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On this particular day I had no school, in observance of Queen Victoria's birthday, At about 3:301 saw an elderly man briskly walking down the street stopping at each house to deliver mail, a mailman! He came towards me smiling, his bright blue eyes twinkling and friendly. I smiled back and he extended his hand saying, "Hello there, sonny. What's your name?" I replied quietly, being a shy boy, "Jacob, sir. Jacob Kelley," He smiled brilliantly, shoved some bills into our mailbox, tousled my hair and walked off. I stayed outside that afternoon hoping for that wonderful mailman to come back again. He didnt come back that afternoon, but the following day at 3 pan. I found myself walking home from school chatting with him. 'Tm new at this job," he said to me. "I just moved here from New York City because of my lungs being weak from the polluted air. My doctor said that being outside in fresh air would be the best thing for me, so Ijumped at the job to be a mailman." It was the let of May, 1956, a very beautiful spring afternoon, I was outside, bored as usual with nothing to do, having no friends or siblings to play with. I lived alone with my mother, who spent her days working at a cosmetics counter in the B.I.A., a local department store. Being six, I was in Grade 1 with 21 other children. I had many friends, but none of them lived in my area of Brandon, Manitoba. Jacob Kelley, professional writer and father of two, sat at his desk staring out the window seeking vainly for a subject to write about. His eyes focused on his son and a man talking. He looked closer to see that the man was a mailman. All of a sudden emotions swirled around him. Quickly he turned to his computer and started typing about . . by Sharon Booth Regina Street at Columbia Street Waterloo (Next to McDonald's) 886-7001 'i5j,',t",:' HOURS: Mon-Wed 7:30-6; Thurs. and Fn'. 7:30-9; Sai, 7:30-6 Baking Supplies Nuts Spices Visit our New Hamburg Store! gar-ME [ T _ a: The Mailman Ch jiii"','s"""'i",ili, St Comgare Our Bulk Prices Short _WINNERSC|RClE Nut & Baking Supply Chiii'iiikle [ r'i7c,UriT:i'y8ifaytf wEtiifrey,""',ey/ie' 'o", f 'iFiiiiiitiiii5t? al' i't'i'il,i':iti4i,,i,"e: _ 'rtf2tr8',lgz: P2ttE_ it?shriiifs'i; 'r','";' _i,i,i:',-i,ii_,)/f-,li-" '-",,'i_':"-v? fill i'ii; _ ',_'c_,_'r1-,"i',i;i:) 'r,-'" ', $493.; ',.,r,i"i, T t,ttiic,',,i, 1t,,t,ttu" "One day when Charlie Brown and I were in the forest a huge wolf lunged at us from behind a tree. This situation had occurred before, but there had been a loaded rifle in my hand. Now I was totally unarmed apart from a small carving knife." The mailman was talking so softly that I had to strain my ears and lean close tn hear him. "Charlie Brown was a powerful dog but he was no match for the wolf. However, he put up a good fight to stay alive. I tried to hold him back but he was so angry at the The maiiman stouiij,urairiiiri'hroat Egg beck.oned for me to follow. "Charlie Brown came to us in the winter one year, he was just about as skinny as a skeleton I carried him into the house and gave him some warm milk to lap up. Over a few weeks Charlie Brown fully recovered and devoted himself to me, We played together, hunted together and even did chores together. We were ipsepiytable." I nodded, though I wagn't sure that I understood what he was talking about. "Then it will be easy for you to understand the way Charlie Brown and I felt about each other." "When I was a boy my family and I lived in the highlands of Scotland We lived on a farm isolated from everyone else. There we had chickens, horses, cats and my dog, The mailman said, "my dog," with such affection and sorrow in his voice that I eouldnt help but ask him what the dog was. "Charlie," he replied quietly "Charlie Brown.” The mailman and I sat down on a park bench to rest for a few minutes and started talking about his dog, Charlie Brown. Fe "Jaeob," said the mailman, "have you ever loved something so much that you w.ould give your life to see it live?" Day after day I would walk home with him. I would tell him about my day at school and he would tell me stories about when he was a boy, when he lived in Scotland. ___ _v__. V...,.--. - noun-- vans.osrl. IV, lnl c ' - mundane ttOuR-ttto-ta-, WC ll "'r-3-rciDEIRr'tx-ci-r-t W h--------------- III-IIIIIIIIIIIJ h"v"""""""-r=r'ie-%='-_-,r-/ nstt"heeerynuaakiae%ttsa, 'eitrottlgeta-ulWhmer'FTuiEt '.1erte.ttercfAftt! mmqu.uomm.w t.etsePert-r.va-ratatriiorxrst, The Waterloo Chronicle presents the winning entries in our 2nd Annual Short Story Contest _itiilt l 1liil"i,_,w)1 GREAT SAVINGS AT BURGER KING! Once he said to me, "Jacob, have you made a decision on the profession you would like to enroll in when you're older?" I loved it when he spoke to me as though talking to an adult. "No," I replied slowly, choosing my words carefully. "But I have leafed through some I was 10 at the time when I realized I loved him like the father I never had. So I slowed down and ignored my friends for the period of time each day that I spent with him, I found myself eagerly waiting Mondays so that I could talk with him about the things that had happened over the weekend. The mailman was trembling as he re-lived that horrifie scene. "9uickly," he continued. "I picked up Charlie Brown's battered body and carried him back to the farm, but there was no hope for him. He died early the next morning. I sat by him until his last whimper faded away. He stretched out and collapsed into forever sleep." The mailman turned away from me and blew his nose emotionally, We walked in silence until we came to my house. He bent down to me and said, "Son, I'm not quite sure why I told you this story. Interpret it the way you think best, and 'maybe sometime in the future you will understand me better" He turned away, but I heard him mutter under his breath, Trn just a lonely old man talking to my six-year-old best friend and trying to restore youth in my wrinkled soul." He shook his head sadly and walked away. As I grest older I often became impatient with the mailman, seeing that he was getting slower and no younger. wolf that there was no stopping him. They bared their teeth and leaped at each other. Fur, flesh and blood were flying everywhere. I threw my knife as hard as I could into the wolf's chest and soon enough the wolf ran away whimpering at the sight of death." 1rtltlr'_illrtll In Waterloo WATERLOO CHRONOCLE. WEDNESDAY, AUGUST EXPIRV DATE: SEPT. IO, 1991 rum-HI own: mmxmmvmow [3333 'asrroaxmanaraee-rae, atittkattheeiarteiemdrt-d BaismDmaroteeunemrrFTtEE.t . 'has-ttit-ont-or-tm NN vabdtti1unrottwoloeasttvaueitatse tPftfePPPrtmmtvtsdorttraear6ximst Sharon is a student at the National Ballet School; previously she attended Keatsway and Centennial Public Schools in Waterloo. Her hobbies include reading, dancing, music and public speaking. Sharon enjoys travelling and has participated in the Children's International Summer Village organization internationally. Now 30 years later as I look back upon the ending of our fraendshop. l realize the source of my sorrow was that of which the wolf whimpered at. the sight of death The mailman had left his coughmg and Illness behind as he was lifted to heaven I wonder, as I watch my son and the mailman talking, If they mll ever be able to share the tunes that I shared wrth the mailman. Although our fnpndsth “as more than I could ask for, the only thong I regret is that I never knes has name Perhaps this IS not important though, because to me he was, and always wall be, the mailman. As the years passed by I became more and more concerned w1th the state of health that the mailman was m At 74 he was arthnm and constantly coughing. yet. he continued hos Job and sad he would, until the day he died One cold January day when l was 12 the mailman wasn't outside wamng for me after school I was not alarmed for he was often 20 to 30 mmutes late I muted and wasted, pacmg so as not to freeze, I was clutching my frost-bmm hands under my sweater I searched through the bhzzard for my Mend for almost five hours, but, when " became very dark and I was cold. hungry and scared, I ran home sobbing to my mother professional pamphlets and I do have an idea on the different fields I would like to go into" 'Oh?" he said, "And what aught those different fields be?' 1Writing, ofcourse," I smd "Yes," he answered. "I have always known you had a fascmatlon for the written word" "Yes," I agreed with hun, pleased that he had remembered. 'aleo. medmne Interests me greatly' The mailman thought It was wonderful for me to have ideas about my future. yet. he urged me to keep an open mmd for other Jobs that may be offered m y way 'BaconDouble GRADE FIVE TC) GRADE EIGHT 20, 1991 . PAGE 5