Thursday Afternoon: Going Postal

“Hello, Magnolia and Moss! This is Martha!”

“Hey, Martha, this is Stephanie!” Stephanie was the mail carrier. “I need to bring the mail in today. I have some packages that need to be signed for.”

Ordinarily mail was left in a large box outside of the campsite that was compartmented inside; each compartment could be individually opened by a key holder. However, a duplicate master key was made, and George or Martha, but mostly Howard, would go outside the gate, and retrieve everyone’s mail, either to be collected by the resident at the Admin Office, or delivered by Howard, if he had time. Having residents go to the Admin Office also gave Martha and George an opportunity to inquire about issues, any maintenance concerns, or just a chance to say hello and catch up.

Martha remembered the time when Stephanie was first assigned to the route that included Magnolia and Moss, just a few years ago. This was before the time when the outside mail box was installed.

“I won’t see any naked people, will I?” she asked into the call box.

Martha chortled. “No, dear. Not a single one.”

“Oh!” replied Stephanie. Martha thought she heard some disappointment in Stephanie’s voice.

“The gate should be opening in a moment, Stephanie. Just come up to the office building. I’ll leave the door open!” Martha pushed the button, and Stephanie drove her mail truck up the path.

Thinking ahead, Martha picked up the walkie-talkie and clicked the ‘talk’ button. “Hey boys, heads up. Mail call!! Make sure you have your pants on.” She straightened her own long shirt down along her abdomen to her thighs.

Stephanie drove up and parked outside the Admin Office. She walked into the office, not knowing what to expect, but ready for anything.

She and Martha exchanged pleasantries. Stephanie asked a number of questions about the nature of the camp; whether it catered to tent-campers, RVs, and/or permanent structures; how the streets were laid out; and about the people. Martha had no problem answering any of her questions. It seemed, though, that Stephanie had something more to ask, but was hesitant in asking. After a long pause, Martha asked, “Is there anything more, dear?”

Looking around, Stephanie asked “So…are you ready for me to deliver the mail?” she inquired, still holding onto her over-sized mail pouch.

Martha was taken by surprise. Usually she took the mail. She said as much.

Stephanie looked upset. “Oh, I couldn’t do that. I’ve been entrusted by the US Postal Service to deliver the mail to the intended recipient. You know, ‘Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.’” She seemed quite determined, holding onto her mail pouch even tighter than before.

Martha was non-plussed. “Dear, you do know that this is a nudist campsite?”

Stephanie nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I was made aware of that several weeks ago, when we got our new route assignments rotation. Is that a restroom?” she asked, pointing to the unmarked door.

Martha could only nod, still perplexed as to where this was going.

Stephanie disappeared behind the door. A few short minutes later, George and Howard came in through the front door. Both were shirtless, but wore knee-length shorts and flip-flops.

George looked confused. “Where’s the new mail carrier?”

Martha pointed at the door. “In there! I’m not sure she understands…”

The restroom door opened, and out she stepped, nude but for her Postal Service ball cap, blue sneakers, and the over-sized mail pouch, still strapped over her shoulder. Her uniform was folded over her arm, her ID badge still clipped to a pocket flap on the shirt.

She took a deep breath, and walked up to the counter, ignoring, for the moment, the two men standing there.

“I think I’m ready to deliver the mail now,” she said, just a bit nervously.

Martha couldn’t get over this. None of the other postal carriers had ever given the slightest indication that they wanted to personally deliver the mail to its’ ‘intended recipient’, either dressed or undressed. Most just dropped off the mail and packages in a pile on the counter, and drove back out as quickly as they drove in.

George and Howard were even more dumbfounded than Martha. Martha looked at them both, and started to laugh, reaching out to push their jaws back up.

“Well, gentlemen. Why don’t you get yourselves proper, and help take our new letter carrier on her rounds.” Martha looked back at Stephanie. “Here, dear, you’ll want your ID badge.” Martha unclipped the badge from the shirt, clipped it onto an M&M-logo lanyard, and placed it over Stephanie’s head. It hung down between, and just below, her breasts.

Martha looked her in the eye. “No charge! Our gift to you!”

George shook his head up and down. “Why don’t you wait by your truck, and one of us will be out in just a moment to take you ‘round.” He nodded toward the door, and pointed at it with his thumb.

Stephanie swallowed hard, and shook her head as well. She walked out the door, closing it slowly behind her.

Both George and Howard expelled air through ballooned out cheeks, and raised eyebrows. “Well, that’s different,” said George.

“It sure is,” said Howard. “Who gets the pleasure of taking her around?”

Martha pulled a quarter out of a change box from under the counter. “Howard, heads or tails?” flipping the coin into the air.

“Heads!” he said, just before George snatched the coin out of the air, slapping it down onto the back of his other hand. He lifted his hand away, the other George’s profiled head exposed for all to see. He closed his eyes, and shook his head in defeat.

“Your call!! Do you want to drive her around, or me?” George asked.

Howard laughed. “Oh, I’ll do it. Give me somebody new to talk to.”

Martha was brought back to the present when Stephanie entered the Admin Office. She waved hello and dropped off a few items belonging to the business, or George and Martha. Then she went straight into the restroom, making herself presentable for a nudist camp. A few moments later she came out, nude except for her ball cap, blue sneakers, and the M&M lanyard with her USPS ID badge. She had taken to leaving her mailbag in the truck. She placed her folded uniform on the counter next to the mail she left for Martha. It would be safe there while she delivered the mail, and be an indicator to everyone in the office that Stephanie was still in camp.

She looked at Martha. “Just a few letters and such, but I have quite a few packages, mostly larger boxes. Somebody’s been ordering from various sporting goods outlets. All of them are bulky, but not very heavy. They all have names, and are addressed here, to M&M. Can you help me out with the specifics?” she asked.

Martha picked up her tablet. “Do you have the names?” she asked.

Stephanie pulled a small pad of paper out of her shirt pocket. She flipped open to a page, and showed Martha a short list of people’s names. Martha cross-referenced with the Residents and Members database, and together they found that most of the names were tent dwellers. Martha quickly guessed that the packages were probably summer weight sleeping bags, light blankets, or other camp equipment. She printed out the most recent update of who was where, and then she would have either Howard or Paul meet up with her, and help deliver those parcels.

Thankful, Stephanie ran out the door and into her mail truck. She pulled a small towel from an open box, laid it carefully across the seat, and drove off. Getting through the gate to the inner parking lot, she turned toward Sunrise. Most of the standard mail belonged to folks who drove their recreational vehicles (RVs) to the campsite, and settled here for the summer months, having their mail forwarded to them here. There were only a few packages that belonged to the semi-permanent residents who lived in the bungalows, but most were addressed to the tent-dwellers.

As she drove down Sunrise toward the RV section, she saw a golf cart at Central Avenue. She slowed, and saw a young man get out. As Howard started it back up, and drove past, he yelled “Go easy on Paul, Steph! And keep your hands to yourself.” She could hear the laughter in his voice.

This was her first time meeting, and seeing, Paul. As he walked around in front of her truck, she had herself a good look at him. “Steady, steady!’ she told herself. ‘But my, he is a handsome one. Probably spoken for already.’

He rounded the front, and stepped up into the mail truck, the sliding door already open. He smiled, and offered his hand to her.

“Hello! My name is Paul. You must be Stephanie!”

She let her eyes give him the once over, and that was it. Her eyes met his eyes, and she returned his hand shake.

“Yes, I’m Stephanie. Happy to see…I mean, meet you!” She laughed at her Freudian slip, but to her relief, noticed that he looked her over also, only once, and seemed to take no offense at her words.

“I see you’re not in uniform, either!” he said as he grabbed an overhead bar.

Stephanie laughed, her mind calmed. “I am for this place. Do you mind if I dump the paper mail first? Most of it seems to be for people in the RVs.”

He shook his head. “I’m here to assist you, so whatever works for you is okay by me!” Pointing back up the road after Howard, she asked, “Does he embarrass you like that all day?”

Paul laughed, but shook his head, and all in a sarcastic tone, said “Oh, no! I’ve only been here for three days, so not long enough for that. I officially came on duty just a few hours ago, right after lunch. Oh, no!”

They both laughed, and shook their heads. They both knew right away that they were going to be good friends.

She lifted a large bin full of paper mail, magazines, circulars, and very small packages onto what passed for a console and dashboard in her truck. She fingered through the front half of the box, lifting a letter here and there to separate out each address.

She went down the street, and zig-zagged her way through the RV section, stopping at several of the campsites. Sometimes she handed the mail directly to members, as they were enjoying the afternoon out of doors. Others weren’t ‘at home’, being either up at the pool, or offsite running an errand, so she put it in the small mailbox that a lot of the RV’ers had set up, or she pushed it through the mail slot in the door.

The next part was harder. She stopped her truck when she reached the intersection of Sunset and Central. She got up from her driver’s seat, and went into the back, handing Paul several boxes. He piled them up in a stack around where he was standing, as she returned to her driver’s seat.

Continuing up Sunset Blvd., they stopped at a few tents. Stephanie cross-checked the R&M list that Martha had printed off, ensuring that the name on the box matched the numbered site. Paul signed her e–clipboard after delivering a parcel to each tent. She circled around to go down High Noon, and Paul delivered to both sides of the street at the same time. Howard pulled up next to Stephanie just as she was almost to the intersection with Central Ave. She tapped the top of four boxes.

“Paul, this one goes to number Sixteen”, she said, pointing, “and this one to Eighteen. These other two both go over to Nineteen,” pointing to the other side of the road.

Paul knew that none of these tents were occupied. Only a few tents were, but most of them weren’t; not in the middle of the week. Like the others before, he unzipped the flap of the tent just far enough to push the box or package through, and zipped it back again, being respectful of members privacy, whether they were privately-owned or rented ‘M&M’ tents. He ran back, pulling the boxes for his ‘neighbors’ in tent 19. He couldn’t help but notice the names on the boxes as he took each one, and these two boxes were no different. The labels for Tent 19 read ‘Iverson Family’. He popped back into the truck. As Stephanie pushed in the clutch she noticed Howard shaking his head.

“Only two for Nineteen?” he asked.

“Yes!” she said. “Is there something wrong?”

Howard shook his head. “I don’t know” he said. “Got anymore?”

Stephanie shrugged her shoulders when Paul brought three more boxes from the back of the truck, one much smaller than the other two.

Paul said, “This small one goes around the corner on East Central, but the last two boxes are the heaviest we’ve had all day, and addressed to a Wayne Hamilton, here at M&M. Nothing more specific.”

Howard nearly jumped out of his golf cart.

“Wayne’s here? Where?” He realized how redundant his questions were, but picked up his walkie-talkie.

Clicking the talk-button, he said excitedly, “Martha! This is Howard! Martha! This is Howard!” Without waiting for her to acknowledge, he continued, “Is Deuce here? Stephanie and Paul have two boxes for him. Where is he?”

While waiting for Martha to respond, he returned his attention to Stephanie and Paul.

“Wayne Hamilton was just a kid the last time I saw him; a teenager, I guess. Over ten, maybe twelve, years, must be. Everyone calls him Deuce,” as if that explained anything relevant.

Martha’s voice came back over Howard’s walkie-talkie.

“Howard! George and I picked him up at the train station early this morning and brought him back here. He’s in the tent next to his Uncle John, Sunrise Sixteen! He may still be sleeping, though. It was a long trip.”

But Howard was hearing none of that. He stomped the gas pedal, spinning out a fair u-turn with his golf cart in the middle of the street. Stephanie and Paul followed, a bit slower, stopping long enough to deliver the box on East Central, and then making the left turn onto Sunrise. Stephanie pulled her mail truck in behind Howard’s golf cart. They could already hear him calling before they even stopped.

“Deuce? Deuce? Is it really you?” Howard called out loud, standing in front of the tent.

The tent unzipped from the inside and out stepped a young man, just a few years older than Paul. He was as tall as Howard, wide-shouldered and hipped, barrel-chested, but with long, spindly, legs. True to form for a nudist camp, he was nude, except for a pair of extremely dark pilot’s goggles. He also looked like he just woke up. Howard reached out and touched Deuce’s shoulder and the two men hugged, like long lost buddies.

Paul stepped out of the truck, pulling the boxes with him. He walked over with Stephanie toward the two men. Somewhat to Paul’s dismay, even this guy had an all-over tan, and a deep one, too, even for the end of May.

Howard pushed Deuce away from him, but kept hold of his shoulders, looking him up and down.

“Oh, God! You’re a man, now! How long has it been? Ten? Twelve years?”

Deuce shook his head. “Almost fifteen”, he replied, “nearly half a lifetime ago, Mister Howard!” He turned his head slightly, hearing Paul and Stephanie stepping closer. Howard looked back at them, too.

“Deuce was the top-dog kid of the camp back in the day! He used to follow me around all the time, too.”

Deuce laughed. “It was easy enough to do, Mister Howard. You still haven’t fixed that wonky back left fender on your golf cart. I can hear that rattle clear across the camp. I always knew where you were.”

Howard nodded. “You always did have a great sense of hearing!” He again looked at Paul and Stephanie, pointed at his eyes and shook his head from side to side.

“He’s showing you I’m blind, isn’t he?” laughed Deuce, again. “Some things never change!”

Howard couldn’t help but laugh. “Much like me forgetting my manners. Stephanie, Paul, this is Deuce. Deuce, this is Stephanie, our mail carrier, and Paul, my new assistant.”

Deuce held his hand out to no one in particular. Paul still had the two boxes in his hands, but Stephanie was closer and took his hand. She wasn’t expecting the bear hug that followed. His hands went around her shoulders, then down her back to her buttocks, and then off at her hips.

“Ah, I love me a full-figured woman!”

Stephanie, while not shy about her body, was always concerned with being heavier than she should be, but kind of liked the way Deuce said and considered her a ‘full-figured woman’! She blushed.

Paul put the two boxes on the ground and reached for Deuce’s outstretched hand. He, too, got a groping hug, but this time Deuce pulled back, ran his hands down Paul’s chest, abdomen, and down onto his thighs.

“Hmmm! Decathlete? A runner, perhaps?” Deuce asked.

Paul shook his head, realizing too late that that wouldn’t be seen by Deuce, and said, “No, a rower! Like Howard.”

Deuce smiled. “Finally, Mister Howard has a rowing buddy.”

Paul asked the unasked question. “Why are you nick-named Deuce?”

Howard chuckled quietly, shaking his head from side to side, and raised his hand to cover his eyes.

Raising his hands to his goggles, Deuce turned his head approximately in Stephanie’s direction. “Watch her.” He raised his goggles.

Stephanie, being a public servant, has seen many people with various physical conditions, even blind people. But nothing prepared her for what she saw, or didn’t see. She drew back, a bit horrified, before becoming momentarily still, as still as a stone statue. Paul noticed.

“She froze, didn’t she?” When Paul looked back at Deuce, he blinked, not believing what his eyes were seeing, or rather, not seeing. He also froze. He recovered quickly, however. “What…? Where…? Where are your eyes?” he asked, when he could find his voice.

Deuce lowered his goggles back over the place where most people have eyes, even people who are blind. He adjusted the goggles so that they were again tightly wrapped around his face.

“Anophthalmia is the medical term; an absence of one or both eyes. In my case, both eyes, with no ocular tissue of any kind, not even an optic nerve. And the part of my brain”, he said, tapping his forehead right above where his eyes should be, “the part that processes vision, is atrophied. It’s an extremely rare genetic condition.” He made a fist, shaking it like he had a pair of dice. “Come on…snake eyes!” He pretended to roll the dice. “But, you’d have to roll double ones about a hundred times, in a row, to have it!”

Realizing he gave the explanation of the answer, but not the answer itself, he continued, “Medusa, from Greek mythology, could turn men into stone just by looking at them. So can I, at least for a few seconds. Medusa, however, is a name for a woman. So I became Deuce.”

After a few moments of awkward silence, Paul tapped the two boxes. “Well, Deuce, you have mail!”

Deuce didn’t look surprised. “Probably the camping equipment I sent to myself day before yesterday. It should be some food, pots and pans, grilling tools, an air mattress, a sleeping bag, and a pillow.”

Stephanie looked up at the sun, and said “And I have the rest of my route to do! Have a great day everyone. Thank you, Paul, for your help. See you tomorrow, Howard. Deuce, it was a pleasure to meet you.” She hopped into her mail truck, and drove up to the Admin building.

“Does she look as good as she sounds?” asked Deuce, his head rolling in a faux-swoon.

“And then some,” answered Howard, with a slow wink at Paul.

Continued in Part 4

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