Chapter 26: Firing the Gun
Nowadays, people often avoid discussing death. It's considered inauspicious, especially among the elderly. However, in the West, many people don't shy away from it. They prepare their own burial plots in advance and even write what they want to be said at their funerals.
In ancient times, people weren't afraid to talk about death either. They would even make their own coffins and burial clothes while still healthy. But somewhere along the line, death became a taboo topic.
Sheila had purchased two burial plots long ago, intending to be buried alongside Officer Eddie. This shows she wasn't a promiscuous woman but intended to spend her life with him.
However, Officer Eddie's behavior and his blatant disdain for Sheila deeply hurt her. Otherwise, 'Frank' wouldn't have succeeded in winning her over.
After getting together with 'Frank,' Sheila truly fell in love with him.
Now, upon learning that Frank had cancer and might die, she even offered him a burial plot, planning to be buried with him.
Sharing a grave in death is more genuine than any vow of eternal love.
"I'm really going to die," Frank thought, touched by Sheila's words but also feeling the reality of death closing in, leaving no room for excuses or self-deception.
That night, Frank lay in bed holding Sheila, unable to sleep.
Facing the reality of his situation, Frank realized he needed to make the most of his remaining time.
Before dawn, Frank got up, tucked Sheila in, and left her house.
He returned home and made breakfast for the kids.
"Who's cooking? Frank?" Fiona asked, coming downstairs, surprised to see Frank cooking.
"Tell the kids to come down for breakfast," Frank said.
The children rushed downstairs, ate quickly, and left for school. Frank enthusiastically saw each one off, but aside from Debbie and Carl, the others remained indifferent to him.
"Hey," came a knock at the door. Frank opened it to find Steve waving, but before he could say a word, Frank slammed the door shut.
"Who was that?" Fiona asked.
"Steve," Frank replied.
"Oh, you could have let him in," Fiona said hesitantly.
"Fiona, he's not right for you. You can't be with him," Frank said, looking at Fiona.
"My darling daughter, you're my greatest treasure. No one is worthy of you," Frank said, holding Fiona's face. Knowing he might die soon, his eyes glistened with tears.
"What's wrong, Frank?" Fiona asked, uncomfortable with Frank's demeanor.
"Nothing," Frank shook his head and saw Fiona off to work.
Once the kids were gone, Frank pulled a slip of paper from his pocket with a phone number on it.
"Hello, Rob," Frank called the number from a public phone booth.
It was the number of a gang. They had once approached Frank for a job, but he had refused.
Frank had always avoided illegal activities, preferring a peaceful life. But now that he was dying, he had nothing to fear and decided to take the plunge.
After thinking all night, Frank decided he should leave something for his children before he died, like money.
There's a joke that the most profitable ventures are written in the criminal code. While a joke, it holds some truth.
So, Frank contacted the gang and agreed to work with them.
His task was simple: drive a car to a remote area and leave it there.
Frank completed the job but wouldn't get paid immediately. He'd receive his share after the insurance claim was processed, which would take a few days.
But this was just the beginning. 'Frank' had many ways to make money, albeit through questionable means.
Frank had previously avoided such methods, preferring honest work, even if it meant scavenging.
But to leave a legacy for his children before dying, Frank opened the door to those forbidden paths, willing to do whatever it took, even risking jail.
Frank quickly saw the rewards. In just two days, he made more money than he would have in two weeks of scavenging.
"Ian?" Frank spotted Ian being dragged under a bridge by the Milkovich brothers on his way home.
"Finally caught you. Run all you want, but you owe us for sleeping with Mandy. We're going to break your legs," Mickey said, brandishing an iron rod.
"I didn't sleep with Mandy. She tried to assault me," Ian explained.
"Whatever you say, we're breaking your legs today," Mickey said.
"Stop!" Frank shouted, rushing over.
"Get lost, Frank, or we'll beat you too. Your friends aren't here to back you up this time," Mickey warned.
Previously, Mickey and his brothers backed off because Frank had two gang members with him. But now, with Frank alone, they weren't afraid.
Facing their threat, Frank instinctively hesitated, ready to turn and leave.
Seeing Frank turn away, Ian's hope dimmed, replaced by a self-mocking smile. He had never thought he'd rely on Frank.
But just as Frank turned, he stopped suddenly.
"Damn it, Frank!" Frank cursed internally.
'Frank's' instincts were constantly influencing him.
If 'Frank' were here, he'd ignore Ian's plight, let alone intervene. Even if he wanted to help, Mickey's threat would send him running.
But Frank wasn't 'Frank'!
"Let my son go," Frank said, turning and pulling out a gun, aiming it at the three brothers.
"Ha, who are you trying to scare with a toy? Go on, shoot," Mickey taunted.
The Milkovich family had plenty of guns, both long and short, so Mickey was familiar with firearms. He could tell Frank's gun was real.
The gun was real, but the person holding it was another matter.
Even they only fired at cans or used guns to intimidate, not daring to actually shoot people. To Mickey, Frank was bluffing, and the gun was just a toy in his hands.
'Bang! Bang!' Frank suddenly fired into the air.
"Do you think I won't shoot?" Frank said, lowering the gun to aim at them, his face cold.
"Fuck!!" The trio's expressions changed.