Morgan's Passing - Anne Tyler [135]
She was waving a pack of letters out the window. Morgan tipped his visored cap and took them from her. “Absolutely,” he said. “It was Robinson who was doing all that and now they’ve let him go. From here on out, you can trust the U.S. Mail, ma’am.”
“I bet,” she said.
She rolled up her window and screeched off.
Morgan dropped Bonny’s letter in the slot. Then he went through what he’d been handed by the woman. Patti Jo’s Dress Shop, LeBolt Appliances … he dropped them in too. Clarion Power and Light. He dropped that in. The rest were personal, addressed in a lacy, slanted script to a woman in Essex, a woman in Anneslie, and a married couple in Madison, Wisconsin. He would mail them too, but first he might just take a little glance inside. He started walking back toward the church, coughing dryly, tapping the envelopes against the palm of his hand. They were crisp and thick, weighted with secrets. They whispered spent Monday letting that dress out some and labor pains so bad she like to died and least you could have done is have the decency to tell me. Up ahead, Emily stood at the curb beside a cardboard carton. Josh rode astride her hip. For some reason Morgan felt suddenly light-hearted. He started walking faster. He started smiling. By the time he reached Emily, he was humming. Everything he looked at seemed luminous and beautiful, and rich with possibilities.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ANNE TYLER was born in Minneapolis in 1941 but grew up in Raleigh, North Carolina. She graduated at nineteen from Duke University and went on to do graduate work in Russian studies at Columbia University. This is Anne Tyler’s sixteenth novel; her eleventh, Breathing Lessons, was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in 1988. She is a member of the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters. She lives in Baltimore.