby.”

           Hearing Dave’s voice brought the woman to halt. Confused and scared, she slapped his hat off his head and screamed.

           “AHHHHHHHHHH!” Her hands went up like long tentacles slapping Dave further into the house. “OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD… AHHH… WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHERE’S MARIO?... OH MY GOD… AHHH…”

           A million questions at once came at Dave like a semi-automatic, with lethal hands and nails slapping his face.

           Dave tripped and fell to the floor: tired, sweaty, and irritated and snapped. “LADY! STOOOOOOP HITTING ME!! MARIO FUCKING QUITE THIS MORNING, LEAVING MY PRICK OF A BOSS NO CHOICE BUT TO HAVE ME DO MARIOS ROUTE!

           Aside from the heavy breathing coming from both parties, the house was quiet and unsettling. They starred at each other for a minute which felt like hours; the type of hours you spend in a sauna with someone you don’t know and are forced to sit there awkwardly until one of you gets up to leave.

           “Ma…Ma…Mario quit?” the woman asked with slight composure.

           “YES!” Dave yelled. He didn’t want to repeat himself and battle her nun chuck hands.

           “But we were supposed to…” she paused; her eyes widening. “Oh my god…” she wrapped her hands around her mouth with worry the way a kid does when they’ve done something they weren’t supposed to do.

           “Quick!” she said, kneeling down next to Dave.

 “NO! I TOLD YOU HE QUIT!” Dave screamed with both hands in the air.

“Oh, for god’s sakes, stop yelling, I’m not going to hit you!”

Dave stopped and opened his eyes.

“Look, my husband is going to come through that door any minute now and…”

“Fuck!”

Dave jolted up and made for the door but was detained by shear force of the woman’s strength and sharp nails that dug into his ribs.

“Oh, no you don’t.” The woman pinned Dave against the wall. “Listen, Mario and I were supposed to elope today. He said he would be here for support when I broke the news to my husband, but I guess he got cold feet, that asshole.”

“Look lady, I’m sorry that all this happened to you and I’m happy for you and Mario- well I guess not, but still I can’t get involved in whatever this is.”

“Oh yes you can!”

The woman moved closer, and Dave thought how he didn’t notice her figure before. She wore a silk cheetah bath robe which revealed C-cup breasts that was short for a woman of her height. He was distracted by her full lips that tasted like coconut and how she smelled flowery. Looking at her now, his eyes dilated and constricted his ears from whatever she was saying.

“Hey!” she said, slapping his face.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeeeahh” Dave said with perfunctory.

“Okay, so what’s your name?” she demanded.

“Dave” he said unsure of himself.

“Betty” she said and put out her hand, professionally.

A slave to his own pathetic urges, Dave didn’t know what he just agreed to or what was about to happen. He felt like a teenage boy who was unsupervised, and just signed a lifelong contract for the hottest vehicle because the dealer wore a sharp suit, was articulate, and symphonized for Dave’s inconsistency in bed.

“So, what am I going to say?” Dave asked.

“I just told you!” Betty yelled. “Okay, when he walks in and goes to the kitchen like his fat ass always does, I’ll be standing by the door, luggage on one hand, and your hand on the other.”

“Aaaand I don’t have to say anything?” Dave asked.

“No, just nod and agree with whatever I say. All you need to know is that I fell out of love for him and am deeply infatuated with you. He’s big but he’s a softy so don’t worry, he’ll probably just cry and plead for me to stay but won’t do nothing. He cried once when he accidentally killed the neighbors hamster, so you’ll be good.”

“Oh… okay… good to know.” He said with a sigh.

Betty went to her room to grab her things which weren’t much. She new if she was going to do this and start over, she didn’t want anything tying her back to her old life. She didn’t need her past to hang over her like a black cloud, putting her through guilt and regret because that’s the hook, the bait that always reels women back, leaving them to live for someone else’s dreams and not their own.

They waited in the bedroom; Dave scanned the room for the nearest exit and Betty checked and double checked her bag that she at least had the essentials.

“You’re a great kisser by the way.” Dave casually told Betty like they were college roommates experimenting for the first time. “Fuck, I don’t know why I said that out loud” Dave told himself.

Betty gave him a half smile, and that was it.

There was a slow and loud creak from down the hall and they both looked at each other thinking the same thing, “this is it.”

From down the hall they could hear the heavy creaky footsteps walking in their direction. The noise soon became quiet and far off in another direction. The house was split between a long hallway, where the first open door led to the kitchen. Betty peaked her head out her bedroom door and listened for the refrigerator to open.

“Okay, let’s go.” Betty whispered.

All efforts to be quiet when you weren’t trying to be made the nerves on the body, tighter, sweaty, and uncomfortable. Dave felt his stomach churn from the taco bell he ate for lunch. He was glad Betty walked in front of him, so she didn’t hear or smell his silent but deadly farts.

She stopped to see if her husband was still looking in the fridge. She prepared a whole feast and placed them in different Tupperware’s, so it took him longer to decide what to eat. Sure enough, his head was deep inside like he was delivering a baby. Betty and Dave made it to the front door and let out a slow and quiet breath.

Dave thought that this was his chance to split, high tail it out, and pursue another career. But something held him back, and he didn’t understand what it was. Many scenarios went through his head that told him to leave, but he couldn’t. Then he realized that he hadn’t let go of Betty’s hand, considering how sweaty it was. He glanced at her; longer than he intended, and replayed the kiss in is head. Something about the kiss gave Dave goosebumps.

“For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed kissing you.” Betty said.

Dave’s heart raced and he was about to pull her in and lay a big one on her when suddenly…

“Darnell!” Betty yelled, “can you come over for a second sweety.”

Dave saw a mountain turn from inside the kitchen, taking up all the space within the hall. Slowly, Dave’s mouth dropped, and tilted his head up with eyes fully wide. Darnell looked like a Chicago Bears linebacker. He had bags of potatoes for muscles on his arms, legs, chest, and neck.

“Darnell… sweety…you knew this day was coming.” Betty said softly.

Dave frantically shook his head, but kept his mouth shut like she told him.

“We haven’t been the same for months now. You don’t talk to me, you don’t hold me, hell we don’t even fuck like we used to. I’ve tried everything, but you don’t respond to me anymore. It’s like you’re not even hear and that makes sad and alone and I just want someone to see me.” Betty’s voice cracked and her eyes teared.

Darnell kept his eyes on her but didn’t say anything. Then he saw Dave and looked at him up and down with disappointment. He held a beer in his hand and chugged it.

“You’re leaving me for this chump?” Darnell said and chuckled. “Let’s see how much he really loves you.” Darnell put the beer down and unbuttoned his shirt.

Dave didn’t worry because Betty said he’s a softy, that he cried when he killed a hamster, that there was nothing to worry about. Until Betty dropped her suitcase and undressed Dave.

“Okay, now you go over there and show him how much you mean to me.” Betty gave Dave one last kiss and threw him down to face the mountain.