The Last Parcel Up the Mountain

Xavi worked at a post office in a mountain town. He sorted letters every morning. He loved his job. But he loved Fridays most. On Fridays he took the mail to the high farms.

The road was too steep for a van. So Xavi walked. A grey mule named Cora carried the bags. She was slow, but she was strong.

On this Friday there was only one parcel left. It was small and square. The name on it said, "Lia Marsh, Top Hut."

"Top Hut is far," said the clerk. "Maybe you can go on Monday."

Xavi read the card on the parcel. It said, "Happy birthday, Lia! Today you are nine."

"Today?" said Xavi. "No. It cannot wait."

He put the parcel in a bag. He called Cora. They left the post office at noon.

The path went up through the trees. The air was cool. Birds sang above them. Xavi sang too, but not well. Cora flapped one ear.

After an hour they came to the river. The water was fast and white. A wooden bridge crossed it. But today one board was gone in the middle.

Xavi stopped. He looked at the gap. It was wide.

"Not good," he said. "Cora, can you jump?"

Cora looked at him. She did not move.

"I think not," said Xavi.

He looked up the river. Higher up, there were big flat stones in the water. They made a path from one side to the other.

"Stepping stones," he said. "We can try."

He took off his boots. He tied them on Cora's bag. The first stone was cold and wet. He stepped on it. He held Cora's rope. She came after him, one careful foot at a time.

Step by step they crossed. Once Xavi slipped. His foot went into the water to the knee. He laughed and stood up again. At last they reached the far side.

"We did it," he said. He patted Cora's neck.

Then the fog came. It rolled down the mountain like white smoke. Soon Xavi could not see the path. He could only see Cora's grey ears.

"Slowly," he said. "Stay near me."

They walked and listened. After a while he heard a faint sound. It was a bell. A goat bell, high up and to the left.

"A farm," said Xavi. "Come."

They followed the bell. The ground turned flat. A small stone wall appeared. Behind it stood a wooden house with a red door.

It was four o'clock. The sun was low and gold. The fog was only in the valley now.

A girl stood at the gate with her arms crossed. She was small and serious. She had a paper hat on her head.

"You are the postman," she said.

"I am," said Xavi. His socks were wet. "Are you Lia?"

"Yes. I am nine today. My uncle said that nobody comes on Fridays after noon."

Xavi took the parcel out of the bag. "Somebody does."

Lia took it with both hands. She looked at Xavi. Then she looked at Cora. She did not say thank you. She ran inside and shouted for her mother.

Xavi sat down on the wall. He took off his wet socks. Cora ate the grass by the gate.

The red door opened again. Lia came out with a big piece of cake.