The Late Arrival

By Lillian Siegel

Charlie paced back and forth in the front hallway of his ancient, rickety house. He felt like jumping up and down and stomping his feet, but he was afraid the roof would fall in. He wanted to run outside and scream at the world of slow mail delivery, but he was afraid the neighbors would complain just as they did about his outrageous birthday party last week.

Suddenly the phone rang. “Hello?” Charlie answered it.

“Charlie, did it come yet?” his friend James huffed into the phone.

“No. Don’t you think I would have called you if it did?” he replied, annoyed.

“Someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” James teased.

“Yes, because I was up all night waiting for this silly package to come,” Charlie retorted. He paused. “Do you think maybe it’s not going to come? Do you think she forgot about me?”

“Charlie, no. Don’t think that way. You’re so pessimistic. It was your birthday and your mom loves you. She wouldn’t forget,” James reassured.

“My birthday was two days ago. Why didn’t it come then? And besides, I haven’t seen her in years. She might not even remember my existence,” Charlie sulked.

“No one forgets their own son’s sixteenth birthday. The postal service is probably sluggish this week. Anyways Charlie, you sound really exhausted. The package is going to come eventually, so I really think you should just go back to sleep.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Charlie agreed. “And even if it doesn’t come…”

“It will. Now go back to bed,” James said sternly.

“Fine. You win,” Charlie snapped. He slammed the phone down on the kitchen counter. He started heading up the creaky stairs when he heard the noise he had wanted so badly to hear. The doorbell rang. It had to be the mail.