Short story: The Mailboy
A short story I wrote based on the prompt:
Include the sentence “He wondered if it could be called a beach if there was no sand” and use the words “natural” and “plausible” at least once.
Enjoy. :)
There once was a lad who was the mailboy of a sprawling village in the mountains. The lad, Willy, prided himself in always having delivered every piece of mail on time without a single letter or package missing.
One day he was sorting mail into his carrying bag at the counter of his little house, a small wooden shack that doubled as the village’s post office. It was small and the roof leaked when it rained, but it was his home and that’s all that mattered.
Willy enjoyed his job. You could say he was a natural. He always looked forward to greeting the townspeople when he would deliver their mail from house to house. Sometimes they’d even be kind and offer him tea or a delicious snack. He smiled fondly at the thoughts, feeling he had the best job in the whole world.
Just then an elderly man with a gray mustache and a twinkle in his eye stepped in. His voice had a rough twang to it, but his demeanor was kind. “At it again, eh, Willy?” he said, stepping to the counter with a letter in his hand.
Willy stopped his sorting with a bright voice, “Mr. Mayor, good morning.” Seeing the letter he held was unmarked he asked, “Where to today?”
The elderly man, the mayor of the village, shook his head and handed the letter to Willy, “Nowhere except yourself. This letter’s for you.” He smiled at Willy’s startled expression. Willy hardly ever received mail himself.
The elderly man stood amused for a moment before prodding, “Well open it up. It’s your nomination for the person of the year award.”
Willy scanned the letter, looking at the official seal and reading it. His eyes widened, “I’ve…been nominated?”
The mayor nodded, “Overwhelmingly so.” He smiled proudly, “As you know, only the most dependable and trustworthy people are nominated. You’re coming on three years of service to our little village–you should be proud of yourself. We’ve never had a better mailboy. We know we can count on you and that’s certainly something all the folks of this village appreciate.”
Willy slowly folded the letter back up with care before looking up at the mayor, “Thank you.”
The mayor tipped his hat with a genuine smile, “Good day, Willy.”
After he left, Willy reopened the letter, tracing the gold seal with his finger. This really meant something. If he won, he’d be the person of the year. Not to mention that the award money would buy him a new house that didn’t leak.
Tucking the letter into his pocket he went around the counter to the drop bin. As usual, there were various letters and small packages that had been dropped off by the townspeople through the drawer in the side of the building. Something caught his eye, though. A strangely larger cardboard box with holes in it sat in the corner.
Marked on top of the box were the words, “Time sensitive: deliver by 8pm today.”
The delivery address was simply “Elen’s Beach.”
Willy placed the packages into his carry bag and slung in over his shoulder to begin his route. As he delivered mail along his route, he was curious as to the package with holes in it.
Finally, he arrived at the only address called a “beach” that he knew of. He wondered if it could be called a beach if there was no sand, but maybe the name was just symbolic. He scanned the grass of the place looking for clues as to where the package was to be dropped off, before realizing that this wasn’t “Ellen’s Beach.” In fact, he didn’t think there was an address called “Ellen’s Beach” at all.
“Perhaps it’s a new address,” he mused, his smile brightening at the thought of it being a plausible reason. He walked over to the nearest neighbor. Unfortunately, the neighbor hadn’t heard of the address either. “There’s no ‘Ellen’s Beach’ around here,” the elderly woman assured.
Willy walked through the streets asking each person that he met if they knew the address. No one did.
He walked through the streets rather aimlessly as the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the grass that covered the ground beside the street.
Near dusk it began to rain and Willy’s tears began to fall. He sat at the edge of the road as the rain drenched him. But he didn’t really care. It was nearly 8pm and he hadn’t delivered the package.
“It’s just how it would be, to fail to deliver a package on the same day I received the nomination,” he muttered.
As he sat there, however, he failed to notice that the rain had caused the cardboard box to soften and out came a little white mouse.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement behind the box and reached to grab the box, only to send the white mouse scurrying off down the street, having secured its liberty from the cardboard box.
He chased the mouse through the streets, here, there and seemingly everywhere. Finally, he cornered the mouse and caught it, going home sad and completely soaked.
He had failed to deliver the package in time, and, well, at all. Worse, the rest of the mail was a soggy mess.
That night he went to bed troubled, the sound of the mouse safety contained in a plastic box beside his desk not comforting him in the least.
The next morning he didn’t want to get out of bed. He’d failed. How would he face the day and the townspeople? They had counted on him–even nominated him for the person of the year–and now he had failed.
After some moments in anguish he dressed and went to the mayor’s office holding his nomination letter.
With tears in his eyes he flopped the nomination letter on the mayor’s desk and said, “I don’t deserve this, I failed to deliver a package and most of the mail from yesterday is a soggy mess.”
The mayor smiled kindly, “You’re right, Willy, you don’t deserve that nomination.” He turned to grab the person of the year award plaque from the wall behind him and placed it into Willy’s hands. “You deserve this.”
Willy could hardly believe his eyes or ears and he trembled confused.
The mayor simply nodded before speaking proudly, “The package was a test of honesty. A test whether you would lie about failing to deliver the package or say you did when you couldn’t have. There is no ‘Elen’s Beach’ address. You never could have delivered it.”
Willy’s eyes widened. It all made sense now.
The mayor continued, “Being dependable isn’t just about doing what you say you’re going to do, but being honest about when you fail.”
He gently led Willy outside where, to Willy’s surprise, all the townspeople were gathered around.
The mayor held up the plaque, declaring Willy the person of the year. Everyone clapped and thanked Willy for his service as the village mailboy.
For years afterward, Willy continued as the village mailboy.
Oh, and he did get a new house.
THE END