Anthony Newman: American Survivor

Gwen realized the wedding was a mistake over wine with Joe’s best friend the night of the storm. He worked in the same building where Gwen worked, and they soon became very close. They shared many of the same beliefs and ambitions. They kept their secret from Joe until the tree fell and crushed their world.

Joe took a couple of days off from the Ford Dealership, where he worked as the lead mechanic, in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. He stayed home grieving the loss of his best friend and thanking God, he hadn’t married Gwen. He tried to act as if he was grieving for Gwen but figured she was already bossing everyone around up there and possibly down there.

Joe was one of the good guys and always helped his friends and even strangers. His dark brown hair was in contrast to his blue eyes and fair skinned complexion. His face turned red too quickly to suit him, and he always had a smile on his face. He was overweight, and Gwen often got after him about overeating junk food and pizza along with his favorite beer. Joe had laughed it off and told her to find a skinny guy because he loved his pizza and beer. After seeing Darren and her in the wreck, he felt she must have taken his advice. Darren was six feet tall and weighed 175 pounds while Joe was 5’10” and weighed 210 pounds.

Joe knew people were laughing behind his back, and he expected memes of their naked butts to be on Facebook any day. He didn’t give a care about Gwen but didn’t like being the butt of the jokes. Then a real tragedy occurred that had a silver lining and a second disaster that killed billions of people.

Joe was out on his patio drinking too much of his favorite IPA while stuffing his mouth with pizza celebrating his freedom when his music stopped, and the announcer mentioned something about a potential cyber-attack overseas. Joe changed the channel to another country music station and grabbed an ice cold beer. The IPA bit his tongue as he downed a mouthful and tickled his nose. He heard a noise from his driveway, and his dad drove up and parked.

“Dad, have a beer.”

“Not now son, your Grandma has passed away in her sleep at Aunt Jane’s home.”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I loved her and will miss her a lot. Dad, I know you were closer to Grandma than I was but I will miss her very much. Her quick wit and ball busting my cousins and your sisters made my day at every family event.”

“Yes, she was a character, but you are wrong. You and mom were much closer than she and I ever were. I spent too much time rebelling against her and her way of doing things. She doted on you and took a much softer approach with you. You should have been raised in her house. She kept things lively and would bust your ass in a skinny minute if you broke the rules, but she would also stand up for us kids when we needed it the most,” his Dad said with tears in his eyes.

“Dad, we need to celebrate. Grandma wasn’t someone to want people to sit around moping. She would want something like an Irish wake. Have a beer,” Joe said.

Grandma had been 97 but was very active up to the day of her death. Joe had been very close to her since he was young and still called her every week to see how she was doing. She had taken him for long hikes in the Oregon woods on their property and paid for the plane tickets to fly him out for a month every spring when he was in high school to help her around the ranch. She paid Joe to help tend the cabins in the woods east of Ashland and to cut weeds and trees down to keep the area around the three cabins cleared.

Joe’s Grandpa had died when Joe was nine years old, so he didn’t remember much about him. He dimly remembered the walks in the woods that his Grandpa had called, digging for treasure . His Grandpa had always stuck something in the hole instead of taking anything out. Grandpa had made a fortune in lumber, and before he died, they owned one of the largest sawmills in the state, plus several large tracts of land with cabins and houses.

Grandma taught Joe about hunting, fishing, and hiking from an early age until Joe got out of college and was busy working. He only saw her for a few days each year at holidays or funerals but never missed calling her and talking for hours. Sometimes she would rant about politics and how the world was going to hell in a hand basket or give Joe tips on which stock to purchase. She always sent him one share of her latest hot stock for Christmas, and he still had every one of them.

Joe didn’t go to his fiance’s funeral but forced himself to go to his friend’s funeral, before flying out to Oregon with his parents for his Grandma’s funeral. His Grandma’s funeral went as planned; however, his greedy assed relatives were salivating over Grandma’s money and land. His cousins were on the internet ordering fancy trucks and sports cars, but he and his parents only wanted Grandma back.

That afternoon Joe and his dad went to the liquor store and brought back enough beer, wine, and liquor for a small army. They invited everyone back to Aunt Jane’s home for a celebration of his Grandma’s life. Aunt Becky and her wimpy husband thought they were insulting her mom’s memory. They apparently didn’t know Agnes Pearl White very well because she would be cracking a joke and drinking heartily.

This was just what Joe needed to get back on track.

The next day the lawyer read Grandma’s will, and there were a bunch of pissed off people because the local animal shelter, Aunt Jane, Joe’s parents, and Joe were the only ones who received anything from Grandma. Joe received $30,000 and a large tract of land a few miles east of Ashland, Oregon.

Joe was dumbfounded. He was starting to offer to split the money and land with the others when his dad said, “Joe, you were the only grandchild that had contacted Grandma in the last five years, and the others only saw her on the holidays. You deserve the land and money. Hell, mom gave the animal shelter over a million dollars.”

Later, Grandma’s lawyer asked, “Joe could you join me in the conference room. Your Grandmother was a wealthy and very opinionated lady. I knew her for over 40 years, and she loved you more than I can say. She left instructions to meet with you in private to give you this letter which explains the items on my desk.

The letter read:

Dear Joe:

As they say, if you are reading this, then I am dead. I had cancer that had metastasized, and Doc gave me about six months to live. I didn’t tell anyone because I’m 97 years old and that’s long enough. My only regret is that we won’t have our weekly phone calls, but so you don’t miss me I took some of my last days on Earth to write 134 letters to you that give you more of my wit, wisdom, and charm. Read one every week, and we will be able to continue our weekly chats. I hope you decide to stay and live on the property. I have loved and cherished that land for over fifty years. I have also added clues to enable you to find the most valuable treasure on this Earth. I have left my maps of the land and all of my favorite places on your property.

I only left you a small amount of money because I want you to struggle a bit as you make your way through life. Your Grandpa and I were broke many times during our marriage, and those were the times that brought us closer. You and your woman, when you get one, need the same opportunity.

Now for some advice. Never confuse lust with love. Sow your wild oats but never screw anything that can’t be unscrewed. Don’t marry a girl until you can’t stand to live without her. Last my favorite. Never eat the yellow snow.

You should be around 30 years old and should have a great life ahead of you. The stock I sent you over the years is worth a small fortune but never sell it. Save it to pass on to Joe Jr. I left you money, and now you have the thing that, other than you, that I hold most dear: my land.