Another neighbor said, “He brought lumber home for me last month.”
Someone else mentioned another favor.
Then another.
I wanted to disappear.
I’d never thought of those things as accomplishments.
They were simply things I could do, so I did them.
But hearing them said aloud changed something.
Not in me.
In Clark.
His favorite excuse had just collapsed.
I wasn’t a useless old man sitting beside an unused truck.
And even if I had been, it wouldn’t have mattered.
The truck was still mine.
The gas was still mine.
My age had never given him permission to take either one.
Part 5 — “I Want It Back Now”
Clark stood there with the box at his feet.
Finally he gestured toward it.
“And everybody thinks this is normal?”
I looked at the photograph taped to the cardboard.
Then at him.
“No.”
His face relaxed slightly.
Then I continued.
“What’s not normal is taking things that don’t belong to you and assuming people will stay quiet because confronting you is inconvenient.”
Tom crossed his arms.
“This stopped being about Frank’s box about five minutes ago.”
Mrs. Delgado stepped closer.
“I want my pressure washer.”
