Original subtitles

- Here you go, kid. - Thanks.

You know, I hear a lot of stories

come out of that backseat,

but yours is a doozy.

I haven't told anybody. I can't believe I told you.

Don't worry, honey. You're doing the right thing.

And mail that letter...

'cause life is short.

[Chuckles] I know.

But, um, I'm so late.

Could you... ?

Yeah.

No problem. All part of the service.

Taxi. Hey!

Uh, we're going to the Oxford.

Well, get in.

[*]

[Woman]: Okay, you're not going to believe this.

He missed the train.

I know.

No, he'll be okay.

He's going to catch the 2:00, so I'm just letting you know.

I'm fine.

But you'll have to keep everybody there until we get back.

Sorry.

Could I mail this letter?

Yeah, whatever.

I don't know.

You can feed them whenever.

Perfect. And there's some salsa in the fridge.

Do you know...

[*]

Yeah. Okay.

That's great...

[Oliver]: Sometimes, I wonder who mailed the first letter.

Who was that brave soul who put a stamp on an envelope,

and released it into the world,

trusting a stranger

to deliver it across the miles and across time.

In this new world of instant replies

and casual deleting,

what I love about my work is,

I can hold a letter, a real letter, in my hand,

and be that stranger whose sole mission...

Next!

Yes. Uh...

I'd like a cup of coffee.

"Aspen," "vail," or "steamboat"?

I'm sorry, I'm not following?

Small, medium, or large?

Oh, large. Large coffee.

Right. Uh... which coffee?

Uh, what do you recommend?

Everything's on the board.

This is my first visit.

Frankly, I wouldn't be here at all

if my coffee machine hadn't been illegally appropriated

after an unfortunate war of words with my superior.

Well, I wouldn't call her my superior exac...

Excuse me?

Could I just give him my order while you're reminiscing?

I'll even pay for your coffee,

if you just let me go ahead of you.

Be my guest.

Sorry. It's just I'm late, it's my first day at my new job.

Well, at least you're employed.

Aspen "skinny" vanilla latte.

Instead of just sitting over there

staring off into cyberspace.

He'll have a steamboat americano.

What is that?

Large black coffee.

Ah!

Most of those people actually are employed.

They're just working from home.

Theoretically.

And someone pays them? Theoretically?

Aspen skinny vanilla latte...

And a steamboat americano.

Gotta go. Keep the change.

Thanks.

There it is...

A beacon of hope to those who still put their faith

in the power of a piece of paper

and a 46-cent stamp.

And behind every letter

stand thousands of dedicated heroes,

who still fight the good fight through rain and snow

and fiscal cliffs

to deliver every note, every card, every letter.

Morning, Norman.

Morning, Oliver.

[Oliver]: And I am one of them...

The few... The proud...

The postal.

I work for you, whoever you are,

or whoever you were.

I told you, this is a mistake.

I'm supposed to be assigned to direct line operations

as a technical systems consultant.

It says right here that you are D.L.O.

Yeah. "Direct line operations."

That's what Washington is now calling

computer-managed delivery services.

Well, we're still calling it the "dead letter office."

Look, if you just call the PG's office...

- ... in Washington and... - That's a good idea.

I'll call the postmaster general

right after I return that call from the Secretary of Defense.

Okay. This is ridiculous.

I don't belong here.

You wait right here.

Oliver!

I want you to train this girl.

She's a computer-something from Washington.

- No. - I will fire you.

I have a government service pay level

higher than you can count.

I will take away your refrigerator.

You will return my Mr. Coffee.

[Clears her throat]

- Done. - Send her in.

Mclnerney!

It's you.

Mr. Steamboat. Incredible.

You know each other?

[Both at same time]: Theoretically.

[*]

Rita, Norman... our ranks have been increased.

This is...

This is... ?

Is?

I'm Shane Mclnerney.

[Oliver scoffs]

I can't work with someone named Shane.

Norman?

Tell her why.

I got it. Because, uh, at some point,

you, Shane, will walk away,

and Oliver will need you to... return?

Very good, go on.

And Oliver will be forced to say...

[Theatrically]: "Shane! Come back, Shane!"

At which point, you will look at me

with much the same vacancy with which you stare at me now,

utterly unaware

of the unfortunate cinematic reference.

Therefore, I shall call you...

Tsk...

[Takes a breath]

"Sheryl."

Sheryl?

Well... [chuckles] I'm just here temporarily...

And how wise of you

to realize such a great truth so early on in life.

What I mean is, there's been a mistake.

A merry mix-up, perhaps.

A mistake? Well, we shall see.

Rita, please file this in a safe place.

A photographic memory is a plus in this business.

I believe there are no coincidences, Ms. Mclnerney.

Coincidence is the middle name of the almighty.

You did that?

No. But it is a standard to which we aspire,

and, one day, we, too, shall join

the pantheon of postal excellence. Hmm?

Every letter

that passes through the United States postal system

represents an act of faith.

Faith that it will reach its destination

on time and in good condition.

Faith that what was written by the writer

shall remain private until read by the... ?

Write-ee?

This is a sacred covenant

that, if broken, signals what?

Norman?

"The breakdown of civilization and the beginning of anarchy."

This is why we attempt to ascertain the correct address

using clues on the outside of the envelope

until we have no other choice.

And it is that moment when we decide

to open the letter.

We do it reverently, respectfully,

much like a medical student performing a first autopsy.

Oh, God help me.

We read only as far as we must,

gleaning and gathering clues as to the correct destination.

This...

Is a high calling, indeed, Sheryl.

Shane. It's Shane.

Now it's time for some real work.

[*]

[Exhales deeply]

Ah. First name intact.

Thomas.

P-e-r... something.

Uh, card has been ripped by... [Sniffing]

Canine.

Seattle postmark.

Not a birthday card.

Not a sympathy card.

I'm guessing...

"Thinking of you."

Alright...

We're going in.

[*]

Mclnerney.

Guess what?

There is something in the system called direct line operations.

- I know. - But it's not here...

It's in northglenn.

Great! I'm on my way.

Nah. Not so fast, missy.

You gotta apply for reassignment

and keep working here for six weeks

before we approve you for transfer.

[Laughing] Transfer?

You're joking... right?

[Sighs]

[Pen scratching page]

[Door creaks open]

[Oliver]: Hard to believe she was once

"miss special delivery" of 1999, hmm?

Shall we continue?

[*]

"Let's catch up.

Dropped by 'Curios' yesterday, but you were on a break, so... "

Norman?

"Curios." I'm on it.

You guys do know

that we are in the 21st century, right?

Better look at "antique stores"

and "gift shops" as well.

No, I've got this. Googling "Curios, Seattle."

Curios antiques.

Proprietor: Thomas Perkins.

"P-e-r."

That's impressive.

Child's play.

[*]

Thank you, Rita.

[Vacuum whooshes]

Moving on.

So, what, you just reach in and grab one?

There's no system? No protocol?

Well, as I said, there's

something divine at work here, Ms. Mclnerney.

We do not find the letters that must be found today.

They find us.

And you really believe that?

Take today, for example.

Of all the coffee shops

in all the towns in all the world...

- You walked into mine. - Yes! And just as

everything in the dead letter office

was originally intended for someplace else,

and yet, for some providential reason,

they have been misdirected.

Temporarily, of course.

Not unlike you.

[*]

- But I... - Shh...

It's happening.

Norman, get your pencil, please.

Addressed to "Charlie," no surname.

Reply reads simply,

"Kelly from Washington Park."

Mm. 45-cent bicycle commemorative.

I used to ride bikes in Washington Park all the time!

There's a funny little man there

named "Stumpy," he rents schwinns.

[Oliver]: So a sentimental stamp choice, then?

Yes.

She enclosed something here.

Norman, a consult, please?

Ah. Yeah. Well, the handwriting indicates

a female in her 20s.

Usually confident,

recently troubled,

indicated by bold figures,

tempered with tentative strokes.

A letter written in a hurry.

[*]

"June 26th.

Dear Charlie... "

Postmark's may 22nd.

This letter's almost a year old.

It never entered the system.

Until a week ago?

A floater.

- We have a floater! - "Dear Charlie...

I wanted to be sure you got your button back.

And I wanted to explain about last night."

Oh, dear.

Another one of those "I can explain everything" apologetics,

replete with the return of an article of clothing.

These letters are usually accompanied by

liberal references to jell-o shots and Tequila.

Well, so much for divine intervention.

"Dear Charlie,

I wanted to be sure you got your button back.

I wanted to explain about last night.

Walking away... " [Voice trails off]

Oh, good heavens.

[*]

"Walking away and leaving you standing in the park

was the hardest thing I've ever done,

except to tell you what I'm going to say next.

I had to leave

"because I couldn't let you

watch me die."

Norman...

I think I'm gonna need another Yoo-hoo.

[*]

What is that?

[Rita]: Yoo-hoo.

He hardly ever has two before noon.

I once met the president of the Yoo-hoo company

on a bus trip to Mexico.

Okay. Now where were we?

Um, "I had to leave

because I couldn't let you watch me die."

Uh... oh, yes. Here we are.

"The truth is, I'm sick... "

[Kelly, writing]: "... I'm really sick, Charlie,

and for the longest time,

all I've been thinking about is just trying to stay alive.

And then, yesterday,

I stepped into that elevator, and there you were."

Sorry. We're going up.

Looks like all the way.

Oh, well. Doesn't really matter.

It's a nice ride, though.

You get to stop at all the best floors.

[Doors ding]

Well, not all the best floors.

Charlie, is that you back there?

Good morning, Mr. Cameron.

You get my cinnamon cruller?

Uh, yes, sir.

And the Colombian supremo,

not that junk from Ecuador you got yesterday?

Mm-hmm.

You know, you're never gonna make it

in mergers and acquisitions

if you can't even take a decent coffee order, pal.

[Derisive laughter]

Colombian. I got it.

Make sure it's up on the 17th by the time I get there.

Oh... And, uh, Charlie?

Try not to screw up like you usually do.

Okay? I'm meeting that new vp today,

and I hear she likes her donuts.

I bet she's a pig, huh?

Actually, I like bagels,

but, um, I can buy them for myself, right, Charlie?

[Laughing]

Did you see the look on his face?

[Chuckling]

So you're the new vice-president?

Uh, pfft, no. Do I look like a vice-president?

No, you look beautiful.

[Stammers] I, um...

Uh, I mean, you look... You look great.

Well, I hope I don't get you in trouble.

I just couldn't resist.

You actually work for that jerk?

Yeah, and three more just like him.

Sorry to hear that.

Yeah, well, you learn something from everybody,

even if it's what not to do.

That's a great attitude.

Want a doughnut?

Thanks, but I actually do prefer bagels.

I'm supposed to stay off sugar while I'm...

[Elevator dings]

Ooh. Ah, 17.

Thanks again.

That's the best laugh I've had all week.

Maybe all month. Maybe all year.

Uh, Charlie?

You deserve better.

Life is short.

Yeah, but, uh, sometimes, the days are really long.

Oh! Hey. What's your name?

Kelly!

A nice Irish name, Kelly with a "y."

And correctly spelled. Look at that.

Why do parents insist on being unnecessarily creative these days?

"Kelli" with an "i", "Kellie" with "i-e", "Kellye" with "y-e".

So he just left her in the elevator?

Uh, yes.

[Elevator dings]

[*]

Hey!

- Hi. - Kelly.

Going down?

All the way. I just quit.

Whoo! Free at last! Free at last!

Was it really that bad?

Ah! It was so bad,

I told myself this morning

if a beautiful girl doesn't walk into this elevator

and rescue me, I am riding all the way to the top

and I am jumping off. Doughnuts, coffee and all.

Colombian coffee, I hope.

Absolutely.

Well, congratulations.

I hope you find another job that you like.

That's tomorrow.

Today, I am taking you out for a bagel.

Oh, I don't know.

What? You gotta work?

Well, no, but...

Well, come on!

You just saved a man's life.

In some cultures,

that makes me responsible for you.

Actually, I think it's the other way around.

Even better. How can you say "no" now?

But I didn't save your life.

It takes a lot more than that to save a life.

Are you kidding me?

If it wasn't for you, I'd be still up there,

handing out crullers to Miller, Miller, Miller, and Schwartz.

Well, not Schwartz. He's glucose-intolerant.

[Chuckles]

[Kelly]: "The truth is, Charlie,

"I don't know who saved whose life that day.

You may have saved mine. I won't know for awhile... "

[Oliver]: "... For awhile, but I'll always cherish

the day you quit Miller, Miller, Miller, and Schwartz... "

There you go.

What are you doing?

Keep going.

Oh, there's no need.

"Miller, Miller, Miller, and Schwartz." Rita?

Oh! Mergers and acquisitions.

The Colorado bank building. 9424 Lincoln Street.

We send their human relations office a form 407B,

requesting the names of terminations

on June 26th of last year

with the first name "Charles" or "Charlie."

What about Kelly?

What is she dying of? Is she going to live?

Reading any further than necessary

violates the prime directive.

You've got to be kidding!

He's not kidding.

We don't kid. We're not kidders.

You know darn well it'll take weeks before some drone in hr

pulls out a bunch of old employment records

to help out the U.S. post office.

Meanwhile, Charlie is out there somewhere,

wondering why the girl of his dreams blew him off

when they were so obviously falling in love.

There is nothing in here that indicates they were in love.

Everything in that letter so far

indicates that they were falling in love!

Right, Rita?

Oh, I-I-I...

I've never actually been in...

Not when the...

Not when the other person was in it at the same time, so...

[Norman]: I, uh, read a book once

on chemical changes in baboons,

suggesting that apes experience certain emotional

connections similar to human love.

Thank you.

Why don't you bring that in tomorrow?

[Clicks pen]

Okay.

Look, if-if there's a chance

that reading one more line could give us a truly solid shot

at redirecting that letter to poor Charlie, then...

Then don't we owe it to him?

And to Kelly?

I mean, "of all the elevators

in all the towns in all the world... "

"We?"

You mean "us," Ms. Mclnerney?

Or could it be that you've already taken

our little enterprise into your heart?

That's very touching, but the answer is no.

[*]

Ahem.

I've heard of cop bars and sports bars and mafia bars.

Never been to a postal bar.

Everyone needs a place

to decompress with their peers.

Actually, uh, these are not my peers,

but they are clearly yours,

and I thought you might enjoy it here.

Aren't you a charmer?

Hey, Shane!

Hey, you spell Mclnerney with an M-C, right?

Uh, yeah.

Ohh!

Excellent. I have a surprise for you.

Rita is a connoisseur of the carefully-crafted daiquiri.

Barkeep, a gin rickey, please? Hold the rickey.

Make that two. Oh! Do you have wings?

Miller, Miller, Miller, and Schwartz were sued for fraud

and went out of business six months ago.

Well, so much for our only lead.

I don't know, you could've just let me look this Charlie guy up

and it would've taken me 30 seconds.

This is not a race we run, Ms. Mclnerney.

It is a journey.

It is a job, Oliver!

You deliver one letter, and the next day,

there are a hundred more to take its place.

It's a losing battle, an exercise in futility.

It's not some woo-woo spiritual journey.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

It's not Horatio, it's Sheryl.

It's Shane!

It's Shakespeare, peasants.

You may lack a sense of destiny,

but you have one characteristic that, if carefully cultivated,

could be helpful.

It's something I like to call curiosity.

Mm.

You wanted to know why we're here?

[*]

I can explain.

Okay, I can't explain,

but I can tell you that I didn't read it,

so, technically...

Unauthorized removal is a cross violation, regulation 67K.

Yes, it is.

But in this case... a convenient one.

What?

I thought you never broke the rules.

Apparently, we have you to do that for us.

I, however, on occasion, must bend the law

in order to fulfill the spirit of the law.

Norman, please retrieve Rita. She won't want to miss this.

Nuts?

Thank you.

For what?

For outing me here and not back at the office,

in front of Andrea.

I prefer to do as little as possible

in front of Andrea.

[*]

Welcome, Rita.

I assume you remember where we left off?

[Rita sighs wistfully]

"I'll always cherish the memory of... "

- "That day... " - Oh, here it is.

"... when we met

and tried so hard not to fall in love."

There's an art to the perfect

bagel and lox combo.

Okay.

You got your onions, tomatoes, cream cheese,

all your major food groups.

You eat one of these, you're good for the day?

Oh, yeah.

And these are... ?

Ah. Capers. The key to the whole enterprise.

Ah! Uh-oh.

The secret is,

you sort of...

Glue the caper into the cheese,

that way, they don't roll off.

And then the salmon,

then the tomato...

And the onion.

And...

[*]

You've... You've got some...

Right...

There.

[Charlie chuckles]

Great nose, by the way.

People probably tell you that a lot, right?

Your boyfriend, probably.

You know, forget that.

That's... that's too much information for a first date.

This is a... date, right?

Sort of?

I have a proposition.

Yes.

Whatever it is...

Yes.

So, no last names?

Right.

No emails, no phone numbers, no texting?

No tweets.

We just spend one day together,

say whatever we want to say

with no fear, no judgment,

because we won't see each other again.

Yeah, see,

that's the part I'm having trouble with.

Well, think about it.

I mean, one day

when you don't have to worry about

what you do or say will affect tomorrow.

We're just living...

Right now,

today.

Is this part of your "life is short" philosophy?

Are you in or out?

No texting, no tweeting... A girl after my own heart.

What about Charlie? Is he in or is he out?

Well, from the length of this letter,

I assume he bought into the unorthodox plan,

but if the last pages yield as few clues

as the first pages,

we're gonna be hard-pressed to find the writer.

Or the writee.

- I've got an idea. - Oh, happy day.

In the letter, it says that they went to a park together, right?

"Kelly, from Washington Park." Yeah.

I have a proposition.

No.

Whatever it is, no.

She used a bicycle stamp,

and you said that she was sentimental, right?

I bet they went to that park and rented bikes

from Rita's little old man.

- Schwinns. - Schwinns!

Oh! Schwinns.

I propose... We go to the park tomorrow,

on our lunch break, and talk to him.

This is...

Highly irregular.

We're looking for clues in a love letter

that aren't all going to be in the letter.

Yeah, and some of us could really use some fresh air.

Yeah, Oliver!

Are you in or are you out?

[Sighs]: Oh. Oh, no.

I can't believe this.

He used to sit right here and now he's been replaced by...

By this.

Another dreadful example of unnecessary automation.

Well, shall we continue?

Read on, macduff.

Shakespeare.

"I know I gave you a pretty crazy reason

for only spending one day together, Charlie... "

[Kelly]: "But the truth is, I only had one day to spend.

But spending it with you made all the difference."

[*]

This song's for you

if we come to a close

and keep it somewhere deep inside your soul

it's true, we met in such turbulent times

but I want you to know you're the brightest star

I've seen in the sky

Oh! I wasn't done yet.

This song's for you when you're feeling down

let the words put your feet on the ground

[Chatting happily]

Remember me as a warm July

and I'll look for you

as the biggest blue-eyed star in the sky

When I was in sixth grade,

I used to cross this bridge every day

on the way to school.

Hey, careful. No historical details.

I know, I know.

But you see this creek?

All the kids would swing across

on that rope

instead of taking the bridge.

But you took the bridge?

I tried to swing across at first.

I'd grab the rope, but...

Something always made me put on the brakes

at the last second.

God, it was embarrassing.

All the kids would be on the other side,

yelling, "come on, Charlie! You can do it."

But?

But I never did.

After awhile, they stopped expecting me to even try.

So do it today.

What?

Swing! What are you waiting for?

Ditch your pride.

Okay.

You wait here.

And don't distract me.

- Alright. - And no cameras.

Hey, you may want a record of this someday.

Someday?

Now, if there's a chance we could have a "someday,"

that's worth risking my life for.

Or my pride.

Three! Two! One...

- [Roaring]: Ahh! - Yes!

Whoo! [Laughing victoriously]

Yes! Whoo!

- Yeah! - Oof!

- [Both gasping] - [Thudding]

- Are you alright? - Yeah, I'm good.

Sorry!

[Resumes laughing] Yes!

Whoo! That was amazing!

- Are you okay? - Did you see that? Yeah!

Pride goes before a fall, I guess.

You lost a button, though.

A small sacrifice

for the leap of a lifetime.

Well, you were awfully nice to that guy,

considering he knocked you down.

Well, life is short.

That was so fun!

[Contented sigh] Ah! Whoo!

[Kelly, writing]: "I think that was the moment

I realized how much I wanted to live.

How much I needed to believe in a "someday" with you in it.

Maybe that's how it feels to fall in love, Charlie...

When you can't wait for tomorrow."

I just want to take a couple of pictures.

It's so pretty here.

Go for it.

[*]

So, am I ever gonna see any of these pictures?

I mean, if we're not gonna see each other again,

you could at least upload them

to the Charlie-and-Kelly website.

Oh, now you want me to break the rule?

Why do you like taking pictures?

Uh, let me see.

Well, um...

I know, in some cultures,

people think taking a photograph of something

is like stealing a piece of its soul.

But for me,

taking a picture of someone or something is a way to...

I don't know... To honor a soul.

It's my way of saying,

"here you are, tree...

Here you are, sky...

Here you are, Charlie."

And... For just a moment

I get to stop time and really see you.

[Shutter snaps]

[Chuckles]

What? What are you thinking?

I'm just reading this article here

about "Roger Piperson, age 61,"

a baker who won the lottery last week.

I bet everybody thinks

he's the luckiest guy in the world.

And yesterday, I would have, too.

But today,

I think the luckiest guy in the world

is me.

Click.

[Norman]: Uh, on the other side of this park,

there is an exact replica of Martha Washington's garden

at Mount Vernon, Virginia.

I'm a direct descendant of George Washington's accountant.

I don't see the purpose in continuing this field trip.

Just a little bit longer, Oliver, please?

Just read a little bit more.

There's got to be something in that letter that will help us

if we put ourselves in Charlie and Kelly's place.

I am not going to swing across the creek.

Fine.

And tomorrow, everything goes back to normal.

Mm-hmm. If that's what you consider normal.

[Sighs]

"I wanted to tell you everything

right then, Charlie... "

But I didn't want to break the spell."

[Kelly]: "I've always been good at putting off the hard stuff."

[Shutter snaps]

I think we ought to do something.

Something to commemorate this day.

Something that makes a difference.

We could get married.

Tempting, but I don't marry on the first date.

Good point.

Alright. Uh...

Let's see.

I got it!

You saved my life today.

Let's save some more.

[Kelly]: You want to give blood?

Yeah. They give you cookies,

and you get to lie down, and it's free.

I don't really give blood anymore, so.

Come on! They do it once a year here in the park

and it makes you feel great.

You won't swing across a creek, but needles are no problem?

I know. Go figure.

I used to do it all the time in college.

I think I still have my old donor card...

What's the matter?

Oh, man. I think I, uh...

I think I lost my wallet.

[Kelly sighs]

I can't believe you lost your job and your wallet on the same day.

Found your button, though.

To be accurate, I quit my job.

I did lose my wallet,

but I found the girl of my dreams,

so I think it all balances out.

Except...

When I wake up tomorrow morning

and realize that I lost the girl.

I'm sorry, Charlie, it just...

It has to be this way.

Promise me...

You'll go home tonight,

and you'll sew this button back on your blazer

and you'll find yourself the job of your dreams

and you'll meet somebody wonderful

and have lots of babies and grandchildren,

and make dozens of paper boats for them

every time you take them for walks in the park,

and when you set them sailing,

you'll think of me.

Or you could come by tomorrow and sew the button on yourself.

[Chuckles sadly]

Are you trying to tell me you can't sew?

I don't think I could do anything without you now, Kelly.

[*]

One more thing.

Okay? Just one more.

If you swing really high...

Over the trees...

You see the big apartment building?

I see it.

Okay, now look to the right.

You see the rooftops?

You see 'em?

- Yep! - Okay.

Now look for a blue gate with a flag above it.

Yes! There it is. I saw it.

That's me. The blue gate.

That's where I live.

Char... You're breaking the rule!

Yeah, well, you're breaking my heart.

Come on, promise me that tomorrow morning

I'm gonna wake up, and you'll be sitting on my front steps.

Charlie, I...

You're not comin' down until you do!

[Kelly yelps and laughs]

Higher!

- There it is! - What? The blue gate?

Yeah! The blue gate.

Let's go.

Wait!

Did Kelly go?

Did she show up tomorrow... Last year?

It's not up to us to decide what...

[Sighs]

"And then even though I wanted to come back

and find you there,

waiting for me on the steps by the blue gate,

I couldn't."

Ohh. That's very disappointing.

"But I can explain.

With all my talk about courage,

you were the one who took the big leap yesterday

and now it's my turn.

I'm going to do what I have to do to get myself well.

If it works,

let's meet a year from today,

on the 26th, and we'll go on a second date.

But if I'm not there waiting for you at the bridge at 6:00,

you'll know it's only because the leap I had to make

was just too far.

Whatever happens, Charlie,

sew this button on and go out into the world.

And if you ever want to spend that day with me again,

just remember how it started.

Just remember... Life is short.

Love, Kelly."

Oh, man! What's today?

The 23rd. Oh, wow...

Charlie has no idea they're supposed to meet in three days.

That's assuming she took the leap...

Made it to the other side.

[*]

Well, I don't see another house on this block

with a blue gate and a flag.

Who's gonna knock?

There will be no knocking.

We have the address now,

so we go back to the office,

follow procedure,

before we get into trouble.

Seriously, we're here, let's just go and...

That's unacceptable, Ms. Mclnerney.

Besides, I thought you would welcome

the opportunity to show us

what that fancy laptop of yours can do.

[*]

[Keys clacking]

[Shane]: Here's the door...

[Norman]: Ah! There's the blue gate.

Cool!

Last-known occupant Charles...

- Charlie Riggs. - Charlie.

[Keys clacking]

So I guess we can't, uh,

write "good luck" on the back of it, huh?

We re-address it and re-package it

with a form explaining

why the letter was opened in the first place.

Wait. You're gonna mail it?

We've pushed the limits of protocol enough already.

No, no, no. They only have three days!

Are you questioning the efficiency of this facility?

Well, if the envelope fits!

[Oliver chuckles]

Okay, what if, by some

incomprehensible twist of fate,

it takes the U.S. post office more than three days

to deliver a simple letter?

And, in the meantime, Kelly shows up...

And she waits...

And waits...

And she waits,

but he never comes,

and so she's standing there,

on the bridge,

alone,

wondering how he could just leave her there,

after she said she loves him so much?

I admire your passion, Ms. Mclnerney,

but our job is to simply revive a dead letter

and send it along.

And, yes, there are times when we wonder

what will become of those who receive them,

but we are the United States post office.

We cannot play God.

You said you don't believe in coincidences.

What if you had pulled a green envelope out of there,

instead of that pink one?

Then Charlie and Kelly would never have had a chance.

But now they do.

You're impeccable at your job, Oliver.

But what about your job as a fellow human being

who's been given the opportunity to change someone's life?

We may never know the whole truth about a letter

or what happens to it once it leaves us,

Ms. Mclnerney,

but I believe absolutely

that what we do here does makes a difference.

It is our responsibility

to glean the truth from a lost letter,

and tomorrow, because we have done our work well,

that truth will be delivered to Mr. Riggs...

A year late, or, hopefully, right on time.

But it's not up to us anymore.

[Shane sighs] Oliver... Oliver, please.

[Chute whooshing]

[*]

Norman!

Where's Oliver?

Uh, on the floor.

I was just on the floor. He's not there.

On the floor somewhere else maybe?

Get those processed before the decade's out, will ya?

Hey! Fancy-pants.

The transfer you put in for?

It's gonna take 10 weeks.

10 weeks?

I can't believe this.

[Fuming groan]

Hey! You remember

that surprise that I was telling you about?

The last 24 hours have been nothing but surprises,

but please, go on.

Well, I knew

that I had seen your name somewhere,

and it was on a letter, a dead letter

that was entered into the system

14 months ago, on April 28th,

which is two days before your birthday.

How did you know that?

Because I read your file, remember?

So it's gotta be a birthday card.

Where is it?

I mailed it to you.

You mailed it? I work here.

You could've just handed it to me.

Standard procedure, Ms. Mclnerney.

Procedure? Right.

It was my birthday card from...

Who was it from?

Oh. "Return address obscured."

So where did you mail it?

To here. Care of dead letters.

You people are crazy.

A popular theory. Coffee?

Your coffee is swill

and I'm wasting my time here.

The coffee, I grant you, needs improvement,

but I take exception to the idea

that your time here is wasted.

My time, my career, my life!

I understand. You're upset.

I'm upset? You think?

See if you can understand this...

I quit.

[Footsteps receding]

Shane?

Come back, Shane!

Oh, dear.

Uh...

Well, there it is.

I believe I've accrued a bit of vacation time,

13 weeks,

6 days.

I may take a few minutes of those now.

[*]

That is so sweet.

- What? - He's going after her.

Going after her what?

[*]

[Bicycle bell dings]

[*]

[*]

[Laughs]

Really?

Gave you 15 minutes to walk to the park,

factored in another 10 for aimless wandering,

which gave me 25 minutes

to order your skinny vanilla latte

and deliver it, still hot, by the time you showed up.

So you think I am that predictable, hmm?

No. I think you're that invested in your work,

and an employee with that much commitment

should not be allowed to self-terminate,

or drink sub-standard swill, for that matter.

[Cups bonk]

Thank you.

My pleasure.

Shouldn't be long now.

Mailman's around the corner.

Just think.

In five minutes,

he could be opening up a letter,

and finding out that he has

a date on Friday

with the love of his life.

Or perhaps he has since met

a waitress from olive garden,

and is expecting twins,

and taken up work

as a grouter of bathroom tile.

Mm-mm, no. Not a chance. Not our Charlie.

Oh. [Chuckles]

Mm. There it is.

[*]

[Shane sighs wistfully]

Once again, civilization prevails.

Wait, wait. Don't you want to see him...

Open it...

[*]

[Shane]: Who is that?

Wait...

What is she doing?

What is she doing?

What is she doing?

Uh... excuse me!

Miss mc...

Uh, excuse me!

Hi! Uh... ma'am?

Uh, excuse me? Um... hello.

I am from the United States postal service.

I'm a direct line operations systems consultant,

and I am conducting a...

Mail investigation.

I don't get it.

You just removed that envelope from the mailbox.

So? You don't have to make a federal case out of it.

Actually, mail theft is a federal case, ma'am.

[Laughs] I'm not stealing it.

I'm returning it.

Charlie Riggs has been gone for a year,

and I don't think he's coming back.

I'm going to have to confiscate this.

Confiscate away, honey.

Thank you.

What?

[Sighs quietly]

What are you doing with that letter? You can't just...

Read it.

[*]

[Norman]: What do you mean he's in jail?

I mean his neighbor wrote "not at this address. In jail."

On the envelope.

You intercepted the letter at the point of delivery?

Yep. Although 25 minutes earlier...

She had tendered her resignation,

so, technically, she had yet to be reinstated

as a government servant.

It's sheer luck I was there in time to intercept it.

Luck is the religion of the lazy.

Guess what? I found it. I stopped it just in time.

Your card.

It's from your dad, right?

And the handwriting is male, late 40s, early 50s.

Aren't you going to open it?

Maybe later.

Gotta find Charlie Riggs first.

Charlie? Kelly's Charlie?

Yeah, Charlie-in-jail- for-something Charlie.

Knew there was something fishy about that guy.

Shh! I'm googling.

But "Charlie Riggs" is such a nice name.

- Oh, my God! - What?

Do you remember the Baker Roger Piperson,

who won the lottery?

He's "the luckiest man in the world."

Roger Piperson was murdered...

By a man named Charlie Riggs.

[*]

It's impossible.

Wait! I remember.

I read an article about the baker in Park Hill.

He was going to give away all of his lottery money

to an orphanage in Loreto Heights, where he grew up.

They said that he was a real self-made man.

He used to give cookies

to the kids every day after school.

But then Charlie...

Not Charlie.

Right!

Someone, somebody, went into the bakery,

shot the baker, and...

And what?

I stopped reading.

It was just too sad.

Well, I don't believe it.

Not our Charlie.

[Oliver]: He's not "our Charlie."

And if it's true,

then perhaps Kelly made the right decision

when she decided to walk away.

I can't believe you just said that.

I know you want these two to be happy...

No. Wait. Here it is.

Detective Arthur Kimsey of the Criminal Investigation Unit

said it was the shortest murder investigation

in his 12 years on the force."

[Detective]: We just went to his house

and waited for him to come home."

[Reporter]: According to Detective Kimsey,

Riggs was easily apprehended

because he not only matched

the description of the alleged gunman,

but also because,

in his haste to escape the scene,

he dropped his wallet and identification behind.

Oh, no. It is our Charlie.

Ah, he's not bad-lookin'.

[Shane]: "Riggs was taken into custody and charged

with second-degree murder

during the commission of an armed robbery.

He's pleaded "not guilty"

and remains incarcerated without bail,

and is awaiting trial."

Well...

There it is.

[Lid claps shut]

Kelly didn't say anything in her letter about him being clumsy.

[Oliver]: Or homicidal.

Wait. What date was that?

Last year. I think this month...

Oh... wow.

Oliver. It happened a year ago on the 26th.

I need a Yoo-hoo.

What's going on?

Norman, don't you get it?

Charlie was with Kelly that day,

all day, and he dropped his wallet,

so whoever picked it up probably shot the Baker.

He's a lot taller than I thought he would be.

I was in a jail once.

I was visiting a cousin

who was doing 10 days in quartzville, Arizona...

- ... for tipping cows. - Norman, please stop talking...

And I mean it from the very bottom of my heart, okay?

"Riggs faces life in lottery-winner shooting."

Oh, my gosh! He goes to trial next week.

What are we going to do?

We're going to re-address the letter

to Charlie, care of the county jail.

That's it? He needs our help!

Well, clearly, he needs someone's help,

like his lawyer, for example,

but the U.S. postal system

is not in the habit of defending murderers.

He's not a murderer!

That's right, and we know that, so we need to do something.

Well, the truth is, we don't know anything

- beyond what's in the letter. - Voil? !

What is this?

This is Jerry Polevich, Charlie's public defender,

and he happens to be on a dating website.

"Jerry Polevich, age 47.

Education: Degree in law from the north Denver valley college.

Religion: None.

Languages: 'What's wrong with English?'

Status: Divorced."

There's no surprise there, is there?

Likes: Golf, cooking, golf, eating, golf,

barbecuing, golf

and anything from the mile-high deli.

Life's ambition: To quit the law

and buy the bunker-shot grill at pinecobble country club."

That's quite enough "googling," Ms. Mclnerney.

I'm calling the receptionist

so I can set up a meeting to sit down face-to...

[Jerry]: Polevich.

Jerry Polevich?

Jerry Polevich, Esquire?

If personal injury's your plan, Polevich is your man.

Uh, I will keep that in mind, sir,

but I'm not calling to solicit your services.

I am calling from the main post office down...

Ah! Great! You found 'em!

I don't know how you guys could manage to lose

60 pounds of mail-order steak on dry ice.

The United States post office does not "lose" things, sir.

Look, if-if you don't wanna sue anybody,

you don't got my steak,

what do ya want?

Well, I'm calling with information

- about the man who killed... - Allegedly!

Allegedly killed Roger Piperson.

Who?

Charles Riggs.

You are his public defender, are you not?

Charles Riggs? Well, then who's Roger Piperson?

The Baker!

Who was unfortunately dispatched... last year.

Oh, right, right, right, right. The Piperson bakery.

Oh! I loved that bakery!

I haven't had a decent bearclaw since.

What about him?

Well, I have proof...

A letter detailing Charles Riggs' activities

the day the Baker was dispatched

which proves his innocence incontroverti...

Look, look, pal. Anybody can write a letter.

Do you got any pictures? Video?

No.

Well, that's what I'm gonna need.

You get me my visuals and my 60 pounds of steak,

then we'll talk.

You still wanna do nothing, Oliver?

You wanna leave it up to the crack legal mind

of a man who buys his meat through the mail?

No, of course not, but we have no alternative.

Wrong.

The other day, you said that we are responsible

for what little truth we have.

Well, the truth is,

Charlie Riggs is innocent and we can prove it.

- Possibly. - Possibly? Probably!

And we have a moral obligation

to at least try.

What are you proposing?

We know Polevich won't do anything with the letter, right?

But if we deliver the letter to Charlie in person,

maybe he can tell us something that we can do to help him.

Charlie needs this letter.

He needs to keep that date with Kelly

and he needs a friend.

I know it's risky, but...

Sometimes, you just have to take the leap.

- It's a compelling proposition. - Look...

With my computer skills, Rita's memory,

your genius as a postal detective,

and Norman's expertise at... so many things...

[Chuckles shyly]

Think of us as a...

Covert division of postal intelligence.

Like secret agents?

I once applied to the C.I.A.

Me too! I didn't get in.

There's also the problem of Andrea, of course.

She'll want to know what we're up to.

Well, we simply tell her that we are fact-gathering

to ensure the delivery of letters

that require special handling.

She could confiscate my refrigerator.

We'll be flying under the radar.

"Postal intelligence."

I suppose we are that...

Already.

Except now we would have...

Well, we would have a license to...

- To deliver! - Yes!

A license to deliver.

[Clinking]

[*]

Alright, let's do final checks.

Uh, trench coat?

Check.

- Laptop? - Check.

Gas in the jag?

Check.

We're taking that?

V-12 XJS.

Nobody who works for the government

drives a car like that except James Bond.

I'll take that as a compliment.

Oh! She's coming!

Go. Go!

Where's Oliver?

Good morning, Andrea.

[Claps shut]

[Cart rumbling]

Norman?

What in the name of Paul revere are you doing?

Sorting. Forwarding. The usual.

Tell Oliver I want him in the department meeting. Pronto.

Oh, Oliver actually went home.

He got hold of a bad piece of... fish last night.

Then send that other one.

Well, that could be a problem.

Same dinner.

Same fish.

I want one of them in that department meeting,

and nobody goes home sick unless I send them home sick!

[Sighing]

[Doors swinging shut]

When she was "miss special delivery,"

she sang "climb every mountain" for her talent section.

Life can take a toll on a woman without love, Norman.

[*]

Hi there.

We have an attorney/client consultation

with prisoner Charles Riggs.

- I.D.? - Yes.

Here you are.

I don't see your names on today's list.

Oh? Uh... What list is that?

Client-counsel appointment roster.

Ah! The client-counsel appointment roster?

I put our names on that yesterday.

You would have had to have done that last Thursday.

That's what I meant.

I put our names on that on Thursday.

For today.

Thursday.

That was a lovely day, wasn't it?

Mm! Gorgeous.

Virtually cloudless.

Beautiful.

Yeah, would you mind checking again?

Okay. There you are, but

I don't see you as the attorney-of-record.

Oh! You are, of course, referring to Jerry Polevich.

A fine fellow.

Always been pleased with his work.

Sadly, however,

he was placed on administrative leave

after inhaling a few too many mile-high pastrami platters.

I understand, I understand.

Well, Jerry does like his deli, that's for sure.

Yes, he does.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

[*]

- Do I know you? - No, Charlie, you don't,

but we're here to help you.

Finally. You're from the state legal assistance office, right?

Actually, we're from the U.S. post office.

[Quiet gasp]

I knew something was wrong.

I knew she would've come forward if she could've.

Everybody thought I made her up,

but now I've got proof.

Only proof that she loved you, I'm afraid.

And I'm afraid you can't prove anything else

about that day without her and the pictures she took.

[Shane]: All you need is one photo with Kelly from that day.

Maybe one with the bloodmobile that only happens once a y...

Once a year in the park! That'd be perfect.

Now, on the 26th...

On the 26th, I'll still be here.

Then we'll go for you.

We'll keep that date on the bridge.

We'll meet Kelly and we'll get the pictures

and we'll let you know as soon as we get them.

I just want to know if she's okay.

I wish I knew what was wrong with her.

We could make some...

Discreet inquiries.

Is there anything else you can tell us about her

that wasn't in that letter?

Well, I remember when she got on the elevator,

she had these beautiful eyes.

Charlie, do you remember

what floor she got on in the elevator?

I... I think it was the third floor.

That was the Colorado bank building, right?

Yeah, I think. Why?

Just give me a second.

Okay, here it is. Suite 305.

Western states research systems.

"A state-of-the-art medical research company

specializing in the experimental treatment

of blood-related disorders.

Specifically... " [Inhales sharply]

"Hodgkin's disease."

Oh, my God.

Check to see if any patients named Kelly

participated in an experimental treatment last year.

I'm on it.

I tried to look her up online, but... [scoffs]

I even looked for a Charlie-and-Kelly website.

Okay. I'm in.

June 26th, last year,

they finalized their control group

of 40 patients with stage-3B Hodgkin's lymphoma

and started double-blind trials the next day,

so they used only first names.

Jack, age 30.

Jason, age 29.

Kelly, age 23. That's got to be her, right?

Okay, let's see how she's doing.

[Keys clack, then stop]

What's the matter?

"The six-month clinical trial commencing June 27th

failed to produce positive outcomes

in 100% of the subjects.

As of this date,

no patients survived treatment."

[*]

I, uh...

I don't know what that means.

Charlie...

It means she's gone.

I'm so sorry, Charlie.

[*]

What are we gonna do now?

The pictures have to be out there somewhere.

We didn't try hard enough.

- We could have... - No.

We tried, we did our best. Now,

we have to do what we know how to do

and let Charlie grieve for Kelly.

And fight for his life.

[Door bangs open]

Gotten over the bad fish, I see.

Yeah! [Chuckles]

It's a miracle.

Forgive me for not keeping you in the loop, Andrea.

Yeah.

I really missed being in your loop.

Too bad you weren't in mine.

You didn't go to the meeting.

And I regret that. It won't happen again.

You're darn right it won't happen again,

'cause there ain't gonna be another department meeting.

Ever.

Beg your pardon?

They're shutting the place down.

Yeah.

This lousy, smelly office has...

What did they say?

"Lost its viability."

The dead letter office is... dead?

This time next month,

you all will be selling stamps

and sorting catalogs in pueblo.

You wanted a transfer?

You're gonna get one, missy.

[Chuckles]

How's that for being in the loop?

[Door swings open and shut]

Today was a very bad day.

I thought we were a pretty good team,

holding down the fort.

Hey, Norman, do you wanna dance?

Uh... could we play shuffleboard instead?

Okay.

She has a terrible crush on him.

You know that, right?

That's very insightful,

considering she absolutely terrifies him.

Yeah, well, love is funny.

Odd, perhaps.

But funny?

Rarely.

Oh, look.

Drinks are here, finally.

To, um...

To the dead letter office...

The last hope of the written word.

[Clink]

[Chuckles]

I went on a pilgrimage

to the national postal museum

two years ago.

It was glorious.

I can't say that I ever went.

I got lost in it.

Did you go alone?

No.

Well, sort of.

I took my wife.

A lovely person whose interests

extended far beyond the written word to, shall we say...

The somewhat decadent.

We were standing in front of the pony express exhibit.

I turned around,

she wasn't there anymore.

I looked everywhere for her.

I finally gave up.

I went back to the holiday inn express

and, um, waited for her.

She never came.

I was just about to call the police

when I noticed

that little red light blinking on the phone.

She left this message.

She said that she was tired

of being married to a government official,

and she figured, since she was in Washington, DC,

it was the closest she had ever been to Paris,

so she was getting on a plane and moving to France.

[Deflating sigh]

I'm so sorry, Oliver.

[Sighs]

Did she ever come back?

Not yet.

The last thing she said on her message was,

"I'll send you my forwarding address.

Au revoir."

Actually, she pronounced it

"or rev-or."

But I assume her accent's much improved by now.

Don't you think you've waited for her long enough?

I believe in keeping promises.

I am, after all, a gentleman.

That you are.

Oliver?

Would you like to dance?

[Laughing]

[*]

Have you ever thought about just going to Paris?

Sadly, I lack the proper luggage.

Or you could just give me her name

and I'll look her up in 10 seconds,

and then you'd finally know.

I suppose I would.

You know, I bet that's it.

You eschew the electronic age,

because if you knew...

Love that word. "Eschew."

[*]

You reject it all,

because if you knew how to Google and Skype

and tweet and that stuff,

you would no longer have an excuse

for not facing the truth.

Please don't psychoanalyze the section leader.

Besides, you're one to talk.

What do you mean?

Well, why haven't you opened your card yet?

Hmm?

You should open it.

My guess is a birthday card

from daddy with a...

20 in it.

[*]

You are good.

Yeah. He always sent me $20 for my birthday.

Sent.

Not gave?

He left us when I was 10.

He always promised to come to my birthday,

but all I ever got was a card and some money.

That's why...

Making sure Kelly and Charlie kept that date

meant so much to you.

Yeah, maybe.

I know what it's like to wait for someone who never comes.

[Whispers]: I'm sorry for you.

Life is short, Ms. Mclnerney.

[Sniffles deeply]

Perhaps your father's sending you a message,

an olive branch that...

"Life is short." Oliver...

Oliver, that's it!

[Slapping him]

She was sending him a message!

Rita! Norman!

Let's go!

[*]

[Shane]: There's a reason she never wanted him to forget that...

It was her way of breaking the rules,

a way for him to find her.

She was sending him a message?

"Life is short."

Filter for "Kelly."

"Kelly and Charlie... "

Kelly... Kelly s.

Yes! [Stomps foot]

Oh! Look at her. She was so beautiful.

[Norman]: "Charlie, if you find this page,

you must have really wanted to find me.

And in case I don't make it to the bridge,

I wanted you to have these pictures

to remember the last best day of my life."

There's Charlie by the lake.

There he is sailing the boat.

What about Charlie and the bloodmobile?

They have to be in the same picture

in order to establish time and place.

Okay, there he is, swinging across the creek,

landing on the other side,

there he is running.

No, that's the jogger that ran into Charlie!

No, wait. Or is that Charlie?

No. That's the jogger. It just sort of looks like Charlie.

It looks a lot like Charlie.

Same hair, same build.

So Charlie was knocked down by someone

who looked a great deal like him.

Right before he lost his wallet.

There! There he is! He's on the move.

Well, get in! Come on.

[*]

Oliver, can't this thing go any faster?

My foot's all the way down.

- Oh, he's over there! - Ow.

Okay, here we go.

Sorry!

There he is... 1:00.

Hang on, Rita!

Hey! Ho!

You jerk.

What are you doing?

Sorry, sir.

The 18th hole is currently off-limits

due to some suspicious ground squirrel activity.

What the hell is going on?

A moment of your time, Jerry.

Who are you people?

Loyal Americans dedicated

to the highest standard of mail delivery.

We have some information of the utmost importance

we want to bring to your attention.

I gotta sink this putt

and be back in court in half an hour.

We have a double-double Reuben on rye

from the mile-high deli

that says you wanna hear what we have to say.

[Oliver]: You are the public defender

for Mr. Charles Riggs,

and this is the information that proves he is innocent.

You're the guy that called me.

Photos taken the same day the crime took place.

Note the bloodmobile, a once-a-year afternoon event.

Please pay particular attention to this photo

of a man who bears a remarkable resemblance to Mr. Charles Riggs.

Please note his hand suspiciously close to Mr. Riggs' back pocket.

I submit to you

that he is stealing the very wallet

that the murderer of Roger Piperson

purposely dropped at the scene of the crime...

That's ridiculous.

I know it seems a bit far-fetched,

until I point out to you

the man accosting Mr. Riggs,

removing his wallet,

is Eugene mossley,

the cousin

and sole living relative

of the deceased millionaire.

Look him up. He's on the Internet.

Oh.

Follow the money, Mr. Polevich,

and I imagine you will find the murder weapon

and a man who has just inherited the millions

his cousin had promised to an orphanage.

Okay, well, I'm gonna give, uh, all this

some real thought.

No. You're gonna give that to the district attorney

and you're gonna get the charges against Mr. Riggs dropped.

Immediately.

What is that? Some kind of threat?

No.

But this is.

Have you ever seen what happens to Montana steaks

when they've been rerouted for additional postage?

[Takes a deep breath, sighs]

Well played, sir.

[*]

That's right, Parker.

The remarkable way in which this new evidence

came to light certainly contributed to

to Riggs' speedy release, which

we expect to take place... Any minute now.

So this is it?

It's really over?

Before you know it,

we'll be back at the D.L.O., packing our proverbial bags,

and transferring to pueblo.

Or meeker. Or east tincup.

Our days of rule-breaking glory are over.

Not for me.

No.

I imagine you'll always be found somewhere

stepping across a line.

Before it's all over, I'd like to know why.

Shane Mclnerney, why are you such a revolutionary?

Well...

Since you called me by my real name,

I'm going to tell you, Mr. O'Toole.

I always followed the rules.

Drove the speed limit.

Always parked at least five feet away

from a fire hydrant,

never tore the tags off furniture.

So...

One night, when I went to a hospital,

and they told me

that visiting hours were over,

I said "thank you. I will come back tomorrow."

But when tomorrow came...

I didn't have anyone to come back to.

My dad had died in the night,

and I never got to the chance to work things out with him.

You two were at odds?

He had called a couple of months before,

and said that he was sick

and he wanted to spend my birthday with me

before he died.

I said

that he had been gone so long,

that he was dead to me already.

But he was your dad.

I'm sure he knew you didn't mean it.

He knew that I did.

Interesting.

What?

You may have surmised by now, uh, I am a man a faith.

It's true. He sings in the church choir.

Tenor.

You may find my faith

amusing or naive,

but you're something of a believer yourself.

What about me could possibly give you any indication

that I believe in God and redemption

and all that stuff?

Well, if you don't,

you should throw that card away right now.

Go ahead.

Yet there it is, still in your purse.

You're hoping there's redemption in there.

You're hoping that

there's something more than $20 in that envelope.

You're hoping...

That when you finally find the courage

to trust that your father never stopped loving you,

and you tear open that pain you've been carrying around,

there's forgiveness inside.

And hope like that, my dear Shane...

Is what faith is about.

[Door lock buzzing]

[*]

[Reporters shouting]

How does it feel to be exonerated?

What's the first thing you're going to do?

[Reporters asking questions]

[*]

I know it doesn't matter now, but

I just figured, it's the 26th,

and one of us should be here, right?

Of course.

We got you a bagel and lox.

Uh, and, uh cream cheese and capers.

Thanks.

For... everything.

Hey, Norman, we should go feed the ducks.

- Yeah, I don't know. - Norman.

Ducks carry disease, you know.

U.S. postal service, huh?

An obscure division.

Well, thank you.

I thought you might like these.

And a sewing kit.

A small souvenir I happened to keep

from the Washington, D.C., holiday inn.

Something to remember us by.

[*]

Good luck, Charlie.

[*]

It's hard to believe

this is our last assignment together.

This is our first assignment together, Norman.

Yeah.

I'm gonna miss us.

[Bike rattling]

[Quietly]: Oliver, look.

Kelly?

Charlie.

What are you doing here?

Well, we had a date, right?

I-I know, but I...

I tried to find you,

I did find you, at the research center,

but they said nobody survived the trials.

I never finished the trials.

I only signed up because it was free.

I-I was too afraid to go home to Boston

and ask my folks for help.

You were in Boston this entire time?

My parents found me the greatest doctor

in the world and I...

Oh, my God.

That is Kelly, right?

Yes, Norman, I believe it is.

I knew it!

I knew she couldn't actually be gone.

I don't understand.

I thought she was supposed to be, you know...

Don't believe everything you read on the Internet.

That's right.

"There are more things in heaven and earth," Norman,

"than can be dreamt of in your philosophy."

[Oliver and Shane]: Shakespeare.

[*]

[Oliver]: Aunt tilly's missing will,

the missing registration form of the class reunion,

the odd ransom note,

the first letter from college,

the last letter from Iraq...

I have seen it all...

Dead letters by the thousands,

each one a tiny paper vessel

laden with good news, or ill,

profit or loss,

love or pain.

Tossed about on the rough seas of government protocol,

a ship searching for its harbor,

each one bearing the power to change something,

and yet, each one a destiny postponed...

Until it comes to us.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is an excellent day.

[Norman]: Good morning, Oliver.

Good morning, Norman.

"District attorney Edwards

hailed the local post office branch

at Alameda and downing

for the superlative service

and a highly-efficient dead letter division.

The branch was originally slated for closure,

but will now be expanded

to receive all misdirected letters

from the Western and mid-states regions!"

[Doors swing open]

Mclnerney!

Looks like you rate now.

That transfer you put in for

came through early, and you report

to the direct line operations at the terminal annex in...

Two hours.

Thanks.

Do you still want it?

I think, uh...

I think...

I think I need a cup of coffee.

Um...

Good coffee.

Excuse me.

Looks like your "loop" just got a little smaller.

[Sniffs]

[*]

Aspen chai tea with foam.

Next?

[*]

- [Doors swing open] - Come and get 'em!

I got three skinny vanilla lattes

and one steamboat americano.

We have a lot of mail to sort through today, people, so...

That was very nice of you.

Well, I found an extra $20 in my purse.

[*]

[Oliver]: Yes, the thoughtfully-composed,

well-considered, addressed, stamped, professionally postmarked,

and personally-delivered letter

is still the gold standard of human intercourse.

God is in his universe,

and all is right with the world.

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