[ WP ] A shape shifter who is dealing with an identity crisis .

The house was so normal for having such an abstruse person as its resident. Just like the one next to it, just like the one next to that one, and so on. In a way, its inhabitant was like that, just like everyone, but different at the same time. Different by being the same as everyone. 
 
 I walk up the front walk and knocked at the door. 
 
 `` Hey,'' I say, for lack of a name to use. Who knows what name I'll have to use today. `` Do you have any electric tape? I'm doing a bit of home improvement.'' There was no answer. 
 
 `` I know you're in there, just open up,'' I say. 
 
 `` How do you know I'm here?'' the soothing voice of a man calls out. 
 
 `` Because you're a total shut-in. You make me buy your groceries for you half the time, remember?'' 
 
 `` It's not my fault. Sometimes I choose to look a way that would cause a commotion if I went outside.'' 
 
 `` I do n't think you know what the definition of'not my fault' is,'' I say. `` Now let me in.'' The door opens, and I'm greeted by none other than Frank Sinatra. 
 
 `` What do you think?'' he asks. 
 
 `` I think you try on celebrities like an eighteen-year-old girl tries on prom dresses?'' I stroll inside. 
 
 `` I think you're just jealous of the fact that I can be whoever I want,'' he says. I stop, turn around, and look him in the eye. 
 
 `` Listen, Frank, I think it's about time we talked about your whole identity changing thing,'' I say. 
 
 `` Could we not?'' he asks. `` I'm perfectly comfortable living the way I do.'' 
 
 `` That's the problem. Follow me, Frank.'' I lead him to his living room. 
 
 Sitting down to have a talk with Frank Sinatra, a man who had died years ago, is not something that happens every day, unless you're me, Dustin Breckenridge. Fresh out of college and eager to get a place of my own to stay at, I snatched up the cheapest place I could find. I did n't think why such a nice house was so cheap, but I found out why shortly. I ended up being the chore boy of a shape shifter. Last week I was buying Madonna's groceries, the week before I was mowing Conan O'Brien's lawn. 
 
 I guess I do it because I feel bad for the guy. He can be whatever he wants, and he's living by himself in southern Wisconson, reliant on another person to maintain his household. But just because I feel bad for him does n't mean that I'm gon na let him stay like this. 
 
 We sit down across from each other. 
 
 `` What do you hope to accomplish through this talk?'' he asks. 
 
 `` Listen, Frank. You do n't leav your house, you live by yourself, and you change who you are every other day. That does n't sound like someone who's happy to me,'' I say. He does n't meet my eyes. `` I think that I've figured you out. The one person you want to be most, you ca n't, because you do n't know how to.'' I soften my voice. `` The person you want to be most is you.'' A tear slides down Frank's cheek. Before my eyes, he transforms. His hair changes from black to brown, his nose shrinks, his eyes become blue. The person left behind wipes the tear off his face. 
 
 `` You're right,'' he says. `` I was bullied as a kid, my parents were alcoholics, I got bad grades in school. I wanted to be anyone but me.'' He looks at his hands. `` I wanted it so badly... So badly, that one day, I just became someone else. I tried my hardest to forget who I was, but I could n't become who I became, you see. It was like putting on a mask. Behind it, I was still just... just me.'' I am silent for a while. Then, I speak. 
 
 `` My mom died when I was seven. My dad... he did n't take it well. He beat me repeatedly. After a few years of this, I could n't take it any more. So I ran away. I went to go live with my grandparents, but I never quite got over the abuse I suffered. I too once thought that the world hated me. But I managed to get over it.'' I say. 
 
 `` One day, my grandfather said something to me that stuck with me for the rest of my life. He said'Dustin, every person has a purpose in their life, and no one can do it but you.' I believe him. If you do n't do what you're meant to do, you're hurting humankind more than you're hurting yourself.'' I look at the man who used to Frank. He's smiling. 
 
 `` Thanks, Dustin. You do n't know how much you've just done for me,'' he says. `` By the way, the electric tape's in the garage, if you still want it.'' 
 
 `` Yes I do,'' I say. I get up and go to the garage. After a bit of fishing around through some junk, I find the electric tape and head back through the kitchen and out the door. But I see a note attached to the inside of his front door. I take it and read it. 
 
'Dear Dustin, 
 
 Thank you for what you said. I had been hiding for too long, and I needed someone to bring me back to reality. I'm leaving. I do n't know where I'm going, or when I'll get there. I'll write you when I get there though. 
 
 Sincerely, Jerome'' 
 
 `` Jerome,'' I say. `` What a nice name.'' 
 
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