It's been six months since I started this job. Everything has settled into a pattern, and I know my part of town well enough that I'm comfortable. Sure there are still heavy days, and days where the deliveries are spread out, and days that are both, but it's bearable. Of course, Christmas is coming up, and from what I understand it is a nightmare. I suppose I'll find out soon enough.

After four months in Enid, I've gotten to know a few of the regular customers well enough for some small talk. There's never enough time for much more. There are the friendly ones who forced candy on me around Halloween, and then there are those who rarely say a word to me. One customer has never acknowledged me or spoken to me, even when signing for or taking the package. One time I delivered to her and a man I assume is her boss was there, and she managed some sort of grunt in my direction. It was a very touching moment for me. But for the most part, everyone is pleasant, at least after getting used to seeing me three days a week for four months.

Then there is the woman who lives on the northwest side of town. I deliver or pickup at her house about once a week. I remember one of the first times I was there, I delivered a letter and a young lady said that they had one to pick up. While I was waiting (quicker than coming back later) a man came to the door and started talking to me. Small stuff, as conversations with strangers usually are, but I remember certain parts. He said he just moved here from California. Why anyone would want to go from there to Enid, America, I have no idea. He also said that the couriers get all the women where he was from. Interesting I thought, do the drivers out west possess some different powers than we in the mid-west? Maybe I haven't been at it long enough for the lure of the 'package' to kick in, maybe the women in California are turned on by big trucks and goofy uniforms. Then again, maybe they're on crack.

Anyway, the conversation stuck with me for some strange reason. Probably just the sheer absurdity of it all, but what really wouldn't leave me was the woman there. From the first time I saw her it was weird. She was probably in her fifties, and she always looked at me strange. I never saw her that much, but when I did, she seemed to be not all there, like her mind was drifting. Maybe that's why she didn't always answer the door. But the way she half looked through me was kind of creepy.

I had only been to the house twice in the last month, but the last time she answered. She signed and took the letter, then just stared. I smiled and walked back to the truck, but I could still feel her eyes boring into me. I tried to shake it off, but the rest of the day I couldn't get rid of the image of her. There seemed to be something about her...something familiar. She reminded me of a friend that I hadn't seen in a while. It was more just the size of the woman, and that maybe I thought Kalyn might look similar when she got older. After a couple of days, and a few beers later, I forgot about it, until the day before Thanksgiving.

I made my last call for pickups and sure enough, there was the address. I got my regulars and then I headed west. I had forgotten, or at least managed to suppress the woman, but now I was facing her again. Of course, odds were that it wouldn't even be her, most of the time it wasn't...I do have an occasional fantasy.

Sometimes they leave the letter by the front door, again, no such luck. I rang the doorbell and waited. It was late November, so it wasn't odd that a chill swept through me. But I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. The door opened and there she was.

"Hi," I said.

"Hello," she replied in an odd tone of voice. "This is a very important letter. Please make sure it gets where it needs to go."

"Always," I answered. "We're the best." I tried a light tone, but it was forced. "Have a good Thanksgiving."

I turned and headed back to the truck when I thought I heard, "That's up to you," float to my ears. I was tempted to turn and see if indeed she had said that, but I didn't. I was feeling uneasy, and wanted to get out of there as soon as I could. I jumped into the truck, threw the letter on the dash, and drove off. I was unable to keep from taking a quick peek as I left. She was still there, staring at me. I shuddered again. Even from the truck I could see her haunting light-green eyes.

Usually I prep any packages I get on a pickup in the truck before I leave, but I didn't want to hang around. I just drove. I had four more pickups to make before I could leave town. I lit a cigarette and thought to myself, I need a beer. I made my other stops and got ready to leave town when I realized that I hadn't prepped the woman's letter. I had to do it now or else it would be after it's close time and I would get in trouble. So I scanned it and punched in the zip code, the town, and the state...and realized that it was where I lived. I looked at the address, and it was addressed to me.

My fingers twitched and the envelope fell from my hands. I stood there afraid to look, but unable not too. It was from Kalyn, to me. If it hadn't been the night before Thanksgiving and all ready a shitty day, I would've opened it right then and there, but I was in no condition to accept that it was from Kalyn. She was in Los Angeles for Christ's sake! I left the letter there, put on my headphones, and drove home. I knew it was there, but I managed not to even glance at it the entire trip home. It was a very long hour.

I made it home Wednesday night about 6:30. It was late for a normal day, but early compared to when I thought I would be back when the day began. I removed my hat and gloves, grabbed a beer and sat down. I downed it quickly and grabbed another. I smoked a cigarette, then finally reached into my coat and pulled out the letter. I took a long drink and opened the envelope...

“I know that this must be hard for you to understand, but I need to talk to you in person immediately. It is very important that we speak. Lives of those we love hang in the balance.
Kalyn”

She gave a place and said she'd be there Thursday and throughout the holiday weekend each day at a certain time. I read it several more times, then went to the fridge for some more beer.

I had probably known all along that the woman was Kalyn. That's what I told myself to explain the sense of familiarity anyway. From there I could easily shrug off the chills. But as I sat at the designated meeting place, I wasn't sure that all the alcohol in the world would get me through what I was waiting for. I did, however, give it a shot.

She walked through the door at the time she said she would. Without a word she sat across from me. I took a drink and a puff and waited. She studied me, her eyes focusing in and out as I scrutinized her. I remained silent. I had no idea what to say, and didn't believe I could say it if I did.

"You're growing your hair out."

That certainly caught me off-guard.

"I try to every winter, I've just gotten farther this year." It was a standard response. I've gotten that remark a lot recently.

She raised a hand, possibly to touch my hair, but my eyes widened and she put her hand back on the table and sighed. "To thine own self be true," she mumbled under her breath.

I just looked at her.

She rubbed her brow, then ran her hand over her head to the back of her neck where she held it and twisted her head, all the while looking down.

"Kalyn?"

She looked up at me and a tear fell from her left eye. "Yes," she whispered.

"How...how is this possible?!? How..." I couldn't think of anything else.

"I need your help."

"How..." Yes, I had probably had more than I should before she got there, but there was no way I was going to handle this stone-cold-sober. Then Logic kicked in, "Who are you?!?"

"I am Kalyn," she said wearily.

"No, Kalyn is in L. A."

"I know."

My mouth dropped open then closed, a few times, "WHAT?"

She sighed again, "The Kalyn you know, that you haven't seen or heard from in months is in L. A. I am Kalyn, but not one you know, or have ever known," she sounded bitter. "I am me from the future."

I just stared, but then it started to make sense, in a buzzed sort of way. I think I've known all along that the woman was Kalyn, it was the fact that she was older that my mind was having trouble with. It still was, "Impossible."

She shrugged, "Yet I am here."

I couldn't deny that, she WAS here, "How do I know you ARE Kalyn?"

She gave me a look that I remembered, and preceded to recite certain conversations we had shared. "You have to help me."

"How did you get here?"

"I don't know. I'm still having trouble adapting to this time." She mashed her hands together, "You've got to help me."

I was still troubled about the situation, but she had proven herself to be who she said she was as far as my drunken state was concerned, "Help you get back?"

She laughed. It almost touched her pain-stained eyes, "No. I will not be this me for long, not here. I want you to save Jeff and Ken and Jake..." she trailed off, "And me, I suppose."

They were all friends of mine who had left to go to California. They were a band, a good band, a very good band in my opinion, but I could've been biased, they were my friends. "How?"

"I will come back to Stillwater soon, you have to convince me to go back."

"Why?"

Her eyes squeezed shut, but the tears still ran freely, "Jeff and I had a fight, I left. The band got signed, the first album was huge, but Jeff ended up overdosing after the party to celebrate the album going gold. Ken...was always unstable, he's in a psychiatric ward..." She trailed off, her words stuck in her throat.

I wanted to reach over and comfort her, but I couldn't. I was learning the future of my friends. "What happened to Jake?"

Kalyn swallowed a few times before she managed, "He's on a soap opera. It's a living and he loves acting, but only because he can be somebody else and not someone who has lost his two closest friends."

She broke down after that, and impulse took over. I moved to the other side of the booth and held her. She buried her head in my shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. Tears started to seep from my own eyes. This was my friend, those were my buddies whose lives had been torn, or lost, I wanted to help, "What do you want me to do?"

She collected herself enough to pull away and look at me, "You have to find me."

I looked at her blankly.

"I'll be back in Stillwater soon, find me and make me go back to L. A."

"How can I find you?"

"I don't know," she said to herself, then she put her hands on the sides of my head, and pulled me close, "but you have to make me go back."

"I will," I said.

"Promise," she said quietly.

I almost jerked back, when had my word not been good enough, but I didn't want to upset her more, "I promise."

She sighed, almost happily, then snuggled up closer and held on to me with a grip stronger than death.

© 2009 Ravenai