Country Mailman

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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.

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Gus Richardson, the postmaster, hung up the phone and cleared his throat. The conversation had not been long and since he only said a few words into the receiver, I didn't have any idea who the caller was. I kept on sorting the mail at my case, but knew Gus wanted to tell me something. The man took awhile to get his words out, but a throat clearing sound always prefaced them.

"That was Jenner at the mortuary. A body from out-of-state is missing."

I raised my eyebrow, but continued sorting. This had something to do with me or Gus wouldn't have bothered starting the explanation. He is a man of few words.

"The driver from a New Mexico mortuary brought a customer over, but when he opened the back door, the body was gone. He lost it somewhere between here and the state line. "

I still flipped envelopes into the slots, waiting for how this odd situation affected me.

"Apparently the driver got lost and went over some rough, dirt roads. He thinks the doors might have come open. Jenner wonders if you'll keep an eye out."

I nodded as if spotting an errant corpse was an everyday occurrence and kept on sorting. Finally, I couldn't keep it in and started laughing. But I laughed alone as Gus didn't even look up from the computer screen. He rarely saw the humor in anything.

The November day was cool, low seventies, and I rode with both windows down to enjoy the weather. It is a good day for a body to be missing, if there is such a day. The cotton gin ran at full strength and cotton dust settled everywhere. Cotton module trucks traveled the roads continually and we avoided each other courteously as they went back and forth from fields, depositing their loads on the gin yard.

Harvest time is a busy time. The gin runs twenty-four hours, only stopping for repairs. This year promises to be a boom year for cotton and that means lots of traffic on my normally untraveled dirt roads. Rain has been scarce in the last two months, causing scrub-board texture to form in the ruts, making my tires bounce when I go too fast. In some places, I have to slow to a crawl and I noticed the large trucks do as well.

When I saw the glimpse of white in the ditch, I immediately thought of Jenner and reached for my cell phone. Driving closer I saw it was just one of the tarps that fit on top of the cotton modules. It must have fallen off a pickup or blown off a module. Half a mile past, I braked to a stop. What if the tarp had fallen onto the body?

All kinds of big ideas were going through my head and had been all morning, concerning the lost corpse. And they were big enough that I turned around, went back and saw that indeed, the tarp was just a tarp. I tossed it in the back to drop off at the gin and continued on the route. On Farm Road 1870, I saw the dull-colored shape beside the road and reached again for my cell phone to call the funeral home. As I drove closer, I put the phone back in my pocket and rolled up the window to keep the flies out of the car. Someone had hit a feral hog during the past evening or night, probably one of the module trucks.

On County Road 3890, half a mile from the big curve when I saw the brown form in the ditch, I left my phone in my pocket. It was only an abandoned sofa that I had noticed earlier in the week. The miles passed and I was aware of every shape and object lying near the ditches along the roads. I had never noticed the stack of rocks alongside James Larkey's section that appeared to have once been a fireplace in a house - probably the old home place. And I never noticed the two crosses surrounded by a low metal fence on Adam Howard's place. Brown vines were entwined in the wire and dead weeds hid most of the area from my view.

I stopped when I saw the bull standing in the middle of the road. This wasn't free range and fences were erected to keep livestock off the roads. The animal didn't move. He either belonged on the Hudson Ranch or the Lazy B, but there was only an ear tag and I wasn't about to get close enough to see.

This time I dialed the sheriff's office. "Mandy, this is Buck. Tell Jake there's a bull loose on County Road 3890, five miles east of the big curve. I don't know who he belongs to." I nodded when she repeated the information back and then hesitated before asking. "Have they found the lost body yet?"

Again I nodded before putting the phone in my pocket. Still no body, but the story made more sense. The driver had not been wearing his hearing aids and wouldn't have heard if the body fell out of the vehicle. Still, the situation was odd. Why would the door suddenly fly open? But then I thought of the back glass in my car. Occasionally, when I go over a bump in the road, it flys open. The catch is stubborn and full of dirt.

 I honked the horn repeatedly until the large animal ambled into the ditch, leaving me to continue on the route. When I reached the Jones house, I was nearly finished with the mail run and still no sign of a body. The poor fellow. To hear about a missing corpse is amusing, but the family wouldn't think it so funny when they learned about it. I pitied Jenner having to relay the information.

Then I spotted it. Half a mile up the road, a white rectangle lay in the ditch. Pressing the accelerator firmer than usual, I reached it quickly. Drat! Just a piece of cardboard from a freezer box flattened and sun bleached. I paused for a moment, got out and lifted the edge with my boot just to be sure nothing was underneath. Just as quickly, I jerked my foot away and stepped backwards, hurrying to get back inside the car. The cardboard moved and I waited and watched. After a full minute, a porcupine waddled from underneath the cover and headed down the ditch.

One more mile and I'd be on pavement the rest of the way into Starz - little chance I'd see a body. I still kept my eyes peeled, but nothing alongside the road screamed errant corpse and when I walked into the Post Office, even Gus looked up expectantly at me. I shook my head, deposited my outgoing mail into the tub and signed out on the sheet. Neither of us said a word - there wasn't a reason.

I paused at the corner, still not able to give up the thought of a body out there somewhere. I turned toward the funeral home. Jenner might need help. As I walked into his office, he talked on the phone and motioned me to sit in one of the leather chairs opposite his desk. His tone was serious but I could tell that he wanted to laugh. He kept contorting his face to keep from it. Finally, he hung up, began laughing and had to pull out his handkerchief to wipe the tears from his eyes. I patiently waited because I suspected the call had something to do with the body. Jenner would have been a bit more worried if not.

"This morning the driver stopped at that rest area near Muleshoe and went inside to the bathroom. A group of high school boys saw the gurney and thought it would be a great joke to take the body. The car wasn't locked, they took it and after the driver left, they propped the...corpse in one of the stalls. The caretaker nearly had a heart attack when he went in to clean the place and found it."

"And the boys?"

"One of them felt guilty and called the local sheriff to tell him where it was. Seems as if his grandfather passed not too long ago. But the caretaker had already found it."

I smiled at the prank. "Brings back old times," I said.

He held up his hand. "Don't remind me." He pointed his finger at me with mock seriousness. "You swore."

I stood with the smile still on my lips. "Don't worry, Jenner. Your secret is still safe. I haven't even told Babe about that night you got the key from your father's keychain, took old Mr. Knight from his coffin, stood him up in front of the principal's bedroom window and made her faint. But I'm nearly certain your father knew you had something to do with it."

He answered the smile. "He didn't like old Mrs. Gunkle either."