Too Much Information

‘Red beacon’

Bryan crunched carefully through the crisp snow his hot breath escaping his mouth then dancing around his face taunting him. He clutched the big red parcel tied with tight brown parcel string.
He’d wanted nothing more than to stay in bed this morning. His alarm had screamed at him to wake up and he stretched across the bed to hold Julie - then the usual realisation came that she wasn't there.
Dreams were crueler than death. They gave him back Julie then snatched her away again, over and over - the cancer only took her once. He had peeked through the curtain and shook his head at the falling snow. He would never entertain the notion of not going into work. People needed him.
He had such pride in being a postman, being part of an institution, a cog in British society. He wasn't the most exciting man, living the most exciting existence but he always saw his job as vital to people.
He saw the huge importance of how his little job played a bigger part in the grand scheme of things.
His original ambition was to be a policeman or fireman but he had neither the brains or the physique. He had applied to the postal service and been accepted.
He wore his uniform with dignity. Being a postman wasn't as exciting or brave as being a paramedic, fireman or a policeman, but it was just as important and the uniform was just as iconic.
The big red Royal Mail van was just as recognisable as an ambulance or fire engine. Synonymous with Britain. Britishness. The monarchy. Everyone trusted their postman.
“Any post for me?’’ Squawked Mrs Gibbs wobbling down her path like a penguin snow shovel in one hand.
“Not today Mrs Gibbs,” said Bryan cheerfully. “You still waiting for that million dollar cheque hey?
“Ohhh I wish,” chuckled Mrs Gibbs.
“Expect I’ll need a wheel barrow to deliver all those valentines cards come Thursday,’’ Bryan said with a wink.
“Ohhh your a sort,” cackled Mrs Gibbs. “One man's enough. Fifty years and once he ever got me one valentines day card. Said happy birthday on it. Pissed as a fart!’’
“She in at number 42? There’s no answer.’’
“Think she’s back on the….” Mrs Gibbs looked carefully from side to side. Then made a miming motion like she was drinking from a huge bottle of wine.
Bryan shook his head, “See you tomorrow Mrs Gibbs,”
“God willing my love.” Then she was back to her snow shovelling her tight grey perm bouncing up and down.
Bryan believed that being a postman held more responsibility than most jobs. He helped people pay their bills, delivered good news and bad. He made people smile on their birthdays with mounds of cards.
He delivered the isolated and elderly a christmas greeting that made them smile. He found time to chat to people who never had the chance to chat to anyone.
“Morning Eric,’’ said Bryan walking the sulky teenager from number thirteen who was too engrossed in the music blazing from his walkman. Kids and their gadgets!
When Bryan had become a postman ten years ago in 1986 he wouldn't have believed the machines and gadgets they had to work with now we're even possible. He reckoned they would all be replaced with machines one day!
“Morning Bryan,’’ said little Lucy. Well not so little anymore she had a nipper of her own. She tried juggling her little boy on her hip as he wriggled while trudging through the two inch snow.
‘’How’s the teething?’’
Lucy pulled up little Luke's lip to show him his first tooth and beaming proudly.
“He’ll be chasing the girls before we know it!’’
“Don't even joke,’’ said Lucy
“See you tomorrow!”
Bryan could see the big red box looming on the corner as he made his way towards his van. He always marvelled at the british icon.
He saw it as a big red beacon of knowledge. Bryan loved the way it stood stiff and upright always maintaining its air of britishness. Wars, snow, rain, the darkest British days in history and the brightest - the post box never flinched, never wavered, never crumbled.
He had always thought of the pillar box as a big red confessional box for paper. It had held so much information and secrets in their bowels over the years. They knew if you were rich or poor. In debt or well off. It knew if you were in good health or bad. It knew if your faithful or unfaithful. Bryan felt privileged to be the guarder of peoples confidences.
You might not know the man you see walking his dog, or the lady who runs the corner shop, or even your neighbours very well but all your secrets shared the same bed and traveled together in the same postal bag. Your mail new your name and it knew where you lived. The big red pillar box had had a big mouth but it never talked.
He returned the big parcel into the back of the van and got out his keys.
He scooped the mound of pink, red and white envelopes into his bag. Valentines day! What a load of rubbish! Him and his Julie never had time for all that rubbish.
One letter in particular stood out as it floated into the bag. He was sure he was seeing things at first. He plucked the letter out of the pile and held the card up, it was a red envelope, and it was addressed to his wife. He finished emptying the post box locked it up then got into his van.
He opened the letter gingerly to be confronted by a big red valentines card with two kissing bears on the front emblazoned in a love heart. How bizarre. He opened it carefully and a three page letter floated onto his lap.
He picked it up and started reading. The letter started by asking, why she had ended it that way? How much he loved her! ‘how he couldn't stop thinking about her since she had ended it a year ago. The man talked about the special places they met. How they’d told each other things they’d never told anyone. (Everything except what her husband did for a living) Did he even know she had a husband?
The man started describing the things she did for him in bed that still made him wild with excitement. How he had new job offer down south and he wanted her to join him. The things she did for him in bed that still made him wild with excitement!
Bryan couldn't read on anymore that was too much information. He crumpled the pages into his hand and held on to them tight.
He sat there his face bright red his mouth wide open just like the pillar box next to him. He unscrewed the letter and looked at the return address at the end of the letter. The letters started to blotch as tears dropped onto the paper.
Bryan turned the keys in the ignition and made his way through the snowy suburban streets towards town.
He sped recklessly along the roads running red lights ignoring speed limits. The big box in the back flew from one side to another.
He turned the corner his tyres screeching nearly ploughing into a huge removal van coming towards him. He swerved just in time mounting the pavement on the other side of the apartment block The one he was looking for.
They were new trendy apartments. Modern. Expensive. Everything he wasn't and couldn't afford.
He got out of the van and opened the back and got out what he needed. He marched across the door and looked at the numbers on the buzzer. He buzzed the correct number and waited for a response.
“Hellllllo,” echoed a man's voice from the speaker.
“Postman. Special delivery,” said Bryan as cheerfully as he could manage.
“Come up.”
“I couldn't use your lavatory,” said Bryan sounding desperate
“Sure.” Bryan heard the mechanical buzz of the door being released immediately without hesitation.
He started the long descent up the stairs and untied the parcel rope from the box he was carrying. Just like paramedics, policeman, and fireman, everyone trusted the postman!