The package on my doorstep had my name, but I definitely didn’t order it.
Sitting on my kitchen counter now, all I could do was stare at it. I wasn’t expecting a delivery. I have nothing on order. Where did this come from?
I called a few family members but they knew nothing about the delivery. More to the point, they asked why I would think they’d buy me anything when it wasn’t even my birthday. There’s nothing like the love of family, right?
Maybe it’s from a friend? But there was no special occasion, either in the recent past or coming up, to justify a gift. And I’m sure they would tell me to expect a delivery. Living alone, there’s nobody else in the house that I could ask.
Then a thought occurred to me - what if I’m not the only one in the street to have received an unexpected package?
I ran out the door and walked a few houses either side of my house looking at other’s doorsteps. Nothing. So, just me then. Great.
Sitting back down at the kitchen counter, I inspected the package closely for any clues, but there wasn’t much of note. It was a plain cardboard box about the size of a shoe box, with clear tape keeping the contents inside, and with a plain printed label with my address on it and the words “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL 7PM”.
And it had some weight to it.
But no postage mark. This package was hand delivered! This had to mean something.
The person clearly knows where I live. So, I must know them. Right? Or maybe they know me. Hmm. This is taking a turn I’m not liking.
I’d heard of the games kids played where they would put some “nasties” in a box or bag, drop it on someone’s doorstep, light it on fire, ring the doorbell and run and hide. The idea was that the person opening the door would react by stamping on the fire, thus covering their legs with whatever the box or bag contained.
Nasty. And childish. Plus my package wasn’t on fire. Thankfully.
I don’t have any cameras on my home but maybe my neighbours do. We had a spate of bins being taken on bin night and ending up streets away. Some neighbours decided to install cameras and catch the culprits. Sure, the cameras caught the offenders, but to catch them in the act someone needed to stay up all night watching and waiting. Calling the police and having them do more frequent patrols around the neighbourhood proved to be the smarter approach.
I went for another walk but across the street this time. If not security cameras, maybe someone would have a doorbell camera. Mrs Murphy, 4 houses down, had one! I knocked on her door but there was no answer. I knocked again. Nothing. Seriously? Is anything gonna go my way today? I’ll come back later.
I kept walking to the end of the street and back up again. There were no other packages sitting on any doorsteps. And as I work from home and most of my neighbours don’t, I doubt they would’ve already collected their mail as it was early afternoon.
I sat on the sofa somewhat dejected. I looked at the old clock on the mantle, next to the photo of me, Josh and Kenny from college. We were thick as thieves back then. In more ways than one.
1:30PM. Plenty of time between now and 7PM. But to do what? There’s no sender details, and no clue where it came from or what it is.
I have 2 options - continue to investigate with limited information and get frustrated or wait until 7PM.
2:45…3:37…4:51…this waiting around is killing me!
Surely Mrs Murphy would be home by now. I rushed over to her house again and knocked. Twice. The door opened and Mrs Murphy peered out.
I explained what had happened, and she saw how freaked out I was about it all, and she agreed to show me the video from her doorbell camera on her phone. Tech savvy was not something I associated with this 60 year old lady, but here we are.
The video was grainy, of course, but I could see a light coloured sedan stop in front of my house and someone got out of the car wearing a blue hoodie and carrying that package. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman.
About 30 seconds later the person got back in the car and drove away down the street. I couldn’t make out the licence plate or which direction they turned. It was not gonna be that easy.
Now I knew how the package came to be at my doorstep, but not who delivered it or why. And it was still only 5:15.
The next 2 hours felt like 10. They were agonising. Brutal, if I’m honest. And for what? Me waiting to open an unknown package because it said to wait until 7PM. Why was I following these instructions?
I switched off all the lights in the house. If something was coming, I wasn’t gonna make it easy.
6:58…6:59…7…finally!
I picked up a boning knife and sliced the tape carefully. Putting the knife down, I folded back the two long edges of the box and then the end flaps. Inside was a folded piece of paper over something cylindrical in bubblewrap.
I heard a car pull up outside and a car door open and close. Probably my neighbour coming home from work. She worked odd hours.
I unfolded the note and stood.
“Did you think I would forget?” Forget what? What the hell was going on?
I started unrolling the bubblewrap.
There was a knock at the door. It startled me.
A bottle of wine? Grange. Expensive. I’m confused.
I went over and cautiously opened the door. A familiar face greeted me.
“Josh?”
“I told you I wouldn’t forget. I hope you enjoyed the wine.”
Looking down the barrel of the gun now, it all came flooding back.
