“Shane Barnes?” The delivery driver asked as I opened the front door.
I had a big letter box at the end of the driveway but it was clearly not large enough for the package the delivery driver held in his hands.
“Yep, that’s me.”
Although I was expecting the parcel I wasn’t entirely sure when it was arriving, tracking had it still in transit on a slow moving ship somewhere between Australia and the USA, but it wouldn’t be the first time online tracking was wrong.
“Just need a signature,” the delivery driver said as he pushed the box towards me, on top of the box was his hand held computer.
Having done the dance before I knew what was needed. I picked up his computer in my left hand, grabbed the stylus in my right and began to scribble something that resembled my name in on the line where the cursor flashed. The two of us then traded what was in our hands and went back to our respective tasks.
I walked back into my home office reading the label as I went. Despite what online tacking had told me when I checked last time the package in my hand had definitely come from America. It was a good solid cardboard box, about forty centimetres square and about twenty centimetres deep and I could tell by the name on the bottom next to the word “Sender” that it was from the person I was expecting a package from.
I sat at my desk and reached for the pocket knife to cut the package open. Although I knew the package was coming I didn’t know what was actually in the box. I know that sounds kind of weird but my slightly crazy American friend wouldn’t tell me what it was she was sending me all she would tell me was that it was something she hadn’t ever seen before and thought I would like it for my collection.
As the knife sliced through the tape and the top flaps of the box popped open my computer beeped alerting me to an incoming email. I was suppose to be working not thinking about parcels from a slightly crazy but downright fun American so I grabbed the edge of my desk and pulled my chair towards the keyboard. Waking the screen up with a move of the mouse I almost instantly found myself looking at my email client.
In a weirdly coincidental occurrence the email that had just arrived from was my slightly crazy but downright fun and entertaining American. The message was only short, nothing more than, “Hi, How’s things down under?” so it didn’t take long to read.
I quickly shot a reply back. “I’m good. Your parcel just arrived I’m about to open it. The intrigue is killing me.” I hit reply and pulled my chair back to the partially open box.
Folding the four flaps back completely I immediately saw a collection of packing foam, the parcel was packed by someone who wanted to make sure it arrived in one piece. I ratted out the small pieces of foam letting them scatter across the desk and onto the floor and within a few seconds was looking at a piece of folder paper. Lifting out the paper I could see from the indents that it was a hand written note, I could also see that the item underneath the note was wrapped in bubble wrap further protecting it. I opened the note.
I found this at a yard sale and immediately thought of you.
I wanted to see if it worked before I sent it but I couldn’t find anywhere to put the batteries.
I couldn’t even find anywhere to wind it up.
You know more about such things than I do so I really hope you can get it working and add it to your collection.
I honestly have never seen a clock like it.
I hope you like it.
As a collector of clocks for many years I was definitely intrigued as to what my slightly crazy but downright fun, entertaining and interesting American had sent me. I reached into the box gripped the bubble wrapped package and lifted it out spilling more packing beans onto the floor. I quickly unwrapped the bubble wrap and this is what I found.