Special to the Maynard Park Neighborhood Blog [by an Anonymous Postal worker]
I’ve seen a few strange things at times walking my Postal route through Seattle’s Maynard Park, but I’ve never encountered anything like I experienced today.
As I walked North on West Maynard Park Boulevard, I saw this guy creeping along the sidewalk ahead of me. He had a grayish ashen complexion. His arms flailed out in front of him like he was trying to catch fireflies, and he dragged one of his legs behind him as he slowly ambled forward. His clothes looked like they had been unearthed from dirt, shredded in places and matted with grime.
I didn’t want to pass by him, so I stopped and pretended to sort through my bag of mail. Just then, a very well-dressed woman in a nice blue blazer, with coiffed high-end hair and pearls (a Real Estate Agent), approached the guy, and I half expected that he might lunge at her. But, instead his gaze fixed on her as the two made eye contact, and they appeared to be having a conversation.
This seemed like the right time for me to make my move, walk past them and then continue on my route. So, I started walking again, getting closer to the lady Real Estate agent and her sketchy companion. They had both turned their backs as I approached, with a couple of feet of sidewalk for me to slide by, hopefully unnoticed.
I was able to pass by and I went about half a block more before I turned to look back. When I turned around, they were both staring back at me, almost sizing me up in some way. I turned back around and kept moving, and then I quickly glanced back to see that the stumbling one had begun heading towards me. I turned and picked up my pace, almost running now. Then suddenly, the woman grabbed the guy’s shoulder, pulled him back and leaned in to whisper something to him. He stopped and sat down at a nearby bench.
The woman stepped away, reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. She held it up in front of her, gesturing with it in my direction, and she said, “Sir, sir…I have a letter I need to mail”, and she was heading towards me, her heels click, click, clicking on the sidewalk.
Something didn't seem right, so I just ran, and by policy I can't accept loose mail not deposited in a proper mail-drop location. So, I ran as fast as I could until the clicking seemed to stop, and then I went into the Maynard Park Bait and Tackle Shop. I stood behind a canoe, keeping still and quiet, and listening, for anything. After a few moments, the woman and her heels clicked louder then stopped just outside the store’s front window. I stayed there for another couple of minutes, staying hidden but with a clear view of the store window.
I looked down at my watch, and when I looked back up, the stumbling guy had joined the Real Estate lady again and the two now stood, with their backs to me, surveilling the distance. I had to get out of there and get back on my mail route, so I snuck up closer to the door, and that’s when I heard the woman say to the guy, “You’re going to need someone like me to help you get close to the people you want. And in a strange way, I think we’re good for each other.” And then the gray one leaned in and said very quietly, “Brains…”
I ran out of the shop and down the street…
No more mail was delivered today, on this Friday the 13th in Maynard Park.
