Who is he?

He sat in the van and stared at the house. It was in the middle of the day, but he knew no one was watching. He didn’t care if they were. It didn’t matter. He had a job to do.

He was focused. He hardly noticed the bead of sweat as it slowly rolled down the right side of his face. The intense sun beat down upon the vehicle. The AC providing little relief. It didn’t matter. He had a job to do.

He never asked what was in the package. He never had to, and he never cared. He knew better than to ask. He knew what he had to do. He always knew. It didn’t matter. He had a job to do.

He wondered whether they were home. Then he noticed the green van in the driveway. There were toys strewn about in the front yard and considering it was the middle of July, it was likely the kids were home as well. It didn’t matter. He had a job to do.

He exited the vehicle, engine still running. He grabbed the package. It wasn’t heavy. He made his way towards the front door. No need to be subtle. As he approached the front door, he could hear children from the back side of the house. He continued towards the door without hesitation. It didn’t matter. He had a job to do.

He reached the porch and set the package next to the door so that there was nothing between it and whoever answered the door. He wanted them to see it. He needed them to see it. He pressed the doorbell, turned, and walk back towards his vehicle. Without guilt, without remorse, he climbed back into the vehicle and checked his list for his next stop. So many stops. It didn’t matter. He had a job to do.

He looked back towards the house and saw that a beautiful woman, probably in her mid-thirties, had come out and picked up the package. Without looking at the package, she looked directly at him. Their eyes met. The smile grew on her face, and she waved in his direction. He smiled and gave a slight nod. She turned and walked back into the house without a word spoken. It didn’t matter. He had a job to do.

He looked down at the emblem on his shirt, and then back to his list. He loved being the bearer of gifts. One down, dozens to go. It was going to be another long day. It didn’t matter. He had a job to do.