PAPERBOY

“Good Morning Mrs. Saunders!” The young boy called as he expertly tossed a tightly rolled up newspaper from his carrying bag into the arms of an old lady standing on her stoop.

“Good morning Blinky!” she called out as he peddled his way further down the beautifully paved suburban road.

“Good Morning Mr. O'shaughnessy!” He called out as he once again tossed a paper to an overweight man enjoying his first cigarette of the day.

“You’re up early Blinky!”

“Right as rain!”

The two laughed as Blinky tipped his bright pink cap and continued on his route before slowing down at a home with an overgrown lawn. No one was standing at this stoop to greet him like the others. Blinky left his bike in the driveway and walked towards the door.

“Mrs. Abdul, I have your paper.” He called.

An old, wavering voice called out. “Oh just bring it inside dear. I just sat down.”

“I’m not supposed to come into people's homes. Can I just leave it on the front step?”

“And make an old woman bend down?”

“Fine. But this is the last time!”

Blinky opened the door to see a middle-aged woman in a bright robe laying on a white couch. She sipped a cocktail while watching a game show on her large flat screen tv.

“You know you’re not that old. I think you’re the same age as my mom.”

“Oh you flatter me dear. What’s the news today?”

“I dunno. I don’t read them, I just deliver them, Mrs. Abdul.”

“Good answer. And please call me Paula. Mrs. Abdul was my mother and she was a real cun- I mean bitch… Fuck! I mean..- shit. I’m sorry honey. I shouldn’t swear in front of a child.”

“I’m 10.”

“Exactly.” Paula sipped from her martini.

“Well. See ya next weekend.” Blinky said as he closed the door behind him. “It’s a good thing I saved her for last. Now I have the rest of the weekend to play Pokemon Snap and- ” Blinky’s heart plummeted in his chest as he looked down at his satchel to find a single, solitary, tightly rolled newspaper.

“BUT HOW!?” He exclaimed in a panicked frenzy. “Mr. Xu, Madame Boudoir, Mr. Kolins” He counted the names on his fingers while pacing up and down the driveway. “Ms. Hazelwood, Mr. O'shaughnessy, Mrs Saunders, Mrs. Abdul, I mean Paula…” He pulled out an aged, crumbled list of subscribers to the Prescott Journal and crossed the names as he counted again and again until the page was a mess of pen scratches.

“That’s everyone! Whose paper could this be?” He sat dumbfounded as Paula’s cackling laughter echoed from outside her house. Blinky ran to his yellow bicycle and peddled down the street.

“Mr. O'shaughnessy!! Did I give you your paper!?”

“Right as rain, Blinky!”

“Oh yeah.”

He peddled faster.

“Mrs. Saunders!! Mrs. Saunders!!!”

“What is it Blinky are you okay?”

“Did I give you your paper!?”

“Y-Yes, don’t you rememb-”

Blinky whizzed by her.

“I’ve been managing this route for 3 months and haven’t missed a single house. I can’t flake out now. This is my first job, if I mess it up it will send me down a road of failure for the rest of my life.” Blinky thought to himself as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead that stung his eyes as they made their way past his brow.

. . .

 “Goodbye Ms. Hazelwood! Hope the operation goes well.” Blinky called as he batted the kickstand with his foot.

“Alright so everyone on the list has their paper. That means that someone is unlisted but subscribes to the Journal.” Blinky stared up at the sun as it rose a tad bit higher into the sky. “There’s still morning left. I can do this… Think. THINK!” Blinky slapped himself across the face sending a splash of sweat onto Ms. Hazelwood’s bright blue mailbox.

“Wait…  Everyone that subscribes to the Journal has a little sticker on their mailbox! If I drive to everyone’s home with a Prescott Journal sticker I can knock on their door and ask if they’ve received a paper! It’s the only way!”

Blinky turned excitedly to face the road but a look of realization quickly passed over his face. “I know this side of town like the back of my hand. Everyone that has a sticker has their paper…” Blinky looked over his shoulder and gulped deeply. “I gotta go to the other side of the tracks.”

Blinky breathed deeply, hopped on his bicycle, rang his bell twice for good luck, and peddled over the bumpy railroad tracks separating everything he thought he knew and what laid in store. 

. . .

The road was cracked and uncared for, Blinky’s tires bumped over the uneven pieces of gravel and litter uncomfortably. “Cheesus Christ.” he whispered to himself as a vagrant wandered in front of his bike. Blinky swerved the tire and breaked, leaving a tire mark tracing his movements.

“Woah sick trick dude.” The vagrant called out.

“Mister you need to be a lot more careful, you almost got hit.”

“Ah wouldn’t be the first time am I right?” he laughed. “Say, are you a mailman?”

“No, I'm a paperboy. I have a missing paper that I need to find and-”

“I used to be a mailman. Got shitcanned for reading the mail though.”

“Oh yeah, you can’t do that.”

“You’re a lot brighter than me when I was your age… How old are you?” The vagrant asked as he scratched the multicolored stubble growing on his face.

“I… I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“God damn, you are a smart kid. Already got a job and not reading mail. I’m rooting for you kid! You’re a good kid. A DAMN good kid. My name’s Allen.”

“My name is Blinky. I really need to go-”

“Pleasure meeting you Billy. I’m gonna take a lil nappy nap.”

“On… On the sidewalk?”

“Yep! You go on along now and deliver that mail. Don’t read it though!” Allen laughed as he stretched himself out on the sidewalk, resting his back against a bus shelter and tipped his torn Blue Jays hat over his eyes and promptly began to snore loudly. 

Blinky peddled further down the street scouring for houses that were few and far between the apartment buildings and dilapidated business fronts. Blinky stopped pedaling to catch his breath. He unhinged the water bottle from its stand beneath his bike frame and drank deeply from the few drops that remained. They had a peculiar taste given from the heated plastic. 

“Hey Paperboy!” Called a portly young teenager with an uneven, scarce spattering of facial hair beneath his second chin. He stood beside two other boys in an overgrown parking lot beneath a long faded billboard.

“Give us a paper!” They called.

Blinky’s heart began to race.

“Y-You need a subscription!” He called out as he clumsily began attempting to place the water bottle back in the bike's flimsy metallic frame, a task made difficult by his hands shaking from fear of the approaching teens. As Blinky looked up the boys were now charging towards him.

“GIVE US A PAPER!”

Blinky dropped the water bottle he had earned from collecting Jump Rope for Heart donations and began peddling with tears in his eyes. He peddled without ever looking back until he found himself completely lost in a new and unknown part of town; the sun was now hanging high in the sky. 

“It’s hardly morning now. I’m late.” He said to himself breathlessly while surveying his new surroundings. Houses lined the street, all packed together closely, indiscernible where one began and the next ended. Stripped automobiles lined the driveways with parts strewn across the lawn. Tarps covered where windows once were and the ones that remained were decorated by metal bars. Blinky didn’t know why but he removed his pink hat and stashed it in his mail carrying bag. 

“At least there’s houses. Better look for that sticker.”

Blinky peddled up and down the street slowly. The neighborhood was eerily quiet. Blinky began to think that it was a ghost town until he could see that people inside their homes were peering at him through their blinds suspiciously and he began to get the sinking feeling that he was not welcome. 

Finally he spotted the remnants of a sticker on the mailbox next to the door of a townhouse. The windows were blocked with blinds and bars and the steps were uneven and a few were broken. Blinky looked back at his prized yellow bike. He had never felt he needed a bike lock before now.

As Blinky approached the door there were several buttons to buzz. The names were illegible but they were listed as Buzzer A, B and C. Blinky inspected the remnants of the sticker on the bronze mailbox, it was faded and parts had been peeled.

“There was no way to know.” He said to himself. “I’ll have to ask.”

Blinky pushed all the buzzers, only one of which seemed to work, and the white inner door opened. The screen door remained closed offering a dark and unclear look at the silhouette of the man inside. 

“Who are you?” He asked.

“Oh, uh, Hi. My name is Blinky.”

“Blinky?” The man asked groggily, as if he had awoken from a nap.

“Yeah, do you have a subscription to the Prescott Journal?”

“The what?”

“The newspaper. I’ve been looking all over and I saw your sticker and I thought maybe that this was your paper and-”

“Ohh. Yeah. You know what I do have a… subscription to that. Why don’t you come inside?”

“I’m… not supposed to do that.”

“You said you were biking all over and couldn’t find me. I’ve been waiting all day for my paper.”

“Yeah it’s just that..” An uneasy, terrified feeling began rising in Blinky’s stomach.

“Just come inside and we can talk about it.” The man said. Blinky could now see that he was in pajama pants and a dirty shirt. He still couldn’t make out his face but a musty odor wafted from the inside of the house. Even though his legs felt weak and the world around him seemed as if it were spinning, Blinky began stepping away from the man’s door.

“What the hell kid? Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Huh!? Don’t walk away from me, I'm talking to you!”

Blinky continued toward his bike as the feeling climbed up his throat, he didn’t know if he was going to vomit or cry as the pressure built inside his face. Blinky began to peddle aimlessly.

“As long as it’s away from him” he thought. “That’s where I need to be.”

Blinky rode until the scenery became somewhat familiar. The area began making more sense to him. He began to realize that this part of town had different stories to tell, ones that weren’t so simply told. He wondered if the papers he delivered ever wrote about them. His thoughts were shattered by a familiar but unflattering voice. 

“Hey! There he is!” It was the teenagers from what felt like hours ago, and this time they were on bikes of their own.

“HEY YOU OWE US A PAPER!” called a skinnier teenager who grabbed at Blinky’s bag and tugged on it, nearly sending him crashing to the hard cracked pavement. Blinky swerved and braked, once again sending a burning tire slide. The skinny teenager swerved clumsily and his tire hit the curb of the sidewalk, sending him flying forward and over his handlebars. Blinky rode on as the other two teenagers followed in hot pursuit. 

As they raced past the overgrown parking lot where they first met, Blinky knew that it was only a matter of time before the teens would gain on him. The overweight teenager had an expensive looking  bike that was gaining speed while his friend had an athletic build that stood on his pedals as he rode and was closing in on Blinky.

“Just hand it over kid.” The athletic teen demanded as his bike lined up beside Blinky’s.

“I’m sorry.” Blinky whispered as he reached into his mailbag and removed his pink hat and tossed it like a frisbee at the teenagers gear chain. It immediately stuck and the bike grinded to halt causing the teen to fly forward and crash painfully onto the asphalt. The teen howled in pain while the pink hat was torn to shreds.

“I’ll get you for that, Paperboy!” the final, overweight teenager shouted.

Blinky looked ahead, he could see the tracks. If he could just make his way across those he would be back to his secure, loving neighborhood. He would be safe.

“I’m close, Paperboy!” The teen shouted as he pressed his front tires against the back of Blinky’s. “I’m gonna make you eat that newspaper kid! I’m gonna shove it down your throat!” 

Blinky’s bike began wobbling as the teen rammed against it. Blinky shifted his gears and painfully cycled his worn, tired legs to escape this menace but it was no use, he couldn’t bring himself to pedal any faster. He began sobbing but had no tears left to shed.

“Is the widdle baby cwying?” The teen called out. “When I get my hands on you I’ll-” 

Suddenly, Blinky heard a loud crash of metal against pavement along with the painful cries of the teenager. Blinky looked back to see the teen on the ground with a bloodied, scraped knee and his bike in shambles. 

“What the hell you stupid bum!? Watch where you’re going, you made me crash!” The teen shouted angrily as he wheeled his bike with it’s bent front wheel back down the road.

“Sorry about that kid!” Allen called out, still standing in the middle of the road. He looked towards Blinky and gave a friendly smile and wave. Blinky stared back speechless as he passed over the tracks.

. . .

Blinky pulled into the office building for the Prescott Journal and stood at the empty front desk. A woman eventually made her way from the back room and sat down, confused.

“Yes, Blinky, what brings you in today?”

“I have a missing paper.” He said, his face barely peeking over the height of the desk as he placed the stray, rolled up newspaper onto the counter.

“Oh my, did you check your list?” She asked

“Yes. I checked everyone on the list, I went back to all of their homes, and then I went searching for homes that might have a sticker saying they get our paper and-”

“Oh. Well if you checked everyone on the list we may have just given you an extra paper.”
Blinky heavily closed his eyes and exhaled deeply a sound of disbelief.

“An extra…. Paper?”

“Yeah, we send them off pretty early in the morning and sometimes we make a mistake counting them. It happens. In fact we make mistakes all the time. I mean, look, the headline is misspelled and-”

“NO!!!” Blinky screamed to the shock of the woman behind the counter.

“I was chased today! I rode to the-to the BAD part of town for you! I looked everywhere for this paper!” Blinky could feel all the anger and injustice he was subjected to today boiling in his tiny heart, so he decided to let it out.

“All my life I was told to do my job and to do it right or I will end up a bum! And now you’re telling me that you don’t even do YOUR job right? And that you don’t even care! You’re the BOSS! What’s WRONG with you!?”

“Blinky. I am the editor of this paper. You can’t talk to me this way. You’re just a paperboy and-”

“No. Not any more. I’m a Paper Man now.” Blinky declared as he snatched the newspaper from the countertop and stomped his feet towards the door.

“Where are you going?” She asked. Blinky opened the door, not looking back.

“I have a paper to deliver.” 

. . .

“Is that you Billy?” Allen called out as Blinky pulled up to the side of the bus shelter.

“I know it’s not mail, but I figure you might want to read this.” Blinky said as he held out the rolled up newspaper.

“You’re a good kid Billy.” Allen said as he rolled the elastic band off and folded out the paper.

“A damn good kid.”