Radio romances (July-Dec 1945)

The assistant postmaster opened his eyes widely, pretended he was shocked or surprised. He said: "Well, whataya know. Tsk, tsk. Finding a letter in a post office." , "Nuts!" I replied. "It just surprised me, thats all. You just don't expect to see one for yourself." "Okay, Bob. Okay." He came over and put a hand on my shoulder. „ "Mr. Berg told me you'll go out on a route Monday, he said. "We're terribly short of carriers. This will be a good chance for you, son. It usually takes a fellow quite a while before he's given a route, but the war makes a difference in everything, doesn't it?" I nodded, but I didn't want to get thinking about the draft again. Being a 4-F was not pleasant to think about. I changed the subject. "How many miles does the average letter carrier walk each day, Mr. Bailer?" "Well, it varies. It can be anywhere from four to ten We used to use bikes, remember? But no more. Carriers in a big city like New York or Chicago don't walk much if their routes are in office buildings. • A man will have just one building to handle. He rides the elevators. Hey! Hey! Watch out, Bob. You almost put that letter in the wrong sack!" I was amazed that his eye had caught my error, but when he told me he had been watching mail sorting for eighteen years I understood his sharpness. I put the letter in its proper place and listened to the veteran mailman tell about his experiences making deliveries in all kinds of weather, "You get to know people, Bob. You get to know just about everything that goes on in your route. You have to listen to all kinds of belly aches, and you take an interest in the doings of your people; you get to be sort of a Mr. Anthony for everybody. If you're the type who is curious, you get your ears full of gossip. Wait and see, Bob. You'll get a kick out of it." I expected it would be like that, and that's the way it was when I was finally assigned to a route. I was the brand new postman, and it was exhilarating to realize I was suddenly an important personage in that square of blocks I covered twice a day. Take Maple Street, for instance. First house: Mrs. Willis, three kids, husband owned the grocery store; she liked to talk about her neighbors and she pumped me all the time, tried to find out what mail came for them. Second house: Mrs. Kelly, no kids, three cats, she ran out to meet me, took the mail with a silly grin on her face and ran back into her house again like Old Mother Hubbard. Third house: Roger Thorne, the town politician, wrote to his Congressman all the time and got letters that were franked, not stamped, in return. He was always ready to give you his version of town, county or national affairs. TPHEN I had other characters to deal with; people ■*• like the Jenkins family who fought like tigers with each other, the Caldwells who subscribed to those astrology magazines (Mrs. Caldwell read my horoscope and told me to watch out for August 12th) , the Tysons who lived like hermits and only showed their faces after I left the mail in the box on their fence. It was interesting to come down a street like Reynolds Avenue because that's where the foreign element lived. Nice people and friendly but inclined to be noisy. Mr. Pelligrino always yelled out the front door in Italian and I never knew what he was saying. One day he came out with a glass' of red wine for me and I had to drink it because he finally made me understand it was his birthday. I didn't like red wine and this was very bitter; but he was delighted to share it with me. He wanted to give me mor.e. And there were other experiences I had which were amusing or unusual. Mrs. Bricker over on Teller Avenue made quite a fuss over me the first day I came around with the mail. She remembered me from the lumber company and she told me about the trouble she had with the screen door on her back porch. I took off my coat and went to work on it, and in twenty minutes it was working beautifully. She gave me a mvstery-a real chiller-book to read as a reward. In a month or two I got to know just about every Wv on the route, and I discovered I did have a body on tne ro , ^ J was interested nThe^oings"on of everybody, and I enjoyed talking o my Cope'' Maybe some of them took advantage of me sometimes. Like the lady on Spruce Place who'd a k meTo watch her baby while sjie ran over to a neighbor's house to telephone I offered to hold the oaby on my lap, and I regretted that. I was glad when the lady came back. But there was one street that always held my interest more than the others. I couldn't forget the street because of that dog. Every day Id come along the little terrier would bound out and raise an uproar; and I don't doubt it was my uniform that excited him. Thev say a uniform gets some dogs excited. This little mutt just about went crazy when he d see me. He didn't look vicious, just nasty; and when he d snap at mv feet I'd pretend to pick up a stone and he d run. I thought he might get used to me after a while but he didn't and one day we had an incident that made it a red-letter day, if I can use a mailman's pun I stopped in front of the house, put the letter in the box on the fence and was just getting away from the place when that black and white canine came charging at me from the front porch. I wheeled around to protect myself but he grabbed my trousers with his teeth and the result was the loudest rip you ever heard. I swore at my enemy, swung my foot at him, slipped, and landed in the road in a sitting position. My mail bag emptied right in front of me. My folks always said I have an easy-going disposition. They should have heard me that morning. I was out of my head with anger and I guess you could have heard my shouts down to City Hall. The dog ran off and I heard a door open in the house as I began picking up the mail from the road. Then there was somebody beside me and I saw her. So help me, I forgot about the dog. He went right out of my mind. ani„, t?rr'?le' she was saying. "Tiny never bothers DM he Wyouf'1Ced h°W ^ ^ f0r y°U 6Very day' isWo'u? dog?"" l SaM' "^ y°U WS d°g? J mean ,„JV^at.umadet me fluster at a moment like that? I was in the right. The dog was the aggressor. No reason tor me to get tongue-tied. But if you saw this girl . . Ked-gold hair like Greer Garson, complexion like a peach sundae; and the kind of a house dress I always put on a girl when I dreamed about the ONE who would be her. If that doesn't make sense, chalk it up to the steamroller I mentioned earlier. "^/"E STOOD facing each other for no more than one minute, but that minute had all the potency of a tidal wave; I hemmed for a second, then hawed and forgot what I started to say. She was smiling a bit but she didn't look right at me; and I rememDered that later when I was five blocks away. "Shy, Bob," I said to myself, talking out loud. "She's shy Gosh, it's getting warm. Did you notice those sandals she wore? Did you ever see such hair' The dog has a reason to bark, I guess. He protects her from the world, and he doesn't like my looks. Better get these pants fixed. Right now." I turned into Mrs. Williams' house and ten minutes later that good lady had repaired the damage caused by Tiny's teeth. "Do you know some people named Welch over on Sunset Drive, Mrs. Williams?" No, she didn't know them. That day I asked five people if they knew the Welch family, hoping somebody would tell me about the wonderful girl No luck. But I knew I would find out all about her and her family, so I made it my business to start the next day. As I approached Sunset Drive I began sorting the letters for that street in my hands. There it was: The happiest Sunday in my life brought sunshine, enough breeze for my little boat — and Susan.