Tuesday night, I heard Farmer H's phone ring. I figured it was a resident of his old-people dwelling units with a complaint. I couldn't hear very well, being in the bathroom, seated upon the throne, the door closed and the automatic fan running that is built into the ceiling light. Farmer H talks pretty loud, though. I thought I heard him saying he didn't know, and that he didn't want to "worry HM with it."
As you might imagine, something didn't seem right. Mainly that he didn't want to worry me! So when I came out, I asked about the call.
"It was this guy I used to work with, asking if I'd seen your cousin. I told him no, I don't see him since I retired. He said he'd been trying to call him for several days, and your cousin don't answer. He called the neighbors, and they ain't seen him either. They said they picked up his mail, because it was falling out of the box. I said maybe try to call his sister, because I wouldn't want to worry his mom right now."
Let the record show that this is my cousin, a few years younger than me, who bought my mom's house. He's lived there since 2016, first with his wife, now alone since they got divorced. His mom is my favorite gambling aunt, who is now in assisted living. The neighbors have been there since I was in high school. They came from Croatia, and have noticeable accents. The man is a carpenter, and the wife was friends with my mom. Their house is across the blacktop road. Both houses have rural mailboxes on my cousin's side of the road.
Of course I was worried.
"Has he been going to work?"
"Yeah. The last time my buddy saw him was leaving work on Friday."
"That's FRIDAY! How much mail could he get on Friday, Saturday, Monday, Tuesday? Maybe he hasn't been staying there. Maybe he has a girlfriend or something."
"Maybe. The mail might have been in bundles, like they do ours, and it was just full."
"That mailbox is way bigger than ours. Maybe he just doesn't pick up his mail. I hope nothing's wrong with him! Should somebody do a welfare check?"
"He asked me if I had a key to that house, but I said no. So he's trying to call his sister."
That's my cousin too, of course. His older sister. She's pretty efficient. Lives in the city, works at a bank. If anybody could solve this mystery, it would be her!
The next morning, Farmer H said he had a text from his buddy that my cousin had been found, and he was okay. Nothing more. Not where he was, or where he'd been. Not really my business, but I'm curious. Most of all, I'm relieved.
My murder shows tell me nothing good comes of an overflowing mailbox and a person who hasn't been seen for four days...
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