Wrong Delivery

Today, as I skimmed through my mail, his name lit up like a 'REDUCED SPEED AHEAD' sign on the highway. He lives 6 trailers down from me on the opposite side of the road. I've seen him in passing, a short and stout man in his late 40's. He drives a Dodge Ram truck and he has a Cocker Spaniel. In the summer, he drives a shiny white motorcycle. The man's name is Richard Peeker. He is one of the poor, unfortunate souls with a name that taunts for life. I remember a girl in my kindergarten class by the name of Lucy Tight. Poor girl, now she probally suffers from an identity crisis. I guess it could be worse, his name could be Richard Pecker or Harry Dicker.
I should've written 'Delivered To Wrong Address' on the envelope and let the mailperson correct their mistake. But nooooooo, I decided to take the mail to the correct address myself.
Wrong-idea-light-pops-up.
Once before, out of the goodness of my heart, I returned a neighbor ladies credit card. I actually knocked on her door and said,
"You should call the postmaster because what if I wasn't an honest neighbor."
I expect my neighbors to do the same for me.
It was raining when I left the house with the good intention of rightfully delivering, the wrongfully delivered mail. I pulled my leather hood over my head and trotted off down the road. Actually, it wasn't too cold, the air had a spring-like ambiance to it. I leapt over a puddle and landed on Mr. Peeker's driveway. Against the pitter-patter of rain, I heard a sound. A muffled, whining-like, moaning sound. The walls of trailers are nothing but dry wall. I should've turned around but I stood there, trying to decipher the sound.
Is it a whining dog? or sex? or a helpless, kidnapped woman being tortured? Should I run home and call the police?
I stood there listening to this enigma like I had a nefarious-abracadabra-spell placed over me. I knew I had a decision to make, either I place the envelope ensconced in his doorway (I wasn't opening his mailbox, thats a federal offense) or I quickly run home. Time stood still, as I became a complete interloper.
Mother may I take 5 baby steps toward the door? Yes, you may. Now, I was about 5 giant steps away from the door. The sound continued and I could tell it was a human sound and not a dog.
Maybe I should knock on the door? But I was deterred by the thought of becoming his next victim.
Suddenly, a shadow appeared in the window, maybe he saw me?
Damn it and my altruistic nature. Honestly, could I save this woman? and why am I risking my safety over a frivolous piece if mail. Maybe, nothing is wrong and the Nancy Drew mysteries that I read as a child, are clouding my critical thinking skills. I could pull a ding-dong-ditch, drop the envelope and run. I was shaking, fighting the thoughts, trying to keep my equanimity.
Mother may I take 5 giant steps? Yes, you may.
I'm at the door and the sound I heard, made me gasp and jump 5 baby steps backward.
It was the sound of...an opening door.
He appeared equally as startled as I.
"Oh umm, I have your mail. I was just bringing it to you." I was shivering so hard that my teeth chattered as I spoke.
"I was just coming to check the mail, I'm expecting an important delivery."
He was standing partially behind the door but I could see he was wearing something black and leather, complete with a spiked necklace. I couldn't believe my eyes and I could barely stand on my legs.
"Dick, who are you talking to?" The womans voice, no longer a muffled moan.
"Well, here you are, sorry if I startled you." My arm extended toward the door he was going to open.
Opening in slow motion, he revealed his bare legs to me and let me tell you, either Mr.Peeker is a leaker or the rain got in my eyes.
Oh fuck, did he just wink at me. Blink, blink.