The Inspector of Dead Letters

David had been handling a strangely high amount of suspicious looking brown paper packages lately. It was customary for a mail-man to receive one or two, but in the past fortnight the sheer velocity of suspicious brown parcels placing into unsuspecting mailboxes had David furrowing his brow in confusion.

"What makes them suspicious" his wife, Audrey, had asked. "Like, how do you know the difference between a suspicious brown-paper-package and a regular brown-paper-package."

He rolled his eyes at her, and placed the package on the dining room table. She measured it in her hands, thumbing at the lumpy insides. "Could be anything" she said, opening a wooden draw from the display cabinet. That's where they stored all of the wayward posts. Aging nameless letters, brochures sent from the church, and the occasional mislabelled parcel with no return address.

Audrey liked to tell her friends that the perks of dating a delivery-man was that she got to keep all of the trinkets that didn't find a home.

"It's not true" David had interrupted at one of her parties.

"It is" she continued happily.

Of course, it wasn't true. Audrey had never opened any of the letters or parcels that David brought home. That would be an invasion of privacy.

Except for maybe that one letter she'd shimmied out of a scented, pink envelope. It was address to 'My Love' and contained no destination and no return address, so what else was she to do with it? And maybe there was one other time, when she'd been tempted by the illicit silhouette of a peppermint candy-cane standing stark against a letter to Santa. She'd ripped into it (delicately) and nibbled at the candy as she nodded her head along to the reasonable requests.

David never seemed to notice when the seals were broken. She didn't know why he collected them, just that he hated the idea of mail being sent to landfill. She had been breaking open another seal when David came home early. She jumped at the sight of him, outlined in the doorway and shaking his head. The letter fluttered to the floor and fell open by her toes. She ignored it, as if it by mere coincidence that it laid there.

"Honey, you're home!" she proclaimed, demonstrating an excessive show of dusting the display cabinet, "I was just doing some cleaning."

"Mhmm..." David said, placing two more parcels on the kitchen table.

"More?" she asked, padding over.

"No labels" he explained, eyeing them with curiosity.

Audrey played at the fraying hem of the smaller of the two parcels. "Could be valuable" she said, peering through a tear in the corner, "look, it's coming loose."

"Don't do it," David chastised.

She huffed. "I don't know why you bother if you're never going to open them." She slipped open the cabinet drawer to place the parcels inside, but found that it had become so full within the past two-weeks that the drawer would no longer close. Glancing first at David to ensure he wasn't watching, she slipped the smaller of the two parcels into her pocket.

The next morning while David slept, Audrey walked to the post-house, bringing the parcel with her. She bought a roll of brown paper wrap, and a spool of plain string. She wrapped over the original package, and tied a bow around the middle as if it where her own to give. In careful handwriting she wrote the name of the recipient but included no address;

To the homeowner, David Park.

She cocked her head to one side, eyeing it with pleasure. "That is a suspicious package" she said out loud, drawing the attention of the office attendant. She gave them a friendly wave as she dropped the parcel into the post-box.

As late afternoon drew near Audrey found herself loitering by the doorway, waiting for David to come home.

When he eventually pulled into the driveway Audrey tried to stop the smile playing at her lips. The giddy anticipation had the corner of her mouth twitching upwards, so she secured her lips in an unpleasant pout.

"What's wrong with you" David said as he climbed out of the car.

"Something wrong?" she echoed, slackening her face to portray casualness. "How was work?"

David was frowning at a parcel he carried in his hands. "This came in the mail" he said, not looking up. "Not in our mail-box, just... addressed to me." Audrey glanced at the brown paper-parcel in his hands.

To the homeowner, David Park.

"Huh" Audrey said, pretending to be surprised. She raised a brow, "are you going to open it?"

"I suppose so" said David, taking a seat at the dining room table. Audrey watched as he untied the string she'd knotted around the middle. He peeled back the first layer of wrap, to reveal the second underneath. He paused, and Audrey's heart skipped a beat.

"Weird", she commented, feigning innocence.

"Mm." David said, as he lifted the second layer. Underneath, he revealed a small ornamental display of a theatre, painted luminescent blue, red, purple, and yellow. He held it to the sunlight. Audrey held her breath.

"Strange" David said. She exhaled.

"It's beautiful, but... why would somebody send you that?" She asked.

"I don't know" David replied, standing. The floorboards creaked as he made his way over to the display cabinet. He hesitated by the draw, but then placed the ornament behind the glass shield next to a photo of Audrey holding an ice-cream cone. He stood back to inspect it, and Audrey stood beside him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, wondering who it was meant to belong to.

It continued like this for days. David would bring home another parcel which Audrey would pocket. She'd take it to the post-house the following morning, offer a friendly wave to the staff, and address the parcel,

To the homeowner, David Park

The second parcel had David receiving a decorative wine-stopper, then, a pile of coloured shoe-laces, and finally somebody's makeshift version of a Voodoo doll, which he took to the dump immediately. "Some parcels are made for landfill" he told her.

On the day following Audrey sat at the dining-table, eagerly anticipated David's return. But when he strolled through the door, he brought nothing with him but the cool Autumn breeze. His hands were empty. "No parcels" he said, pondering their absence. "They seem to have just... stopped."

And so it would be the following day,

and the one after that...

and the one after that.

The influx of mysterious paper-packages had stopped just as quickly as it had began.

Audrey was surprised to find just how disappointed this made her. The small gesture of taking the mail and sending it back to David had given her a daily thrill that she hadn't experienced before. She slumped her shoulders, and returned to life as usual; this time carrying a small pit at the base of her stomach.

"I wonder what caused it" she mused, a week later as David stepped through the door. "The sudden spike, that is."

"I don't know," David said distractedly.

"Do you think there will be more?"

"Don't know" he said.

Audrey sighed. A staleness threatened to overtake her limbs as she finally accepted that no new packages would be coming her way, except for the occasional wayward letter bound to every mail-man. She watched as David shuffled in his pocket. "Although" he said, "we did receive this." David passed Audrey a tea-stained envelope, wearing no stamp and no address. Only the words,

To the Home-Dweller

displayed in gold ink.

Audrey inspected it, eyes bright with intrigue. "How utterly mysterious" she whispered, turning it over in her palm. David watched, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Well, I suppose I'll put it with the rest" she said, inching toward the display cabinet.

"No" David interrupted, "it's for you."

Her eyes bore into him, searching for any sign of deception. When she was met with only calm encouragement, she sat back at the table. The seal of the letter was stamped with an elaborate letter 'A' engraved in burgundy wax. She slipped it open, heart pounding. Inside the envelope was a single sheet of paper, covered in cursive black ink.

"To Audrey Park" she read aloud.

It has come to my attention that you possess a certain set of skills that are suitable for an open position at Brendale Post House. The position in question requires the inspection of letters and parcels that have been found without a home.

This position, if you choose to accept it, will require you to investigate the contents of suspicious or mysterious mail, and - when possible - attempt to find it's appropriate recipient.

Please extend your response to Brendale Post House staff member, David Park.

She looked up at him, voice caught by the lump in her throat.

"So..." David said, nervously picking at his fingernails.

"Yes!" Audrey shouted, jumping out of her seat, "yes, yes yes!"

David laughed, picking her up by the waist and spinning her round. Audrey laughed as well, and planted a kiss on his lips. When he placed her down he paused, and held her chin gently under his thumb. He said,

"I hereby pronounce you 'The Inspector of Dead Letters'."

She let the phrase roll off her tongue. "I think it suits me very well," she mused.

"You don't say" David replied, shooting her an accusatory grin.

"Wait..." she paused. "You knew? That it was me, sending the..."

"That is a suspicious package" he mimicked in a lilting tone. She gasped. David continued, "what, you think the Office staff don't talk to each other?" He cackled. She joined in, realising that the Office Attendant had been keeping him updated on her trips to the post-box. She slapped him playfully on the chest.

"Wait" she said, between giggles. "If you knew it was me sending the parcels to you..." David blanched. She carried on, mischief bubbling from her throat, "then why did you open them?"

He let out a hoot of laughter, clasping her by the shoulder. "I couldn't help myself" he admitted, "I had to know."

"Then let it be" she proclaimed. "I hereby pronounce us 'Mr and Mrs. Inspector of Dead Letters'."

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Where did the parcels come from? This piece was entered into Vocal's Brown Paper Box challenge - hence - resulting in an influx of stories regarding mysterious brown paper packages.