The Postcard Without a Street

Dov worked at the campsite shop for the summer. He sold ice, matches and fishing line. He also practiced his English on every guest.

His English was slow and careful. Sometimes it was also very funny. He said, "I speak English like a duck with a dictionary." He did not smile.

On a quiet morning, a woman came into the shop. Her name was Fenna. She had wet hair and a red nose. In her hand was a postcard.

"Please help me," she said. "I need to send this card today. But I have a small problem."

"I like problems," said Dov. "They are good for my English."

Fenna put the card on the counter. On the front was a picture of the river. On the back was a long message in blue pen. It was funny and a little wild.

"Dear sister," it said. "Happy birthday! Today I fell into a river. Not on purpose. A duck laughed at me."

"This is a good card," said Dov. "The duck is my favorite part."

"There is no address," said Fenna. "My sister moved to this country last month. I only know she lives in this town. My phone is dead, so I cannot look it up."

Dov looked at the card for a long time. "No address," he said. "This is a card for nobody."

"It is a card for my sister," said Fenna. "She just does not have a street."

"What do you know about the house?" Dov asked. He took a pencil. He felt like a very serious police officer.

Fenna thought hard. "She told me three things on the phone," she said. "The gate is yellow. The door is the color of a lemon. And there is a goat."

"A goat?" Dov put down the pencil. "In the garden?"

"In the garden. She says he is very famous."

"Which goat?" said Dov. "This town has eleven goats. But only one very important goat."

Fenna laughed. "How do you know which one is important?"

"Because he is on the town sign," said Dov. "And he eats paper."

"He eats paper?"

"Only the white kind," said Dov. "The post lady gives him a carrot every day. Then he does not follow her."

Fenna looked at the postcard in her hand. It was white. Her face became very serious.

"So I cannot just put it in that house's mailbox," she said.

"The goat will read your message first," said Dov.

They both laughed. A man came to buy ice. Dov gave him a bag and took his coins. The man left. Then Dov turned back to Fenna. He had a new look on his face.

"The goat lives on Mill Road," he said. "I know it. It is near my school. The yellow gate belongs to a woman with a trumpet."

"My sister plays the trumpet," said Fenna slowly. "She says her new neighbors hate it."

"Then it is her house," said Dov. "No other house on Mill Road has a lemon door."

Fenna put both hands on the counter. "You just found my sister," she said. "With a goat."

"With a goat and a little English," said Dov. He looked proud.

"Now the card can go in the mail," said Fenna. "A birthday card must come in the mail. It is more fun."

"I will write the address on the card," said Dov. "In my language. Then the post lady understands."

He took her pen. He wrote slowly, one letter at a time. First came the road, then the number, then the town. The number was fourteen. He knew it because it was painted on the gate.

"Is that all?" asked Fenna.

"One more thing," said Dov. He wrote a few more words at the bottom of the card. "This says, 'Not for the goat.'"

Fenna laughed so hard that she had to hold the counter.

"We need a stamp," said Dov. "I have stamps in the drawer. Stamps are the only thing here that is not wet."

He gave her a stamp. She put it on the corner of the card. Then she pressed it down.

"I owe you something," she said. "What can I give you?"

Dov thought. "Speak to me for ten minutes," he said. "Only English. Fast, like you always do. I want to hear it."

So Fenna talked. She told him about the river and the duck. Then she told him about her borrowed tent. She spoke fast and Dov listened with his whole face. Sometimes he did not understand. Then he asked, "What does 'borrow' mean?" She explained, and he wrote the word on his hand.

When ten minutes ended, the sun was high. Fenna picked up the card.

"The yellow mailbox is at the campsite gate," said Dov. "I walk with you."

They went out into the bright morning. The grass was warm. Near the river, a family played cards on a blanket. A small boat moved slowly along the far bank.

At the gate stood the yellow mailbox. Fenna held the card to her chest for a moment. Then she put it in.

It fell with a soft sound. Dov nodded. The hard job was finished.

On the river, a duck pulled a thin line across the water. Neither of them said anything for a while. Then Dov looked at his hand.

"Borrow," he said quietly, to practice. "Borrow, borrow, borrow."