Chapter 26

 

I checked my watch. Noon, time to go feed the old bod. I grabbed my coat. I had to get out of the office before another catastrophe came down on me, like another customer complaining about parts. Before I ate, though, I stopped by the local drug store and bought another tape recorder. The war was not yet over and I intended to go down fighting. 

Coming out of the store, I checked to see if Ralph or his car was in sight. I was gratified to see he wasn’t there. Maybe Ashley hadn’t had time to get Ralph on my trail. I sincerely hoped not.

Lost in thought, I gave the Jeep its head and, wouldn’t you know, I ended up in the parking lot of the Eat More. Happenstance has always intrigued me. Why do we go to a certain place without obvious guidance? Who plants these notions in our head? Well, never mind, I was there. Upon entering, I made a quick check of the tables, which were mostly full. If I had seen Ralph or Wattle sitting at one, I do believe I would have turned tail and left. Since neither was there, I made for the table where the raven-haired woman sat munching slowly on a sandwich while she read a romance novel. I felt a momentary tug in my heart for her, as I might for a daughter or sister who might never know a real love. I wondered if a good plastic surgeon couldn’t fix her mouth.

“Ah . . .Emily,” I began.

A trace of a smile came to her face. “Ah . . .Mr. Bronski.”

“That’s Leo, to you.”

I decided not to go into my litany of Mr. Bronski taking too much time to say. Instead I sat down without being invited. She put her book away and regarded me with a smile, buckteeth and all. And I thought I could be just a tiny bit in love with her vulnerability.

“How goes it?” she said.

“Uh . . .so, so,” I answered, and in a lowered voice caught her up to date about my actions at the post office.

“I have been doing some checking about Ashley,” she said. “Her last station was in Miami. She was not well liked and was transferred under a cloud of suspicion.”

“Oh really?” I said. This was beginning to sound good.

“What kind of suspicion?”

Emily looked around and leaned forward. “Drugs.”

“Whom did you talk to?” I asked. 

“Hey, Mr. Postmaster, you want something to eat?”

I looked up to see the sweaty waitress standing there. She was one notch shy of being rude, but maybe if I worked in a too-warm place full of people, I’d be short-tempered too. So, keeping calm, I ordered a sandwich. I wondered if she reported to Wattle about me. Emily watched her walk back to the kitchen, before going on with her story.

“The Union steward in the Miami office.”

“Amazing!” I said. “You actually got to talk to the steward?” 

“Yes, she said her boss was out of the office. She said Ashley had tried to get her fired.”

The sandwich slammed down in front of me. “Anything else, Mr. Postman?”

I looked up and put on my biggest smile. “Yes, a coffee. And you can call me Leo.”

Her voice softened a little. 

“Sure thing, Leo.” Off she went.

“Do not trust her. I think she tells Wattle when she hears something she thinks might interest him.”

I looked back at Emily.

“It was nothing they could prove,” she said, “but the O.I.C. wanted her out and a deal was struck. The steward said the employees wanted to kill Ashley.”

“I’m not surprised,” I murmured. We went on making small talk. Before I left, I thanked Emily for the info. If I had my way, the noose was going to keep on getting tighter around Ashley’s pretty neck.

Emily daintily dabbed a crumb from the corner of her mouth and made ready to go. We said our goodbyes after agreeing on another date to meet, and off she went. Just in time too, as Ralph came sauntering in the door. 

I gave him a nod and wondered if he had spent half his lunch hour searching the town for me. The thought gave me a good feeling. He ordered his meal in a voice that I did not hear at the post office. At the post office he seemed mellow, almost wimpy, but not here. This voice and the way he carried himself were full of confidence. There was no doubt about it; this voice was the one I heard that night at the party, the one that said, “Is he out?”

I paid my bill and left. This time the waitress gave me a small smile, which I counted as a small victory for me. Her smile let me know again that if you treat a person with respect and dignity, you’ll most likely get back spades full of friendliness.

Ashley was not at the office when I got there, which made me angry, as my lunch hour was from noon to 1:00 o’clock and her lunch hour began after I got back. It was my rule that either she or I was to be in the building at all times. Especially around noon, when an irate customer might come banging on my door. 

Out on the main floor I meandered close to Martha’s case. Again, one of those happenstance things. 

Without missing a beat in her sorting, she asked, “Have you decided anything about that step two?”

I sighed; now wishing old happenstance had kept to itself. “No, not yet,” I replied, “but I will.”

“Uh huh” was her reply, and not a word more. Her letters seemed to hit the case a little harder. 

I wandered on, saying hello to Abby, who gave me her big smile. I loved that smile, because it had no deceit in it. It was what you saw. I slowly made my way back to the office, stopping one more time to chat with the new guy, Sam Goodnight, in the box section.

“How’s things going?” I asked.

“Okay,” he said. The envelopes kept on slapping their way into the various boxes. 

“Anything I can do to help you settle in your new apartment?”

I had heard he was taking an apartment not too far from Ashley’s house. What this meant, I had no idea. Probably nothing, I hoped. I did not want her to put a spell on this new kid. I wanted him to remain whole and in one piece. 

He stopped a second and gave me a smile. “Thanks, sir, but I am pretty much moved in.”

He went back to slapping the mail into its respective boxes. 

I turned and looked out onto the main floor. Seeing that everybody was in his or her place, I returned to my office. No more put-offs. I had to do paperwork. 

The only thing good about that day was that Ashley, for whatever reason, stayed away from work. I could hear a laugh now and then through my open doorway out on the main floor. The troops were enjoying a respite from Ashley’s autocratic rule. 

 

I went back to the B & B that evening, mystified as to Ashley’s whereabouts. Had she gone on a trip, or was she sitting in her house thinking up new ways to make my life miserable? 

Mrs. Mordant caught me at the door and asked if I would take the old man up to the bluff. I said I would and threw on a cap; it was a mite breezy out there. She had him all muffled up and ready to go. As I had many times before, I pushed him to the bluff’s top and then sat down beside him on the bench. The sky was clear, but the sun was almost down at 6:00 o’clock. The long summer days when the sun went down at almost midnight were over. Sadly, winter was coming.

“Blue.”

I slumped in my seat. Here we go again, I thought, same old word or two.

“Co . . .”

“Yeah, it won’t be long before it’s cold. You have that right, my friend.”

He shook his head and he too slumped further down in his wheelchair.

Obviously, I was off base again. Would I ever understand what he was trying to say? Shaking his head again, he dug out his binoculars and focused on what I guessed was a huge tanker making its way through the white caps. That was the good thing about this vantage point. You could see most of the bay. He put down the binoculars, satisfied, I guessed, that this great ship was in its proper place. With trembling hands he put them away in their leather case.

“Time to go, sir?”

He nodded. I turned him around and away we went back down the hill as fast as safely possible. I truly believe this little run was one of the reasons he got up in the morning, hoping I would give him this moment of excitement. Up to now, he had enjoyed it in silence, but now I heard a sort of “ho, ho” from him. I’m not sure who enjoyed it more, him or me.

I left him with his daughter and I went up the stairs to my room. Mrs. Mordant made me promise that I would come back down for a bowl of stew, which I gratefully accepted. It was not quite family for me, but it helped, and I wondered about Jeanette. Did she sit there evening after evening, alone with her stew? I hoped not. I hoped the people in the village would invite her out from time to time.

Later that night I asked her about her evening meals, and she said about half of them were spent in solitude. She could have had more meals with her sister, but she felt it would have been imposing on Jean since she was keeping house with the village constable. I told her about Emily saying Ashley was involved in drugs in Miami and that her boss down there had gotten rid of her. Both of us remarked on how Alaska seemed to be used at times as a dumping ground for incompetent people. Ashley was not incompetent; she was just plain bad.

We said our goodbyes and hung up, with my feelings in a much more positive mood. Somehow, I was going to whip Ashley. Truth always makes a good whip and that’s what I would use.