They had to know I was curious! No one could stay even a fraction of the time
I had and not have their curiosity peaked!
At times it was maddening. One
morning I took a chance and called the mail man back just before he walked out
the front door.
“Bert,”
I said. I knew his name at
least. “How long have you been on this
route?”
He
paused, his hand on the door, and squinted his eyes thoughtfully. “About ten years.”
I
looked around and then whispered, “Do you know what they do here?”
His
hand dropped from the door and he took a few slow steps towards me. He leaned over the desk and I leaned in
towards him. He cleared his throat. “No.”
My
shoulders dropped. “Really? Not a clue?”
I said quietly, disappointment dripping from my voice.
He
cocked his head. “I do know that they
are really good at keeping quiet.” He
turned and started towards the door.
Just before he walked out he said to me, “I wouldn’t dig too deep there,
Shannon. They’ve never kept a
receptionist very long and I have an inkling it’s because her curiosity got the
best of her. Just be happy you have a
job.”
And
then he was gone, until the next day that is.
He gave a questioning look before leaving but I said nothing other than
hello and goodbye. I didn’t want him to
know that it was too late. I had become
a slave to my curiosity and it was going to eat me alive until I learned
something, anything, about where I worked.
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