Tune in every week to read about the adventures of Buck Buchanan,
fictional country mailman, delivering mail out of Starz, Texas. He takes his
job seriously and knows that customers count on him to deliver every piece of
mail entitled to them. He is all about customer service. With a willing ear and
a helping hand, Buck Buchanan goes the extra mile.
* * *
Jolene
Edwards and her group are out early this morning. Only one more week left of
summer and next Monday, half the kids in her entourage will be back in school.
Two Radio Flyer red wagons trailed up the road. Three small kids were in each
and several larger ones took turns pulling. Two cocker spaniels trotted in the
rear, their little trimmed tails wagging like bobble-heads on a rough road.
They had all been to the snow cone stand. I
didn’t know it opened at nine o’clock, but clearly it must since every one of
them had colored faces, colored tongues, and colored shirts. Even the dogs
looked as if they had shared in the treat. Today must also be swim day, as I
can’t imagine her getting all that color off them any other way. Jolene keeps
kids. She is the champ, in my opinion. They go everywhere in those little
wagons and when they aren’t snacking, they are singing. She also has them
picking up trash in the park, collecting cans for recycling, and entertaining
the old folks at the retirement center. One of the little Kosch twins can
already sing The Star Spangled Banner
and she is only five. Mostly I hear songs from the latest Disney movie whenever
they pass by and Jolene is singing just as loudly as all of them.
Jolene
is a survivor - breast cancer. After chemotherapy, surgery and another round of
chemotherapy, the two hundred and fifty pound woman lost a hundred pounds and
gained a respect for life that she didn’t have earlier. She also started
keeping kids and teaching them the same joy of living that she feels.
One
day they were all holding balloons as they walked down the road to an empty
field. I watched and was close enough to hear her praise Kimmy Johns for
deciding to give up her pacifier. Jolene tied the pacifier to one of the
balloons, bundled them all together and let Kimmy turn them loose. The little
girl was saying goodbye to a friend, but she was surrounded by even more
friends who clapped enthusiastically as the balloons floated in the sky.
Jolene
Edwards is a pleasure to be around, a woman who has a smile on her face, no
matter how dirty those kids are, and a contagious hearty laugh. Her husband
isn’t quite as outgoing. Her diet didn’t affect Bill for he still weighs a
hefty amount. Every time I see him, I vow to forego dessert for dinner and walk
an extra mile. He is one large man, but he still works for the Highway
Department and I pick up that hospital payment every month from their mailbox.
It’s been five years since Jolene’s treatment and they are still faithfully
paying their debt. Normally, I wouldn’t notice a customer’s outgoing mail, but
Jolene writes a large number on the back of the hospital payment envelope in
thick, black marker. I suspect it is the amount of payments she has left as the
number seems to be getting less.
Rarely
do I stop at the café for coffee when I deliver the mail, but today there isn’t
much in my tray on the front seat beside me. I am way ahead of schedule and
Jake’s car is parked in front of the small white building. I have a few
questions about the stock market, and since he is not only the county sheriff,
but also the local Dow guru, now seems like the perfect opportunity. As I
walked through the door, I knew something wasn’t right. Edna’s face was red and
a young woman I’ve never seen handed out menus.
“What’s
up?” I asked Jake as I sat down at the counter beside him, noting his starched
brown uniform was immaculate as usual.
“Brenda’s
at college orientation for a few days so she sent her cousin. It seems as if her
cousin has never been a waitress. Edna has to do it all and she’s not happy.”
Edna
was busy. She helped the new girl take orders from eight oil field workers
sitting at the back table, flitting around the table like a clucking hen. I
reached behind the counter, got a cup and poured myself some coffee. The milk
wasn’t in its usual spot so I went to the small refrigerator behind the bar,
saw the small container and poured the milk into my cup. There wasn’t much, but
just enough for me. It cooled the heat quickly and I drank nearly half of it in
one gulp. I do love coffee.
Then
I heard a baby in the back room. It started crying softly at first, but in a
minute cranked it up until Edna cursed loudly. “Go feed that baby, for heaven’s
sake!”
The
young girl hurried toward the counter, jerked open the refrigerator and
appeared upset. She looked around; saw the container by my coffee cup and tears
started pouring down her cheek.
Jake
and I looked at each other, not understanding any part of the situation, but
clearly, I was the cause of her distress. Edna was suddenly beside us. She
looked at the young girl, glanced at my coffee cup, shook her head and sighed
as if we were all idiots. “Gina, get that baby, take it home, feed it and both
of you take a nap. That little girl needs you worse than I do.”
Gina’s
tears were drying but amidst the low sobs, I heard the accusation as she glared
at me. “You drank my breast milk.”
I
felt my mouth drop open just as I heard Jake snort to keep from laughing. Edna patted
my back before ushering Gina and the car-seated infant out the door.
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