Analysis Of ' Frank Was Talking About Andres Atwood 's Adopted Son

2818 WordsNov 26, 201612 Pages
Frank was talking about Andrés—Margaret Sampson 's adopted son. My tongue seemed to swell from hearing his cruelty, from something he had never called Andrés before. Margaret was also my closest friend and her story, the saddest in Hanford. Years ago, her biological son’s body was found on the South Gibson train tracks. A drunken night gone wrong, the autopsy relayed, since River’s organs were soaking in the pool of alcohol he had consumed. Things got worse when three months later, Margaret 's husband Jim left. My friendship became a vow. Every evening for an entire year, I sat in Margaret 's living room, the room I had helped her paint a bright yellow while our husbands were at work, the room that turned out to be a depressing, empty…show more content…
But Andrés kept hanging around, trying his best to seem like he was one of us. My throat tightened when I thought of Margaret now, the pain she had been through, how I had helped her heal, but how Andrés had more. Frank’s mouth hung open, his eyebrows raised, his comment justified in his world. I stepped towards Frank and pushed my index finger into his hard chest. “Andrés is up to nothing. Now put that gun away and go inside.” “He took my beer. I saw him. He went right into the basement cooler and stole a six pack and now he’s out there drinking it.” “So he 's drinking some beer! I 'll call Margaret and tell her to come get him.” “You 've always been so naive, Grace.” I wanted to do to Frank what he had been doing to me for the last six months. I wanted to shock him so much, it knocked the wind, the words right out of him. But my hands hung at my sides, shaking, and my thoughts, my voice, were completely gone. He lifted the gun again and crept around the other side of the garage. I followed with quick, stretched steps, trying to get there before him. It was too late. Frank fired a bullet into the night right before he stood in front of our daughter and her teenage friends. A warning that echoed and made them scream. He pointed the Rimfire at Andrés once he widened his stance in front of the burn barrel. The flames seemed

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