Desire’s Journey Everybody was saying goodbye to Mick. He had come to the RV park three years before, fresh out of jail. A burly, barrel-chested man, he had, for twenty-five years, made a precarious living with his hands and his fists. His previous “job,” before his incarceration, had been as a bouncer in a blue-collar bar; as long as he remained sober enough to control the crowd of “serious drinkers,” he was given pocket money, his meals, a place to park his live-in camper, and all he could drink. He had been the target of gunshot, a few times, in his “work,” and in his last skirmish he had exacted a painful toll from his antagonist, to the extent that he was imprisoned. Now, a free agent once again, but humble, sober and hungry for the first time in his adult life, he was given a job as the RV campground’s handyman. Not long after, he married one of the single women there. His brother, who lived in Arkansas, had been a carpenter; he suddenly came into a handsome sum of money, due to an accident. For his vacation, Mick and his wife took their camper, and their dog, and visited the brother. Shortly after their return to California, the brother phoned: “You remember that piece of property you were admiring, the one with the big motor home on it? I bought it for you!” “Jesus Christ! Why the hell did you do that?!” “You’re my brother, and I love you, and I want you to be near.” He paused. “Three years ago, I never thought I’d be saying that.”
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