His own address. But he was standing at 147 Potter’s Lane. He had lived there for forty-two years. And he had never, in three decades of carrying mail, received a letter addressed to himself on his own route.
Inside, the house was bigger than its exterior. Much bigger. The foyer alone was the size of a high school gymnasium, its walls lined not with portraits but with mail slots. Thousands of them. Millions. Each one labeled with a name and a date. Arthur saw John F. Kennedy – 11/22/63 . Marie Curie – 7/4/34 . Genghis Khan – 8/18/1227 . Some slots were empty. Some were overflowing with envelopes of every color and material. Some glowed. Some wept.
He finished his route in a daze. Mrs. Gable’s arthritis medicine had arrived—he felt the cool relief radiating from the padded envelope and smiled. The Nguyen family received a letter from Vietnam, postmarked Ho Chi Minh City, and Arthur felt the warm bloom of reunion before they even opened it. Mr. Holloway got his electric bill, which felt like stale toast. ultra mailer
He drove home. He put the box on his kitchen table. He took out the photograph and looked at it for a long time.
The Ultra Mailer is not a machine. It is a contract. You have been selected because you are the only carrier in this postal district who has never opened a single piece of mail meant for someone else. Your integrity is your qualification. Your silence is your bond. His own address
A young woman, maybe thirty, with dark curly hair and his eyes. She was laughing, holding a baby wrapped in a blue blanket. Standing beside her was a man Arthur had never seen—kind-faced, with flour on his apron. Behind them was a house. Not 147 Potter’s Lane. A different house. A house with a wraparound porch and a garden and a tire swing.
Thank you for your service.
She was old. No—she was young. No—she was both at once, like a photograph double-exposed. Her hair was white and black and red and gold, depending on how Arthur’s eyes tried to focus. Her uniform was blue, like his, but the badge on her chest read SORTING .