Chapter 25

 

The new addition walked into my office promptly at eight o’clock. He wasn’t all that tall, around five-foot six or so was my guess. What set him off were those blue eyes, gold curly hair, and tan skin. He looked like he was just out of high school with that slim, trim build of his. Well, the women around here were going to be sorry they took sick leave. There was even an earring in his left ear. It was his pretty-boy Caesar looks that grabbed you at first sight. He walked up to the desk, extended his hand, and said in a mellow, cultured voice, “Good morning, sir.”

I half stood. “Good morning. You must be Sam Goodnight. The Boss told me you were coming.”

His handshake was firm. Whatever he was, he probably wasn’t a Mama’s boy. To me, a firm handshake bespoke all kinds of things—trust, integrity—those kinds of things. Close up, I saw fine lines around his eyes. So, our golden boy was not a spring chicken. 

I motioned him to a seat. “I see by your records you’ve been with the Postal Service about two years.”

“Yes, sir.”

I stared at him intently, gauging how he was going to take the next statement. “Of course, you will have to start all over again to make regular. I’m afraid you will be a part time flex maybe as long as two more years. Think you can handle that?”

 He batted not an eye. “Yes, sir, I’ve always wanted to live in a smaller place. I can take a delay in promotion.”

This “kid” was a postmaster’s answer to prayer. I went on.

“What jobs can you do? I see from your records you came from a favorite station of mine in Anchorage.”

“I can handle anything, from pushing mail into slots to counting money at the end of the day.” He said this in a positive non-bragging way. 

I believed him. Had the Boss sent me a winner? “Well, I think we’ll start you out doing just that—pushing mail. One thing I can guarantee is forty hours. We’ve had people working as much as sixty-hour weeks and they’re tired. You do your job and you’ll be seen as a godsend.”

I went on to give him info about the local rules and sent him in to Ashley, who practically swooned. “Why, I declare, another member of the team,” she said, as she took him by the arm, which is a no-no in the post office world. 

I had to admit I felt a twinge of jealousy. Not about Ashley, of course. It was just that he had the looks that made a woman want to take him to her breast. Well, good luck to him. I headed back to my office to answer a ringing phone.

“Bronski.”

I took a deep breath. It was the Boss who didn’t believe me about Ashley. 

I said a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

“Well, has the new man arrived yet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, what do you think of him?” 

“He seems okay,” I answered.

“Are you okay, Bronski?”

I took another deep breath. I had to push the Boss, and I was very reluctant to. I had answered the phone on the first ring and had heard no click, to signify that Ashley was listening in. Hopefully, she was still out on the floor introducing Sam around. 

I decided to take a chance. “No, I’m not. I told my wife, Jeanette, about what Ashley tried to do. My marriage is still intact, but Ashley has to go. She’s into drugs.”

“Bronski, I’ve heard all that before. Can you prove it?”

“Not yet, but I will.”

“I don’t want to hear about this crap anymore, Bronski. You got that?”

I could feel the flush start up my face. My little voice murmured in the background, Hold it together, Bud. Your day will come.

By some miracle I did. I answered with a mild, “Yes, sir,” just as I heard a click in the background. 

“Talk to you later, Bronski.” 

And with that he hung up. I wiped the sweat off my brow. That was close. A few seconds sooner and Ashley would have heard more than she should have.

My hand was still resting on the phone when it rang again. I picked it up like it was a hot tamale. “Yes?”

“Is this the postmaster?”

“Yes.”

“This is Bill Lane. Have you found my package?”

That turned out to be the nice part of the conversation. I was given notice what the man thought about government workers that sat around on their behinds and drank coffee instead of pushing the mail. I assured the man we were still looking for his package and we would get it to him ASAP. He grumbled a little more and hung up.

I felt for the recorder in my shirt pocket, making sure it was running properly and rang for Ashley. She came dragging into my office like an errant schoolgirl. I found this interesting, considering she supposedly held all the cards.

She stood there, hand on the doorknob. 

I leaned back in my chair and gave her a big smile. I decided to goad her a little. “Ashley, you look like you lost your best friend. Didn’t you have anyone to sleep with last night?”

She gave me a tired look. Or was it the look you give a bug before you squash it? 

“What is it, Bronski? I don’t have time to play your games.”

I motioned her into the office and pointed at a chair. “Ashley, a Bill Lane called and wants to know where his package is. You told me you would handle it. Where is it?”

Her head tilted up and her eyes flashed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I sat back in my chair and stared down at my clasped hands, knuckles going white.

“You don’t recall telling me on the phone that you would handle it? You must remember Bill lane?”

She practically sneered as she held up the photograph. “No.”

“Then why don’t you go find it, Ashley.”

“I . . . .”

“That’s a direct order, Ashley.”

Her mouth turned down. The hate literally poured from her eyes. That she slammed the door on her way out bothered me not a bit. I was troubled, though, thinking she might know I had a tape recorder. Was it a guess on her part? I had to believe it was and that I was dealing with a smart, devious woman, who had many experiences dealing with human relationships, both personal and professional. Very well, I would have to take other more devious steps myself. I stood up, stretched, and walked out of the office onto the main floor. I noted with something akin to pleasure that the new kid, or should I say, “man person,” was already busy at a case. Ashley might be a she-devil, but she knew how to organize. I wandered over to his case. Letters and first class mail were flying into their respective slots. I wondered about mistakes and just how long he could keep up the speed. Martha looked slow in comparison.

“I see Ashley already has you at work.”

His hands slowed their ballet for a few seconds. “Yes, sir. She said we could do the proper intake later, that the needs of the service came first.”

I nodded and smiled. “Yes, of course.” I moved on.

The room was quiet as a tomb except for the mail slapping the sides of the slots. I wondered what the troops were thinking. I hoped mightily they weren’t thinking mutinous thoughts. I came to Martha’s case and murmured, “Well, did you see the new man?”

She gave me what had become a trademark of hers—a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” she murmured back. She gave me another look. “We need to talk—in private.”

Her eyes moved from left to right, obviously looking for some unseen enemy. 

I raised my eyebrows. This was almost funny. “Now?” I whispered.

Her head nodded most emphatically.

I sighed and nodded back. “Let’s go to my office.”

I turned and left for my office with her close on my heels.

“Where are you two going?”

It was Ashley, the queen bee controller.

“To my office, is that okay?” I said, without stopping to even look in her direction.

There were snickers in the background. Maybe I had won a small point. But with someone like Ashley, small points don’t count in a war. Martha followed me into my office and I closed the door. I sat down at my desk and motioned Martha to take a chair.

“What’s this all about?” I asked.

Martha sat and let out a long breath. I guessed this was not going to be easy

“I need to turn in a grievance at step two.”

Now this did take me by surprise. “Whatever for?” I asked.

“For management doing too much union work, that’s what!”

There it was, an old bugaboo that’s haunted the Postal Service for years, especially in smaller offices. While a certain amount is allowed at times, the union gets upset if it continues in a regular fashion. Trying to keep a calm face, I asked, “Did you put in a step one?”

Martha grimaced. “Yes, and it was thrown back in my face with a laugh!”

I tried to keep from frowning. Ashley was going to bring the house down on us. 

“Okay, Martha. I’ll look into it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You better. Just who in hell does she think she is? If this keeps up, nothing will get done. I am telling you, the troops are angry at her high-handed ways. Can’t you make her stop?”

I looked directly into her eyes. 

“I said I’d look into it, Martha. I can’t promise any more than that. I think we better terminate this meeting!”

She got up from her chair and stormed out the door, closing it with a bang, mumbling about management being all alike. If only I could tell her the full story, but I couldn’t, of course. Now came the real fun. I wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation with the queen. With a heavy heart I picked up the phone, punched the numbers for the loudspeaker, and asked Ashley to come to the office. I sat back in my chair with folded hands and waited all of ten seconds before she came bursting through the door. She gave me a glare that would eat nails.

“Close the door, softly, would you, Ashley?”

To my surprise, she did just that, although I’m sure it took some control.

“All right, Bronski, what’s going on?” 

By now she had folded her arms across her chest and moved around to the front of my desk. I gestured to the chair.

“Sit.”

“No, I’d rather stand.”

I rolled my eyes and went on. “Ashley, I was just handed a step two grievance about you doing union work. Why wasn’t I informed about the problem in the first place? Now we’ll have to work twice as hard to smooth things over. Or is it that you just don’t care, since you’ll be long gone, one way or the other?”

The queen spoke. “Bronski, you still don’t know who’s in charge around here, do you? I’ll leave when I get good and ready to leave. You see, Bronski, I found out you’re a drunk and you have little credibility with the Boss.” She sneered. “Your pitiful efforts to discredit me are a laugh. The Boss told me to keep a close eye on you. That you could go on a binge at any time. As for that little grievance, just shove it in your desk. Dear sweet Martha will get tired after a while and move it on to step three and that will take months to resolve. Bronski, you could have been rich, but for some stupid reason you choose to be dumb.”

 She turned on her heel and left, the door banging its protest. I sat back in my chair, a little bit stunned. Had the Boss really told her that, or had she nosed around in Anchorage and found out about my drinking before coming down here? I refused to believe the Boss had told her to keep an eye on my potential drunk problems. After all these years . . .I shook my head, warding off those thoughts.