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What Doesn't Kill You Essay

Decent Essays
____________________ As he reached his own yard, Frank was met by a beater Dodge pickup, a tan and tope job, driven by the park’s portly owner R.J. Wheeler. Wheeler leaned out the window. “How you doin Frank?” “I’m doin.” “Those bastard kids tear something up again?” “Yeah, just the toilet, but I got it taken care of,” Frank said. “It’s always something with these people, more trouble than they’re worth.” “I guess so.” A bitter, round faced man in his fifties, Frank met Wheeler at an alcoholic’s anonymous meeting at the local V.A. Wheeler took pity on Frank, putting him to work, even letting him stay in one of the old trailers. For that, Frank would always feel indebted. When your only life skills are fixing things and being drunk…show more content…
Wheeler shook his head. “These fucking people.” He said. “Just take care of it and I’ll talk to her about it later.” “Will do boss man.” Frank replied. He watched the Dodge roll slowly out of the drive, relieved to see it go. Frank never really saw Wheeler. Truth was he preferred it that way. As grateful as Frank was for everything Wheeler had done, he couldn’t stand him. He was full of that higher power A.A. bullshit, trying to make amends for the things you’ve done wrong. Only alcoholics and the religious could be so hypocritical. “Hey Frank, I almost forgot something, happy birthday.” ____________________ Inside, Frank showered. How had he forgotten his own birthday? Really, it wasn’t a surprise; he didn’t keep track of time much anymore. He didn’t want to spend his time thinking about all the toilets he’d unclogged or all the toilets to come. At seventy-one, he’d never imagined things would turn out this way. Thank God Alice wasn’t alive to see him now, to see this place. It would break her heart. The two of them had moved south after Frank lost his job at the plant. Thirty years he gave those bastards, and for what? No pension, not even a fucking gold watch, just a cheap plaque and some cake. Moving was the only answer. The real question was where. Frank had suggested north, maybe closer to one of Alice’s sisters. She wouldn’t hear it. She wanted to be closer to their son Robert,
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