Girl In A Room

Hitch-hiking is for lizards. That's 'cuz they get squashed and dead so they don't have to get to where they're going no more. I never hitch-hike unless I absolutely have to. Damn it, today I had to. And I even own a car now.

But the car dealer won't deliver my car. I have to go pick it up. The first thing I did when I got back was I bought me a car. I'm a changed woman. I take care of myself so I had to get a car. Can't live in a trailer park without a trailer or a car. My new trailer's in, and now I got me a new car. Except I still hadn't seen Jesse yet and I've been back for three weeks now.

So today, I vowed I would go see Jesse, 'cuz they told me at the car dealer my car would be ready today. I waited and waited for them to deliver it like they said they would. But after the whole morning, they're a no show. Dean let me use his phone and then they told me they never promised to deliver the car to me. I have to go pick it up. They don't deliver used cars - that's what I bought. And besides, they haven't got the damn car ready for today so I shouldn't bother coming to pick it up.

I was mad. But I am a new woman now and I stick to my plans. I planned to see Jesse today so that's what I did instead. Thing is, no one could give me a lift to see Jesse so I had to hitch-hike into town and take the bus to the jail.

This guy picked me up just outside the park. It's weird. I know this was the kind of guy I usually try to cozy up to. He's a good looker, rugged and confident, wearing cowboy gear and smoking. He was hot. But the new me, she just wasn't interested. Not that I don't like sex no more, but I don't want to be a slut no more, and I gotta take care of myself.

So there we were in the car and we were quiet most of the time. What the hell do people talk about when they're not trying to get into sex with each other? I wonder if I was turned off because he told me he had eight kids with three different women. Gee, now that I think about it, that actually turns me on. But nah, in the car at the time, I was just kinda grossed out and thought, Ew, I don't wanna get involved in that whole mess. I don't want to have his baby, or anyone's.

Here's a lesson for guys trying to get a girl in the sack. Never give her the idea she could have your baby right away. You just met for chrissake.

I finally made it to the jail. Don't get me wrong. Jesse is my son, isn't he? I'm not blind, am I? And I am certainly not crazy.

So I asked for Jesse at the gate and they let me in. I went to Jesse's cell and there was this girl there, with stringy bleached blond hair, looking about 14, doing her nails. A short little thing, she ain't no Jesse. I went, "Jesse?"

She went, "Yes?"

"Jesse?"

"What?"

"You're not Jesse. What the hell happened to my Jesse?"

"I am so Jessie. Who the fuck are you?"

"You're not Jesse. Jesse is a guy."

"I am Jessie. You can see I'm no fucking guy."

"Where's the guy who used to be here?"

"How the hell should I know, bitch?"

"Don't use that language with me, missy."

"You come barging in here and tell me I'm a guy and I can't call you bitch, bitch?"

"Yeah, I'm telling you that."

Then the guard came up 'cause we were too loud.

"What happened to Jesse Batten? My son? This little bitch here is not my son."

"I'm Jessie and darn right I am not your fucking son, you fucking moron."

Oh she's a fiesty one, this little tart, swears like a sailor. I wanted to pull her hair out. But I stopped myself. I am above that now. This is the new me. So I said,

"Look, you little twerp, I'm not talking to you. Thank god we're not related, because if I was your mother, I'd smack you good."

"C'mon you cunt, let's duke it out, right? C'mon." She jumped up and held up her fists, made like she was going into the boxing rink with me.

The guard separated us. But he didn't have to. I wasn't going to fight a little kid. I got pride you know. But man, she's a lively one, I'll give her that.

The guard took me to the office to sort things out. Well, I just can't believe what happens when you go away for a few months. Turns out Jesse was sentenced and let go. He had to spend six months in jail for mischief, but he'd already served that time waiting for his trial so when the sentence was made, he was already done. They let him go last month. But where'd he go? The guard and the superintendent hadn't a clue. They said he was 17, no longer a minor, so they let him go. They just thought he went home.

And Ogden? Same thing. He's gone too.

Well fuck me. Now my son is missing. I kicked up a fuss. They lost my son. He may not be a minor, but he's still not 18 so he's not an adult either. Who'd they hand him over to? They said there were people waiting for him and he knew them. Who the hell does he know? Must've been Og.

Then the superintendent pulled me aside and said the damnest thing. He said, "You know that girl in the cell? Her name is Jessica. She's been on the street since she was 14. 16 now. Got picked up for prostitution last month. She's still here because no one came for her. She has nowhere to go. Look at her. She can pass for 12. She sounds tough, but she's just a scared little kid, sweet when she's not fighting. The amazing thing is, we don't know how she survived two years on the street. She doesn't have a pimp. She's too old for child services, but too young to be on her own. We have to release her today. They're doing that right now, discharging her. Can't give her free room and board forever. Maybe you want to get to know her a bit, help her when she gets out. You know, do the good Samaritan thing."

Too much. That's just too much. No fucking way. I told him so. I came for my son. They gone and lost him. I'm not walking away with some replacement kid. Not even the right sex or right age or anything. And such a foul-mouthed little bitch at that.

So I went to the washroom and got myself together and left. I hadn't really figured out how to get back to the park but I knew I had to take the bus back into the city first. So I was walking and I pass all the prison fences and at the end, there was bench where you wait for the bus. There was a young girl there, with her back to me. But I could tell she was crying, like she's lost her mom or something. I got closer and that girl turned out to be that Jessie punk. She had mascara running down her face. She looked scary and scared.

She turned and saw me and quickly muzzled her tears trying to look tough. You can't help feeling sorry for her, even if you are disgusted at the same time. I got next to her and looked down at her. She's like a stray kitten needing a home.

"Scram bitch, I got here first," said Jessie.

"Shut up." I sat down at the other end of the bench. "Where're your folks? Why aren't they here to get you?"

"None of your business."

"Where you headed?"

"None of your business."

I looked her straight in the eye. "They told me in the prison you're alone. Where's your family?"

I could see tears were welling up in her eyes. She didn't answer.

I sighed with frustration. Someone give the girl a bath. So I said, "Look, you're too young to be living on the street. Someone should be looking after you and let you be a regular teenager. Where's your home? I'll take you back."

"Don't have one," she whispered. Well, she really is just a scared little thing. It bothered me that she's alone. She may be bitchy, but she's young, too young to be on her own.

The sky started to go dark and it started spitting. Great, now it's going to rain and I don't have an umbrella. The stupid bus was nowhere in sight.

"But you're waiting for a bus to go somewhere. Where you going to sleep tonight?" I asked.

"Don't know." She was just staring into space in front of her. "Don't want to talk about it."

So we just sat there quiet, getting cold and getting spat at by the rain. Seriously, I considered asking her to come home with me, I just felt so sorry for her. If she asked to come home with me, I probably would've said yes even though I don't want to look after her. Finally, the bus showed up just as the sky cracked open with thunder and poured out buckets on us.

Return of the Prodigal Daughter

I know. I've been away like forever. At least a few months. I got back yesterday. Billy just dumped me off his pickup at the park and here I am. I guess I'm glad to be home. But I'm really pissed off at everyone, even Sam and Leslie. Did you know that no one really noticed that I was gone, for months?

Sam and Leslie did notice, but they never bothered to look for me. They thought I was having an affair with Jon because they heard that Jon was having an affair. So they left it at that. There was an affair. But it wasn't me and Jon. Jon was having an affair with some other guy. I only found out about it today when Jon's mom told me. She noticed I hadn't been around, but Sam told her I was alright. Bitch.

Dean hadn't been paid for my site for months and he didn't think to find out what happened to me? He said he was keeping my spot because it wasn't like people were clammering to get into the park and my new trailer got delivered and was just sitting there in my space so he figured I'd show up sooner or later. Good thing he's not in the personal security business, he'd make a lousy bodyguard. But now that I'm back, I still owe him back rent. Fucking shit.

Turns out the only one who got kinda concerned, more like nosy, was Shannon. She even went into town once to see if she could bump into me. But didn't try too hard obviously. Not that I was in town. But still, what shit does one have to go through to get noticed?

But I'm not gonna let anything of this shit bother me. I'm above this petty mess now because I'm a new woman. How new? Well, let me tell you. Oh the shit I've been through.

Except I can't go into that now. I gotta go see Jesse. I gotta tell him Mitch really is dead now. Yeah, I seen him and talked to him. I might even have been the one who killed him. Is Jesse still even in jail? How come no one in the park knows?

17 Monkeys and a Postcard

One morning, a man drove into the park with a big van and got a site for the night. In the afternoon, he released 17 monkeys on the grounds. The monkeys ran around the park and ran onto the different sites to explore the occupants and their properties.

These were brown monkeys with white faces and white bums. Kind of like Curious George. Some of the kids were thrilled, some cried. Some people tried to whack the monkeys off their site with a broom or whatever they had. Most people just scratched their heads at the monkeys wondering what’s going.

Nash, one of the park residents, tried to gave beer to a monkey beer and tried to show him how to smoke cigarettes. The monkey ate the cigarette instead. The monkey man came running and cursing, saying Nash was corrupting his prize monkey.

Dean was beside himself. He said this is a trailer park for people, not for wild monkeys. He runs a campground, not a zoo. He was making such a ruckus about the monkeys and wanting to get rid of them that people said to him, “C’mon, calm down, Dean. They’re cute. Let’em stay.”

The monkeys’ owner, Abe Aberdeen, said he was an animal trainer. He was training these monkeys for the circus. He said the monkeys were not wild animals, they were highly trained performers. And to show how well trained the monkeys were, he blew a whistle in two short bursts. It was amazing. All the monkeys stopped what they were doing. It looked like monkeys came out of nowhere and ran to Abe’s site. Each monkey paired up with a partner and lined up two by two, in two straight lines, except for the monkey in front. He stood by himself. They all looked at Abe and waited for their next instruction.

Abe made a wide circle with his arm and the monkeys started walking around in a circle holding hands. When Abe clapped his hands, all the monkeys stopped, stood in two lines and faced Abe.

Then Abe said, “Front roll,” gesturing his hand in small forward circles low to the ground. The first two pairs of monkeys did front rolls across the grass.

Abe raised one arm over his head, said, “Twirl,” and made spinning circles with his other hand. The next two pairs of monkeys raised an arm each and spun slowly across the grass like ballerinas.

Then Abe took out a fiddle, held it up to his chin and played a few notes. He said, “Square dance.” The next four pairs of monkeys stood in a square facing each other. The lone monkey stood in the middle of the square. Abe played a dance tune and to everyone’s amazement, the monkey in the middle flapped its arms and stomped its feet, doing its own dance. The other monkeys did square dance steps. Sure, they bumped into each other but they sure did walk around in opposite directions, meeting up with new partners, almost to the fiddle’s beat.

Abe said to everyone, “We’re still working on that.” Turning to the monkeys, he said, “Bow to the nice people,” and he showed them how by bowing to them. All the monkeys mimicked him and made several bows to the people standing around.

The whole time, everyone was clapping, squealing, hooting and hollering. We were just so amazed to see monkeys could do these tricks.

Well there was nothing Dean could do but let the monkeys stay. He told Abe, “How are you going to follow each one to stoop and scoop?”

Abe said, “Sir, my monkeys do not defecate in public. They require privacy to do their business. They go inside the van.”

“You have to leave tomorrow or I could lose my operating licence. And keep them inside your van for the night.”

“You allow pets in here, sir,” said Abe, “these are highly trained pets, better behaved than some of your children here, I bet.” He looked around at everyone, and they clapped and nodded their heads.

It was such great fun. After that, people sort of went their own ways. Abe and his monkeys stayed more or less on his site. Some monkeys went off visiting.

Abe was obviously smiling with pride. He looked around and saw me still looking at him and the monkeys from my site. So he gave something to one of his monkeys and whispered something to him.

The monkey came bouncing up to me. He was holding something in his hand alright. It was a card. He shoved it at me. So I took it and put it down on the table and said, “Thanks.”

The monkey picked up the card again and put it back in my hand. He jumped up and down and went, “Eeek, eeek, eeek.” I guess he wanted me to look at the card.

The card had a picture of a camel crossing a busy city street as if it was the dessert, completely unaware it was stopping traffic. I flipped the card over. It was a postcard. And it was addressed to me at the park. It said,

Dear Mindy,

I hope you and Jesse are doing okay. I’m okay. I did what I could for you and Jesse. I guess this is it for us. I hope you have a good life. Good bye.

Love,

Mitch

The first thought that came into my head was, Thank god I don’t have to return the money. I’d already put in an order for a new trailer that’s got room for a few kegs of beer inside.

I Have No Son

I was so curious about seeing Ogden and Ray on the road last night that I had to go see Jesse in jail. I mean, what gives? Why's Og out and not Jesse?

To get a ride, I had to be real nice to Amy, one of stupid Shannon's friends. I went, "Hey bitch, whatcha doing today?"

"Nuthin' much."

"Wanna take me to Jesse's?"

"Guess so, I ain't got nuthin' better to do."

Amy isn't a bad sort. She's usually real accommodating and all. I just don't know why she hangs out with Shannon. The trouble with that lot is, they're real ugly and dumb and Shannon is the only one close to pretty and she knows it. So she hangs out with ugly people to make herself look better. I know how she works. And the bunch of them are too dumb to know she's using them to make herself look good.

So buck-tooth Amy drove her pop's car and got us to the jail. The guard at the gate told us we had to wait for Jesse to come back. For goodness sake, come back from where? He said he didn't know. That pissed me off 'cuz I had to be seen in public with buck-tooth Amy to get here and now I like owe her one, and Jesse's not here, and the dumb guard don't even know where he is or when he would be back. What, they just let prisoners wander around on their own and not tell anyone where they're going? At least he let us go wait in the waiting room inside the building instead of making us wait at the gate.

I got some coffee and just sat there waiting and smoking. But Amy, I can't believe it. She was flirting with this old geezer mopping up in the hall. I could hear her giggling and him snickering. Don't they know this is a jail and not a place for flirting?

A long time later, Jesse still hadn't come back, so I went down the hall to the entrance to check with the guard again. But holy shit. I'm walking down the hall and I see Amy and the janitor. He looked kinda familiar. I went up and said hi. He looked me up and down, scrutinizning like. He's an old lecher, I can tell you that. She's gotta be kidding if she's really considering him. He must be 70 or something close to it. Sure, he could've been good looking once, a long long time ago, like once upon a time. But he's all wrinkled, has that cracked leather face, with a big gut, and still got a pack of cigarettes tucked up his T-shirt sleeve.

"I'm going to check with the guard again," I said to Amy.

"Oh, okay," she said, "Hey, this here's Scottie."

Scottie winked at me, clicked his tongue, and pointed his thumb and index finger at me like a gun. God, that's familiar. I know this old geezer from somewhere. Even his name is familiar. But he don't look like he recognized me though.

"Scottie, do I know you from somewhere?" I asked.

"Hey, cut it out and find your own guy," said Amy.

"No, I'm serious. You look kinda of familiar Scottie, but I don't know where I met you before."

"I know lots of girls," said Scottie, "so if we've met before, I hope we had a good time." He winked at me again.

"See, he don't remember you," said Amy.

"Okay, whatever." I continued to the gate.

The stupid guard said yeah, Jessie's been back half an hour. Why didn't he come tell me? He said Jesse said he'd come look for me. Jesus. I'm just wasting all this friggin' time. So I went to look for Jesse and found him in his cell, just lying on his bed, reading. Ogden's bed was empty.

"Ferchrisake Jesse, what, you forgot I was waiting for ya?"

"Oh hi, mom. Good to see you too."

"What happened to Ogden? Thought I saw him in a car last night."

"He's not back yet."

"Where'd he go?"

"He went with his dad somewhere."

"Did his dad put up bail?"

"No."

"How'd he get out?"

"He just did."

"He just did how? He scaled the walls or what?"

"He left for the day."

"Can you stop beating about the bush and just tell me how he left without bail?" Just then, one of the inspecting guards walked by. I've always like this one. He's handsome and rugged looking. I stood up taller and thrust my chest out. Good thing I was wearing my mini top. Cleavage and an exposed midriff gets attention in a jail.

"Jesus, mom, can't you even stop whoring long enough to talk to me?" hollered Jesse.

What's the matter with him? I wasn't being a whore. What kind of a way is that to talk to your mom? "Jesse, don't talk to me like that," I said. "How dare you? I come to visit you and try to get you out and all and you call me a whore. How do you think that makes me feel?"

"How do you think it makes me feel when you're always coming on to every guy you see, even in front of me?" he said.

I have no idea what he's talking about. I always separate sex from my son. I mean, it's indecent mixing son and sex. He just has no idea how hard I try to keep him upright. "Jesse, I won't have you talking to me like that. I'm trying to help you get out of jail, I see your friend got out, you tell me without bail. How the hell did he manage that? He pull someone's string? He sucked someone's cock? Maybe I can do the same thing to get you out. I'm just trying to help you."

"Christ, will you listen to yourself? Don't talk to me any more."

What, what?! I'm listening to myself. What's he objecting to? There's no talking to moody teenagers. And mine's in jail. That makes him worse. "You know Jesse, sometimes I think you would rather stay in jail than come home."

"Home? Home? Where is home, mom? What does home look like, mom? Your fucking boyfriend burned down what home we had. Where do you think I would live if I got out of jail? Sleep in a fucking tent with you? Should I pretend to be asleep in the tent when you bring home meat to fuck?

"You want to know the truth? Ogden left with his dad on an overnight pass. You can get an overnight pass. I never told you because I don't want to go home with you.

And you know what else? I do like it here better. I sleep in a real bed. They give me real food. I work. I like the work I do. They let me volunteer at the school. I help out in the classroom and I get to teach the little kids how to read. They like me, the teachers and kids. They think I'm normal. The teachers think I'm smart.

"And here's what else. Even if you could put up bail to get me out, I don't want to leave. So don't bother raising money. I like it here. So don't fucking try to get me out!"

Well, that was unexpected. What a bastard son I raised. What kind of a son is he that he'd rather live in jail than with his mom? Screw him then. I have no son. I was so mad, I marched right out of that jail and slammed his cell door.

I marched past Amy who was still flirting with Scottie the geezer janitor. "Amy, we have to go, now!" I shouted.

"Whoa, whoa there horsey," said Scottie.

Whoa there horsey? Yup, I recognize him now. I know who Scottie is. Years ago, when I was 16, Scottie was my mom's boyfriend. When mom wasn't home one day, Scottie came over and we fucked. I didn't think mom minded. She was always bringing different boyfriends home and Scottie was sleeping with just about girl in town. So why not me? But boy, did mom get mad. The third time Scottie and I got together, mom caught us. She raised hell and threw me out of the house. I've been on my own ever since. Never seen mom since either. But I heard that she kept fucking Scottie a few more months after she threw me out.

Today, I would have kicked my son out of my house if I had one and I met the man who got me kicked out of home. Christ, I'm not having a good day.

The Outing

Leslie helped me get ready for my night out with Jon. She did my hair so it looked stylishly wild, not poky messy. And she loaned me a top. She said I don’t always dress right for my age. But of course I do. No matter what I wear, I’m always my age. Still, she made me wear her bland beige top with flounce at the wrist. But man, the same top looked completely different on us. On me, it showed lots of cleavage! I liked it. She tried to make me wear a sweater over it. As if.

I was sitting with Sam and Fred when Jon came to pick us up. Only, he didn’t come alone. He came with Herb!

“I ran into Herb at the gate. He was coming in to see you,” Jon said to Fred.

“Hi Herb, good to see you,” said Fred.

“But we’re all going out soon, so your visit will be short, Herb,” said Jon. “Unless you join us. Why don’t you come with us? We’re going for dinner, then dancing. Two lovely ladies here for your dancing pleasure.”

Sam’s face went stiff.

“Yes, that’s a great idea. Join us, Herb,” said Fred. “We’re all old friends here.”

“Well, gee, I...” Herb looked at Sam.

Sam breathed in long and said, “I am not telling anyone what to do, as long as we have fun tonight is all that matters to me.”

“There you are. We’re set then. You ride with us, Herb,” said Fred, putting an arm around Herb.

Jon put a helmet on me and opened the door of the sidecar for me. God, he’s a gentleman too. I never known this side about him. He makes me feel girlish.

We drove to the Hog’s Head in Fern Hill. As we were driving on the road, I swear I saw Ogden and his dad, Ray, driving the other way. I even waved at them, but they didn’t see me. What’s the deal here? How come Ogden’s out? Jesse didn’t say nothing about that when I saw him last time.

Jon put Bette Midler in his CD player. He said, “Don’t you just love her?”

Bette Midler’s okay. I personally like something more upbeat, like Pink Floyd or even the newer groups, like Jet. Then he said,

“I like what you’re wearing. You have such a good sense of style - voluptuous and vulnerable, simple yet glamorous. You should visit me some time and I’ll do your colours. I could even fix your hair.” Wow, he sure understands women.

“Jon, what kind of work do you do?” I couldn’t help asking.

“I’m a colourist. My partner and I run the beauty salon in Tattle Creek. You don’t come to us, do you?”

“No, I usually just go to the one in Wittle Lake. It’s closer.”

“But not better, darling. Ha ha ha.” Jon has a generous, gutteral laugh.

We got to the restaurant and ordered fancy steaks and potatoes. We had a pretty good time at dinner chitchatting 'bout this and that, not too awkward except for Sam and Herb. After, the band was good too. We all did line dancing with a bunch of people. For a guy with such good hair, I was surprised Jon wasn’t a better dancer. He’s not bad. He just always seems half a step behind and running to catch up. He kept going, “Oh, oh, gosh,” and he was laughing and giggling the whole time, saying, “This is so fun, so fun. I feel like Cinderella.”

It was fun. Cinderella? I like dancing. Jon was having such a good time that it was infectious. Once I brushed my breasts against him, and he went, “Oh, oh, oh, boobs in my face, you naughty, naughty girl.” He was so funny, I laughed my ass off. But I didn’t bump my breasts into him again.

Somehow, he reminds of how Bette Midler would dance if Bette Midler were a man.

Now Sam and Herb. I got nervous watching them trying hard to not look at each other and sometimes acting like they hadn’t heard what the other said. I mean, that’s not being natural at all. I’m not sure Fred noticed anything. He seemed so happy dancing with his wife and brother.

At one point, I had to go to the washroom, so Jon said, “I’ll come with you.” We got to the washrooms and he leaned over and said, “Just between us girls, something’s up with Sam and Herb.” Then he went into the men’s and I went into the women’s. He is observant.

When I came out, Jon was watching two women fighting in the hall. They were going,

“You took it without asking, bitch.”

“You weren’t wearing it. You wear my things all the time.”

“I don’t wear your things to hustle your boyfriend.”

“I didn’t know he was your boyfriend. Your name wasn’t on him.”

“When you knew, you didn’t stop.”

“I can’t help it if he likes the way I look.”

“In my top.”

Jon put his arm around me and giggled, “Someone should bitch-slap those two to shut them up.”

You know, Jon’s real nice guy and all but I don’t think I’ll get lucky with him. I suppose having another girlfriend is always good. Funny, me not noticing that before. He does look real good sitting on his bike though.

Freewheeling

I was still strolling along when I came to Hairy Gary’s site. His wife calls him that. Because of the hair all over his back. But even if I didn’t know that, Gary is still creepy. He limps with this slouch and is crossed eyed, so when he’s in a group, you’re never sure who he’s looking at. And he has this thin, whiny, nasally voice that he draws out all the words with an “n” sound, like he's always got a cold or something. I think he drools too, his mouth is always slobbering. You’d think a guy with so many defects wouldn’t be a bother to women. But no. Every time he sees me, he comes on to me. No kidding. He comes on to every woman he sees.

Soon as he saw me, he jumped up from his chair and limped over.

“Minnndy, Minnndy, Minnndy,” he snivelled.

“And what’s up with you, Gary?” I said.

“Ooh, wouldn’t you like to feel it, hehn hehn?” he said.

I shook my head. “You’re full of corn,” I said.

“You’re full of breasts in that tight T-shirt, hehehehe,” he said.

“How’s Frances?”

“Ah ha. You knew then? That’s why you’re here, begging for me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Frances is away. Left yesterday to visit her sister. She’ll be away for two weeks. Haheheeha, hahaha heeheeheeha.” He snickered like a donkey. “Mindy, you look fetching.”

“As fetching as Delores’ grandmother a few nights ago when you got drunk?”

“Well I’m not drunk now. But really, look at your plump breasts. I thought you’d be a grieving widow by now.”

“Huh? What’s my breasts got to do with grieving?” But I was glad I wore my good bra.

“I don’t know, but if you let me check them, I’ll try to find out. Hehuheehuhehe.”

I rolled my eyes. He's a moron and he can be so ridiculous, but so damn funny too.

“Come, have a drink with me,” he said. “Come sit for a while. You got nothing else to do.”

Shit, he’s right. I got nothing better to do. He’s got beer. And I was feeling generous on account of Jon asking me out for tomorrow night.

“Alright.”

So we sat down and started drinking. Gary sat too close to me and kept touching me, slobbering and drooling all over the place. After a while, he said,

“Want to see my nine inch nail? I’m really good at hammering it in. Ha, hahahunhunhe.”

Now, you have to understand - a few beers, someone stroking you, you stop being so picky.

“Gary, is that all you ever think about - how to get laid?” I said.

“What? What do you think about?” he said. He got me there. “Come into the trailer and I’ll show you my tool. Hehehuhhuh.”

Although I was getting in the mood, I wasn’t all that keen on Gary. He was kind of repulsive. But then he said,

“Shannon jumped at the chance.”

“Get out, you did Shannon?” I almost screamed.

“Uh huh. She liked it too. She’s been back a few times.”

“Where do you do it? Frances is always here.”

“Behind the trailer. I keep my tool box there. For real.”

I could see that. All the trees, bush and thicket back there make a good cover.

“One time,” continued Gary, “I told Frances I’d show Shannon my tool box so she can borrow a hammer, hahaheehe. We went back there and did it standing up. The whole time we were doing it, we were watching Frances walking around in her housecoat, smoking her cigarettes, and chopping wood. She had no clue. Heheheehe.”

I could see that too. Frances is always flapping about in her housecoat and slippers. She must be at least 10 years older than Gary. Sometimes I think they’re mother and son.

Gary kept stroking the side of my breast with his stubby chew down fingers. One thing led to another, and next thing you know, we were in his trailer and I’m measuring nine inches with a tape. What was I supposed to do? I’m a woman. There’s a huge cock in front of me. Gary kept shoving it at me saying, Take it, take it.

So I took it.

For a creepy guy, I guess he was an okay fuck. Except he kept trying to kiss me on the mouth. I had to push his head away and say no. I don’t kiss guys I fuck. I only kiss guys I am in love with. And his big cock? It wasn’t as big a turn on as I thought. It looked kind of deformed, like Gary. Okay, it wasn’t such a great fuck on account of him being so creepy. Stupid fucking Shannon.

Mr. Right-For-Now

I gotta get a job. If that black man’s family came looking for his money, I’d have to give it back. Meanwhile, I gotta support me and Jesse. And I need regular sex. I can’t think straight and plan my life when I’m distracted by wanting it all the time.

My doctor wants to put me on some anti-stress pill but I don’t want to. He said maybe I shouldn’t do them kegel exercises no more, ‘cause doing them makes me horny. But I was in town once and I was using the girls joint. There was this woman janitor cleaning the toilets. I don’t know how we got on the subject, but she said, women gotta do kegel exercises. They keep your uterus in place. Everyone says different things. You just don’t know who to believe.

I was walking around the park, thinking and trying to plan my life but not being very good at it when Jonathan Bailey started walking beside me.

“Hi Mindy,” he said, “How’ve you been?”

Jonathan lives in town. His mother used to live with him there and comes to the park on weekends. Now she’s at the park full time and he comes to visit her most weekends, for the home cooked meals, he says. His most prized possession is his 1948 Harley Panhead with a sidecar. I seen him cleaning it at the park. He’s got good hair and looks pretty good in his undershirt posing on that bike.

He’s sort of my hero because he gave me tons of good stuff when my trailer burned up, even a small TV that I could plug into the electrical post. You only get one channel in the park, but it’s better than nothing. And when Jessie got arrested, he gave me a gnome, the kind you put in your gardens. The gnome looks cool sitting beside my tent, sort of guarding my stuff. I don't even have to take him in when it rainis.

“I heard about Mitch,” he said, “I’ve always liked him. I’m so so sorry, darling.” And he pecked me on the cheek.

“Ah gee, thanks Jon. That’s nice of you to say that,” I said. Who knew a biker guy like him could be so sensitive.

We were just walking and chatting when Dean came storming toward us, going, “Jesus, Jesus Christ. Ah, so fucking messy.”

“What’s messy, Dean?” I said.

“The Logans. Jesus.” He rushed down the road to the Logans’ site.

“Oh, I heard about them!” said Jon.

“What about them?” I said. “What’s happened?”

“Their trailer got blown up last night.”

“What? Who did it?”

“His wife.”

“What? Carol? Why would she do that?”

“Carol is not his wife. She’s his sister.”

“Get out! No shit? He’s been fucking his sister?”

“Yup. His wife found out about them setting up house in the park. She came to the park, drove by their site and threw a stick of dynamite at their trailer.”

“God, some women are so possessive of their husbands. Were they hurt?”

“Ah-uhn. They weren’t there.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Well, after she blew up their trailer, she got out of the car and started crying and screaming and shouting at the trailer. Everyone heard and asked questions. She freely told them.”

By this time, we too got to the Logans’ site. The trailer was burnt and broken alright. But it didn’t look too bad. You could probably still live in it. Dean was talking to some guys. So we just walked on by.

“So Mindy,” said Jon. “Earlier, Fred and I were talking and we really want to have a night on the town. With you going through some pretty rough times, I was thinking you’d like to join us, to have some fun for a change.” He was all excited, waving his fingers about. “My treat, honey. Dinner and dancing with Fred and Sam, and of course, me.” Jon patted his chest with his fingers.

Am I hearing right? Jon’s asking me out? There are rumours in the park he’s not quite straight. But I’ve drank beer with him plenty of times and I never noticed nothing. And now his asking me out proves he’s straight.

“Jon, I’d like that very much,” I said.

“Alright, I’ll come by at 6:00 to get you tomorrow, darling.” He flicked a kiss at me with his fingers and waved good bye. That Jon, he’s always honeying and darlinging everyone.

But did that make me feel good or what? Jon is just the coolest. When he comes to the park, he’s got that Shannon bunch oogling and ogling at him and flirting and laughing with him all the time. But he’s never asked any of them out. He’s come over a few times and brought cake that his mom made. He’s always thanking me for helping his mom with stuff, like pick up the garbage on her site or carry water from the pump for her.

The only thing about him is sometimes I see him in his white undershirt in front of his mother’s trailer slugging back beer. And he’s got opera, for frig sake, opera, blasting on the radio. But what the hey, maybe I’ll get lucky with him anyway. I’ve never done a friend before. But it’s not like he was all that up close and personal a friend, which I wouldn’t mind getting with him now.

Yeah, it’s time I consider having a real relationship with a man. Maybe he could be my practice relationship, on account of he could be one of them funny boys.

Oh Where Oh Where Can He Be?

It took over a week, and several trips going to the army headquarters and the General or his aide coming to my park to sort things out. In the end, it didn’t get sorted out right for me. They decided that dead black man was my Mitch. Can you imagine that? And they transferred me Mitch’s pension, life insurance and death pay. What about the poor black man’s real family? They oughta know he’s dead. That money belongs to them.

It was so ridiculous. I told them Mitch was white when he enrolled in the army. He was white the last time I saw him. And that black man, he don’t look nothing like Mitch. They said, well, he’s 6’2’’, so was Mitch, he was 245 lbs, so was Mitch, he had brown eyes, so did Mitch, he had brown hair, so did Mitch, he enrolled in the army 10 years ago, so did Mitch, he had a wife called Mindy and a son called Jesse, so did Mitch. Like, all the particulars about this man were exactly the same as Mitch’s, except he don’t got Mitch’s face and he ain’t Mitch.

And here’s the thing, Mitch checked off “Caucasian” on his army enrollment application. That mean, white guy, right? But every picture they had of Mitch was of that black man. I don’t understand how this could be. When did they get this dead man mixed up with my Mitch? Know what else puzzles me? How come Mitch was in Iraq with no one from his old squadron? He got sent to Iraq by himself. No one knew him there. No one knew what he looked like before he went to Iraq. And now suddenly, Mitch came back a dead black man. How come the army didn’t chase that down?

Instead, they put in their file I was too shocked and upset about Mitch’s death and could not make a positive identification. They’re going with their own records and certifying that Mitch is dead and his body returned to his family. That poor black man, returned to a stranger’s family.

And the bank. They say Mitch never had an account with them. They knew nothing about the money that Mitch saved up over the years. They just know that every month, I was getting a deposit from the army.

And now, I got all that money in my account - $185,000! Because the government put it in there. I don’t want to spend any of it in case the dead man’s family shows up later. But I have no money. Mitch’s money for this month never came in. I gotta dip into that man’s money until something happens. I don’t know what I’m waiting for to happen though.

Sure, the army paid for the funeral, but I still had expenses. They made me go to the funeral and I had to buy a dress. There weren’t a lot of people at the service. Obviously, none of them knew the dead man; none of them knew Mitch neither. I didn’t want to bring everyone from the park, except Sam and Leslie. But they were there for my sake, to make sure nothing crazier happens. I didn’t tell Mitch’s parents either. I mean, c’mon, that’s not Mitch.

It was awful. People started giving me their condolences. I couldn’t say, Hell no, that’s not my husband, I never seen him before until he showed up dead, that’s just some stranger they mistook for Mitch. I didn’t want to sound like a bitch and cause a scene. I mean, whether he’s my husband or not, he’s still dead and don’t deserve to have a scene made at his funeral.

I haven’t told Jesse about any of this yet. What was I supposed to say? Oh, while you were in jail, your dad officially died. But it wasn't him. The government gave us a dead black guy for your father, but then they gave us lots of money too, even though I said the dead guy's not my husband. And because that money belongs to the dead guy’s family, I can’t use it to bail you even though it’s sitting in my bank. And your dad, well I have no idea what happened to him or where he is right now. Actually, that sounds good. Maybe I’ll go with that when I see him.

That is the biggest question, Where is Mitch? What happened to him?

Who's That Man?

The General came back in the afternoon and brought me flowers. Sam and I had done our crying already. I wanted to get this ID thing over with, but I needed time to get used to the idea of Mitch being gone. So we told the General to come back the next day to take me and Sam to the army morgue.

That night, people came to say their condolences. Word got out already. I don’t remember who came, I just remember I didn’t go to bed till late.

The next morning, the General was back. He had an aide with him this time. They walked with me and Sam out the park. Everyone was watching. At the gate, Dean nodded and said, “Hope things work out, Mindy. Good luck.”

We got into the limousine. It was the fanciest car I had ever been in. The aide gave us drinks and food. Gosh, bubbly and orange juice in the morning! And some crescent rolls, real buttery, light and fluffy. They really know how to live, these army guys.

I’m sad that my husband died. But I wasn’t as upset about it as I thought. I mean, Mitch hadn’t really been around the last ten years. I only saw him every six months or so, right? And each time only for a few days. I had my own life going. I hadn’t even seen him for over a year now. I miss the idea of him. Him? Not so much. But I don’t like the idea that I am a widow.

We drove for over three hours. The army head office is outside the capital - it’s a huge place, like a suburb all its own. All along the road, there were barracks and small buildings. Not especially pretty. We finally pulled into a parking lot and walked up to a big building with the national flag all over the place. If you didn’t know this was army headquarters, you’d still suspect the building has something to do with the government.

I was nervous going in. I’ve never seen a dead body before, even though this one is Mitch. The aide took us into a room with big black armchairs. We waited a while, then he and the General came back to take us to the morgue.

Morgues are morgues. No matter if they are in a hospital or in the army building, you still feel creepy knowing you’re going into one. The hallway in the basement had all these doors that were closed. You don’t get an idea of what’s in those rooms, you can’t even peek in a window or nothing.

The aide stopped in front of one of the doors, pulled out a set of keys and opened the door. Yup, it’s the morgue alright. It’s cold inside. He went up to a big drawer, checked the name on the front and pulled it out. I stopped about 10 feet from the drawer.

“Mrs. Batten,” said the aide. “Would you come a bit closer and identify him please.”

Sam put her arm around my waist and we walked up slowly. I couldn’t even look at the body. I was almost right beside it before I turned my head to look. Then I looked and I looked. I looked at him this way and that. I walked around the body and looked from the other side. I bent closer and peered at the face up and down. Sam looked too. She walked around with me and looked. Her eyebrows were cringed in a perplexed way, looking like I felt. The General said,

“Mrs. Batten, is this your husband, Mitchell Batten?”

I look at him, then at the aide. I looked at Sam. I could barely speak. Sam said,

“Have you make a mistake?”

The aide quickly checked the name on the drawer and the papers in his hands. He looked at the body, checked the photograph in his file and said,

“No, m’am, there is no mistake. According to our information, this is Mitchell Batten of Wittle Lake. Mrs. Batten, Is this your husband?”

I said, “No, this is not Mitch. I’ve never seen him in my life.”

The General and the aide huddled in a whisper. Me and Sam formed our own huddle. Then the General turned back to us and said,

“Are you positive, Mrs. Batten? An expired body often doesn’t look as… well, as animated as the man you’re used to. But the facial features are essentially the same.”

“General Glover,” I said, “I don’t expect Mitch to be talking to me telling me that’s his body lying there. I expect he might look a little different. But when you’re dead, you don’t change colour, do you? You don’t suddenly become a difference race soon as you die. This here is a black man. My Mitch is not black.”

The General said, “Mrs. Batten, it’s been a long time since you last saw your husband…”

“What? You think I forgot he’s black or something? This man is not my husband.”

“But all his records and identification show that he is Mitchell Batten.”

“His name may be Mitchell Batten, but he’s not my Mitch.”

The General looked at Sam and said, “Is this man familiar to you?”

“No, I’ve never seen him before. Mitch is white, like you and me, like all of us in this room, not black.”

“Well,” said the General, “Let’s return to my office and we will review all the documents.”

Talking To The General

No one died. No one’s hurt. Just because I got the hots for Ogden, don’t mean I can’t fuck his dad. It was just a bit of a shock meeting him that way. Ogden is 29? I thought he was much younger. But that means he’s not Jesse’s peer. Which makes him more fuckable. We are consenting adults after all. We will be anyway.

I didn’t tell Ray I was Jesse’s mother. It didn’t feel right talking about it. I don’t mix sex and Jesse. I did wonder if I shouldn’t catch a ride with Ray to the prison to see Jesse but decided against it. I wanted to go home and change. So Ray, sweet guy, dropped me off at the park before he went on his way.

Once I was settled in front of my tent, Sam came by.

“Hey, you recovered yet?” she said.

“From what?

“Last week.”

“Oh. Almost. And you?”

“It was mostly my hands that got bleached. But I’m okay. Liz come home yet with the new baby?”

“Yeah, hadn’t seen much of them. They’re their usual quiet selves. What’s new with you?”

We were just catching up. I told her about meeting Ray and she was laughing like a crazy person when a man walked onto my site. He was in his fifties, real stern looking, wearing a black suit. He must be the man who was looking for me last week. I had forgotten about him. When he got close, I said,

“Hey, looking for me?”

“Would you be Mindy Batten?” he asked.

“That’d be me.”

“Are you be married to Mitchell Batten?”

“That’s me.”

“Mrs. Batten. I am from the Army Reserve, 11th Brigade. I am the home officer in charge of the squadron that your husband Mitchell was assigned to. My name is General Sydney Glover.” He stuck out his hand to shake mine. Then he turned to Sam and said, “You must be a friend of Mrs. Batten’s. Hello.” He shook her hand too. He was a real gentleman despite the grim look on his face.

“That’s a striking hair colour you have, Mrs. Batten. May I call you Mindy?” he said.

“Sure, everyone else does,” I said.

“Mindy, I’m making a duty call to you today. I’d like to take you to our office in the city so I can relay some information to you. If you have family or a close friend you’d like to bring, we could accommodate that as well.”

“What’s going on? Is this news about Mitch? What’s happened to him?”

“Or I can relay the information to you here if you prefer, Mindy.”

“Tell me here. Sam is my good friend. She can stay for this. Saves me telling her later.”

“Mindy, the news I have to deliver is not good.”

“Oh crap! What now? What’s Mitch done? Oh for chrissake.” I put my head in my hands. Sam started rubbing my back, saying,

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Let’s hear what the man has to say.”

“Mindy, I came to look for you as soon as we knew. But you weren’t here last week.” He reached over and took my hand. “Mindy, Mitch was killed in action. His body arrived in the city yesterday. I would like to make arrangements with you to come identify the body.”

Sam gasped in spite of herself.

“What?” I screamed. “What do you mean killed in action? What kind of action? Mitch was a cook. A cook in the army. How could he be killed in action? He never fought in the field.”

“Mindy, I know this comes as a shock to you. I’m so sorry,” said the General. He was still squeezing my hand. I shook him off.

“Are you sure it was him?” I said.

“We made a positive identification. He had all his ID on him. His battalion ID’d him. But we also want you to come to identify him. When you are ready, of course.”

“What happened? How did he get in the field?”

“Well, he wasn’t quite in the field.”

“Where was he?”

“He was in the camp kitchen.”

“You guys got bombed?”

“No. Mitch had an accident. He fell.”

“What? How? You better tell me what happened.”

“Mitch had a little too much to drink. He argued with the new chef.”

“What? He was killed by…by one of your chefs? Someone on his own side?”

“No, no, no one killed him. Mitch argued with the chef. That’s all.”

“What did they argue about that Mitch should die for it?”

“We are unable to verify that of course. However, there were witnesses who claim that they argued about whether real clam chowder contains tomatoes.”

“Mitch never made clam chowder at home.”

“That apparently was one of Mitch’s specialties. He put tomatoes in his.”

“So how did he die? What happened?”

“The new chef does not put tomato in his chowder. Mitch wanted to convince him clam chowder is better with tomatoes. Witnesses say they were both quite inebriated. The new chef stormed out of the kitchen. And Mitch set about making a chowder with tomatoes. But he was unsteady. The army does not condone alcohol of course, especially in Iraq, where alcohol is not permitted. We are not sure where Mitch obtained his whisky. We only know that he had quite a high level of alcohol in his blood when he died.

Mitch cut up tomatoes for the chowder. But like I said, he was unsteady. He dropped a lot of tomatoes on the kitchen floor. At one point, he slipped on the tomatoes and banged his head, quite hard. Actually, he hit his head on a large iron grill. He died immediately. Mitch did not suffer, Mindy.”

“What? How can someone die from a single fall?”

“Mindy, it’s rare, but it happens. Especially if you hit the back of your head, hard. Unfortunately, it happened to Mitch.”

“My god, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe this has happened. I can't believe you're telling me this. Now what? What’ll happen to Jesse and me?”

“We’d like you to come and ID the body, when you’re ready. Then we will return the body to you for burial. The army will cover the expenses of course.”

“Is that why there’s been no money coming into my account from Mitch?”

“I don't know anything about any arrangement Mitch may have made for you. However, once we take care of the administrative details, we will be able to pay Mitch’s pension and insurance money out to you. And because the death took place while he was on active duty, there will be additional compensation as well. I don’t know what the total amount of these payments will be. But I have arranged for you to see our administrative personnel to get the details and to sign papers to release the funds.”

Sam was hugging me and crying.

“Mindy,” said the General, “I will take my leave for now. I will come back this afternoon. If you are ready to go identify the body then, I will have a car ready to take you to our office. Otherwise, we can arrange for another time for you to come. Do you have other family or friends you’d like to be with right now?”

“No, no. I have no family near. I don’t want Jesse to know until…well until I see Mitch to make sure it’s him.”

The General left us. I was just stunned.

This was devastating news. My Mitch gone. How will I tell Jesse? I guess I should identify the body first, get whatever payments are coming, then go from there. My god, I am completely alone in the world right now.

At Wits End

Leslie worked at a pub called Wits End. Shannon drove us there without getting us killed. At 8:30, the place wasn’t full yet. Lots of men were standing by the bar or sitting by themselves at tables. There were tall ones and short ones, young ones and old ones, muscular ones and skinny ones. Oh my. There must’ve been 20 men by themselves in that pub. I’ll have my pick tonight.

All the men turned and smiled at us when we walked in. Leslie and another waitress were working. She waved at us and pointed to a table in the corner. We went and sat down.

Leslie came over to take our order. Shannon and the others ordered two drinks each right away.

“What about you, Mindy, what’ll you have?” said Leslie.

I said, “Girls, why are you here, in this pub?”

“We came to drink,” said Molly.

“And to meet men,” said Babsy.

“Well then, why are you ordering drinks?” I said. “How will a man break the ice if he can’t buy you a drink? He won’t want to if you’ve already got a few in front of you.”

“We can drink more than one, you know,” said Babsy.

“That is just no class at all, a woman sitting there with several drinks in front of her,” I said. "You look like a cheap whore in need of a drink, not a classy woman in need of a man.”

“Oh. Okay, I’ll just have one drink, Leslie,” said Molly.

“Me too,” said Babsy.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to keep with my drinking buddies. One only for me please,” sang Shannon.

Leslie shook her head and went to get their drinks.

Over the next half hour, more people came in - women by themselves, couples, and more men. I was checking the guys out to see which ones I liked when this older man came up to me.

“Hey pretty lady, what’re you drinking?” he said. I turned and winked at the girls. “I bet you’d like a screwdriver, won’t you,” he said. He was direct, this one. And a little drunk already. He was too old for my liking, but not shabbily dressed. Travelling through likely. I didn’t want to settle for this one right away when there were so many to pick from.

Leslie came up and put a beer in front of me. She nodded at a young, muscular guy at the bar. “From your friend over there,” she said.

I turned to the older man and said, “Can I take a rain check on that drink? I’m going to say hello to my friend over there.” I picked up my drink and walked over to the bar, glad to get rid of the old codger.

Soon, I was at the bar with several guys around me and we were chatting and laughing. The band started playing so you have to shout even when you’re talking to someone right beside you. It means you have to lean real close and nuzzle someone’s ear in order to be heard.

Body language. You have to know body language when you’re man hunting. I have great body language with a tart accent. Me and these guys, we’re all hanging together because we want to see who I’ll have sex with tonight, and the ones I don’t fuck, they want to get in line for another time. See, no misunderstanding.

How do I know this? Look how I never sit up straight. I’m always draping myself on one man or the other with my arm, leg or body. And I always thrust my breasts out at whoever is in front of me. I touch the man I’m talking to - stroke his chin, arm, back, leg, or butt. Not just touch. You let your fingers linger there so they feel your heat.

My T-shirt helped too. They’re all making like they’re just following instructions to squeeze my boobs and I’m making like I don’t want them to. That way, you keep them all interested. They all stay ‘cause they want more.

Shannon gets it. See how she leans her body into that man behind her while she’s talking to that other guy? But Molly and Babsy - no one’s talking to them. They’re just hangers on to what Molly’s doing.

Things were going pretty good for me. But then that bitch Shannon stood up and walked over. Somehow she’d ditched her sweater. She was just wearing her cardigan, with the top buttons open, and she had cleavage, and her nipples showed through her cardigan. She sauntered by with one hand held up and purred, “Hello boys,” stroking every guy around me on the jaw.

All my guys, they turned their heads to watch her wiggle down the hall into the ladies room.

I struggled for words. Me, a pro at keeping men’s attention. I said, “You like that do you?”

They muttered, “Yeah, no, she’s nice, but you’re nice too”. Oh fuck off and die already.

After that, the guys got all awkward and straightened up, like they just woke up or something. One left and stood by the hall, probably to wait for fucking Shannon to come back. One just went back to his table and sat down. One ordered me a drink, then said, “Excuse me.” I never saw him again for the rest of the night. Another one stood by, all embarrassed and uncomfortable. So I sent him to sit down with the one already at the table. I needed a break from flirting. I’m not going home empty-handed tonight. I needed a new plan to snag me a man.

I hate that bitch Shannon. I went back to our table where Molly and Babsy were and sat down. All that work wasted. I am not going to give her the satisfaction of going home with anyone either. Just wait till you get back, bitch.

The old guy who wanted to buy me a screwdriver earlier came over. He said,

“Can I interest you in a dance?”

Well, why not? I didn’t want to sit there with the ding dongs. And I didn’t want Shannon to come back and see she’s crashed my party. So I got up and danced with him.

“My name is Reebus,” said the screwdriver man.

“Beavis?” I said.

“No, Reebus, Reebus,” he shouted. “You can call me Ray. You are very beautiful.”

Well now he’s talking. For an old guy, he’s got good dance moves. He’s got rhythm and seemed sure on the dance floor. He moved real close to me and push his groin into me. Wow, good equipment. Then he moved back and twirled me round and round. Somehow, I adapted my moves to his. But I made sure I brushed my breasts against his chest and arms every once in a while. I couldn’t help it. Every now and then, he touched my breasts, but ever so subtly, like it was an accident.

“We make good moves together,” Ray said.

“We’re on fire,” I said.

After about half an hour, he said,

“Would you like a drink now? A screwdriver, perhaps? Or straight to the screw?”

Oh he’s so sassy.

“Yes, all of them,” I said.

So he took my hand and led me outside. We got into his car and drive to his motel by the edge of town. We ran into his room and were almost naked before he could lock the door.

Oh my god, it was just the best fuck ever. I really wanted it. We were all over each other. Who knew an old guy like that could do it twice.

In the morning, I said,

“What’s your name again?”

“Ray.”

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, I came here to see my son.”

“Where’s your son?”

“He’s about an hour away in the city.”

“What does he do?”

“I’m not sure. He’s 29 and single. He does bits of this and that to get by I think. He’s actually a resident of Wittle Lake. He’s got a room somewhere here. But he got into a bit of trouble a while ago and is spending some time in the county jail right now.”

“Did he commit a crime or something?”

“I’m not sure. I think he and some kid set fire to a solid waste sanitation truck.”

“No kidding.”

Oh Jesus Christ, I know I just fucked Ogden’s dad.

Gussied Up

I was so desperate for sex I was even nice to stupid Shannon the gossip whore. I saw her when I went to the showers. She had just finished and was talking with Leslie. When she saw me, she said,

“Oh, how are things going with you, Mindy.”

I hate the way she singsongs when she talks, always trying to sound so faky chirpy and phony concerned at the same time.

“I’ve been better, Shan,” I said. “Hi Leslie.” Leslie was my other good friend. I was hoping Shannon would leave so I could talk to Leslie.

“Mindy, I came looking for you a couple of times, but you were out. You okay?” said Leslie.

“Yeah. Just been busy.” I said.

“We’ve been so worried about you too,” said phony baloney Shannon.

Yeah, as if. Shannon’s husband left her four years ago for a younger, blonder, boobsier bimbo, or maybe she was the young, blond, boobsy bimbo so he left her. When the marriage broke up, she moved in with her parents in the park. She supposedly looks after them now. But there's nothing wrong with them. They were fine before she got here. They are still fine.

“I’m just getting ready for work,” said Leslie. She works as a waitress at a pub in town. “I’ll finish late. Are you around tomorrow? How about I come by when I get up?”

“I’m here, unless I get a ride to see Jesse,” I said.

“Oh, the girls and I, we’re going into town tonight. To have a few drinks, maybe meet some guys.” said Shannon. “Hey, maybe we’ll go to Leslie’s pub. You want to come with us?”

What? Shannon the lying canon asking me to go out with her bimbos? I’d rather be nailed to the toilet floor than to be seen outside the park with her. But then it’s a night out. And I might get lucky. I need to get lucky. Shannon is just transportation, a ride, ‘cause that’s all she’s good for. And now she can be my ride. Oh I can be so funny sometimes.

“Sure, Shannon, I’d love to go,” I said. Leslie gave me that wide-eye you-know-what-you’re-getting-into? look. “You driving?”

“Yeah,” said Shannon, looking surprised and regretting her invitation. But she recovered immediately. “We’re meeting at the gate at 8:00. Don’t be late, or we’ll go without you. Ha ha ha. Ta, ta.” She wiggled down the road to her site.

Leslie said, “What’re you doing? You really going to spend the night with that bunch?”

“I get lonely,” I said.

“Oh god, the things you do for sex. Get them to come to the pub. I want to be there to see you hanging with her.”

So I got showered and dressed. I had $10 from what Sam loaned me. But how I operate, I don’t pay for my own drinks. I have principles. If a guy can’t buy you a drink at a pub, he doesn't deserve to have a go at you.

I can get used to this short hair. You don’t have to blow dry it or anything. You just mousse and gel it and you look sexy and real dangerous with your hair standing up. I put on my best bra that lifts and separates. The trick to attracting men for sex is to put your boobs up front where they belong. I got good, noticeable boobs. They just need a little help with positioning sometimes.

And if you got a good ass like me, show that off in tight jeans and heels. You gotta stand up straight too, not hunched over like you’re afraid of what men are thinking. Red lipstick is a must. Makes men think about blow jobs.

I wore my red T-shirt with “Squeeze Here” across the front in big bold letters. And I wore my red fuck-me pumps to match my lipstick and T-shirt. God I looked classic. Simple but hot. I feel six inches taller already.

So I get to the gate just before 8:00 and the other two girls were already there. We were just waiting for Shannon.

“Hey, I heard you were coming with us,” said Molly.

“How come you never came with us before,” said Babsy.

“I wanted a change,” I said.

What was I supposed to say? I don’t like you and I don’t want to be seen with the likes of you? Even standing there waiting, I didn’t want to talk to these two ding-dongs. Look at them. Molly has a drabby long-sleeve shirt on. Where do her boobs end and her stomach begin? And short shorts? She’s too fat for them. And Babsy, she’s got on a blue and green striped sports bra, with chains and beads hanging off her neck. A man would choke on her junk if he tried to kiss her neck. And for god sakes, she’s got on sweat bell bottoms, with a stripe down the side of the leg. Who does she think she is, Sporty Spice?

Shannon came running up with her dyed blond hair all twisted in a knot on top of her head. She was wearing a pink sweater and cardigan set, black pants and black flats. What kind of look is that? Where’s the sex appeal?

She said to me, “You look good, trussed up. I mean, all dressed and gussied up like that.” Shannon curled her lip in a smirk.

The bitch. I have to ditch this bunch when we get to the pub.

Brambleberries

The hospital treated me and Sam for bleach burns. Except my hair was still green, and now dry and burnt. Parts of it was red. I never had red hair before. I guess it was the brown dye already in it that reacted with the bleach.

The Emergency nurse asked a bunch of questions about my health. Would you believe one of the questions was, "Are you pregnant?" How did she know? Was I showing already? I had to say yes.

She went, “Really?” Then another nurse took like ten tubes of blood from me. After, the first nurse came back and said, "Are you sure you are pregnant?”

I said, “Well yeah. If you don’t want to believe me, why’d you ask?”

She wanted to know all kinds of stuff about my periods too. Later, she got a doctor to examine me. He prodded and poked me in every which way. Only, I didn’t enjoy it and I wasn’t allowed to touch him back. Finally, he announced that I wasn't pregnant. I never was. I had no sign of having miscarried or anything. Can you believe that? So what was with that test I did?

"Goes to show," said Sam, "you can't trust those drug store kits."

But it was such a great relief, finding out I'm not pregnant. Me and Sam bought some shirts at the hospital gift shop to wear. Then we went into town to see if Mitch’s money came in. It still hadn’t. Bummer. But we saw some of Choojah’s apple pies at the Super J. He’s now putting blackberries in his pies as well. So we bought one with the blackberries for Kieran and Leanne as a present for having the baby. It was all we could afford. Sam didn’t have any more money on her. When we got back to the hospital, it was almost noon. Liz had a boy. She and the baby were asleep. They looked real peaceful sleeping together.

Sam and me drove back to the park to tell Kieran and to give him the pie. He really sucks at social skills, that man. I gave him the pie said to him,

“Congratulations Kieran, you have a son.”

He said, “Mindy, what’s that smell on you?”

I said, “Kieran, I just told you you got a son. You want to know what I smell like? Are you coming on to me?” Really, I went like that at him just to see him shit in his pants.

“No, no, Mindy,” he said, “I just wondered, because the smell is so strong.”

I left him. My feelings were hurt. Really, I gave him a present and all. I know I wasn’t looking my best, after the night I had. Because of his kid too. Partly anyway. And I didn’t appreciate everyone in the park gawking at me, saying, What happened to you? Why do you smell like that? All week, they were like that. Like I wanted to be that way. You don’t see me going up to that retard Denis and saying, God, why’re you crippled? Or gawk at fat Susan and her kids and say, Geez, why’s your whole family so ugly and fat?

I needed to get my hair fixed but I had no money for the salon in town. So Daisy came over and cut it for me. She had to cut it real short. I now had short, spiky, mostly green hair with bits of red in it. I felt totally butch. Every time I went into town, you get to see the dykes come out. They were the ones staring at me, giving me the look like they want to get to know me better. I know that look, I gave them plenty of times. But to guys. I’m not into chicks no matter what I look like or how horny I feel.

The day after my haircut, I visited Jesse. He was doing okay. They finally found Ogden’s dad and he was coming in. But oh my god, did Jesse ever have a bird. He said, “Mom, you look retarded. Can’t you just act like a mom once in a while?”

What was that supposed to mean? Lucky for him, Ogden said he didn’t think I looked retarded at all. He liked the way I look. He said I reminded him of a Marilyn Monroe with short hair, like a sexy misfit. Then he did something pretty sexy himself. I was standing with my back against the wall, just kind of leaning back, holding out the bowl of raspberries I brought for Jesse. Ogden came up to me, put his right hand on the wall near my head, leaned in towards me, and looked me deep in my eyes. So I picked up a raspberry and put it in his mouth. He held my finger with his lips till he swallowed the raspberry, then walked away. Whew.

When I got back to the park, I saw a new trailer drive in. Newcomers to the park. That evening, me and Daisy walked around the park. I saw the trailer at one of the newer sites. A young couple was setting up. They had a tarp up already. They brought stoves and tables and chairs and lamps. They look like they were going to stay put for a while. We stopped to welcome them.

Turns out they’ve been coming to the park for two years. I don’t remember them at all. I’ve never seen them. But Daisy said they did look kind of familiar. They’ve been coming for weekends here and there. But this time, they’re setting up house year round. They still work in the city during the week. But they wanted to be at the park every weekend.

Nice couple. Their names were Robert and Carol Logan. Both tall with wavy, reddish brown hair, good looking, probably in their thirties. God, they almost look like brother and sister. He’s a biologist and teaches at the university in the city. She works for some kind of environmental conservancy agency. Carol said,

"Bobbie loves that the park is so close to all kinds of wonderful outdoor activities. Don't you, Bobbie?"

And Bobbie said, "Yes, it’s almost like living in the wild here. You can commune with nature even in this park."

Tell me about it. Try living in a fucking tent forever and ever. I asked if they had kids, but they got all embarrassed and stammered, no, no, no.

On the way back from our walk, we passed their site again. Robert and Carol were no longer outside. God, you’d think we lived in an X-rated park or something. They were at it inside their trailer. Really at it. The trailer was sitting there shaking all by itself, so much you think it was possessed. But we knew it was the wild sex going on inside with the two of them. You can hear the moaning, banging into things and trying to muffle their screams.

So me and Daisy tried to walk pass their trailer discreetly. But little Edie and Simmie came running up chasing their dog, Bob. The dog ran around the trailer and the kids ran around after him calling, Bob, Bob, stop it, stop it. Suddenly, the trailer stopped moving and all went quiet inside. The kids, they looked at the trailer, noticed the silence and shrieked, “Aaaah…” They ran away laughing and screeching, now with Bob barking and chasing after them.

Me and Daisy walked away fast too. It was pretty funny.

It’s not good for me to know when other people are having sex. Makes me feel so left out. And it’s been so stressful lately I need me some man love. I know I look freaky, but I need to get fucked. Tonight. And I don’t know why I was thinking it, but I kept thinking about Ogden.

In The Moonlight

Sam gasped when she saw the blue window on the stick too. She snatched up everything and shoved them in the bag.

"You girls okay there?" hollered Fred.

"Fine, fine," said Sam. "Just picking up things for slippery fingers here." She handed the bag back to me and squeezed my hand. She said, "I'm just going to walk Mindy home. Nice to see ya, Dean. See ya later, Fred."

She hustled me off towards my site. We kept squealing, Oh my god, Oh my god, all the way home.

"The test must be wrong," I said. "I didn't do it properly."

"Did you pee on the stick?" said Sam.

"Yeah, but I stopped in the middle of it."

"But you got pee on the stick?"

"Yeah, but I didn't finish peeing."

"Well that doesn't matter. The stick just needs to be wet with your pee. It doesn't need a lot. My god, Mindy, what if you really are pregnant?"

"Shut up. The test is wrong. 'Cause if it's not, then I'm fucked."

"Like that didn't happen already."

"That's mean."

"Sorry. Do the test again in the morning. Just to make sure. Want me to be here when you do it?"

"Help me pee?"

"Urrr...I could. But I was thinking help you do the test properly and just be here to look at the stick with you."

"Yeah, I'd like that."

We sat around my tent and started drinking beer, eating cheesies and smoking. It was a warm night. We sat in lawn chairs in front of my tent and put our feet up on the picnic bench. It felt good to be off my feet. When it got dark, I turned on the lanterns. The moon came up too. I was real glad Sam was with me. The full moon makes me lonely. But Sam has this thing these days about learning to be a witch so she likes the full moon. It always feels like a party when Sam's around, even though it's just the two of us.

Sam is my best friend because she's always helping me and looking out for me. She practically helped me raise Jesse since we moved into the park. She's got a good head on her shoulders. Tonight, Sam was all jittery. She said,

"Fred is such a good man. He's decent and so brave."

"Yeah, he is. Why're you saying that about him, Sam?" I asked.

"I'm feeling jumbled. About life, about Fred."

"Is he okay? Is he still in remission."

"That's just it. He was. But this week, his PSA went up."

"Oh no. How high?"

"It was at 8. His doctor wants him to do another test in two weeks to see what change there is."

"God, I'm so sorry. No wonder you're so worried." I leaned over and gave her a hug.

"That, and Herb," said Sam.

"Herb? Fred's..."

"Twin. Look, don't think me a cheap jerk, okay? You know Herb was incredible support to me throughout Fred's illness. He comes by often still to see me. We have a special understanding."

"You guys fucking?"

"Yes."

Good old Sam. She doesn't mince words. "Who's feeling bad about that?" I said.

"I am, because I feel so guilty. Herb does. He feels guilty too. And Fred would, if he knew."

"When did you start, you and Herb?"

"Last week."

"But they're twins."

"So?"

"So it's like you're with the same man. What're you feeling bad about?"

"If only it's that simple." Sam was obviously feeling stressed about this Fred and Herb thing. She took out a joint, so we smoked it.

"You guys doing it everyday?" I asked. I was a little jealous, because I wasn't getting any since Mick and I broke up. Oh, I eye men all the time, but it takes work to get a man interested. You don't want any old bugger begging to drop his pants for you. See, that was another bad sign - it was too easy with Mick. And besides, without my trailer, I have no privacy. And I'm expecting Mitch home soon so I don't want to complicate things. Still, I miss the sex.

"No, we only did it the once. I tell ya, they may be twins, but they're very different men," said Sam.

"Oh for god sake, Sam. You done it once? That's nothing to feel guilty about. It's not like you did it a hundred times. Once is like you bumped into each other in the hallway said hello."

"But we may do it a second time, and a third, and a fourth. At some point, I'm cheating on Fred."

"I see. You're planning to cheat on Fred because you want a relationship with Herb."

"What?"

"You're talking like you want to swap Fred for Herb. You plan to feel bad about it. You know, sex is just sex. You can have sex with someone ten times and you're still not in a relationship. It's not what you do with your body that counts, it's what you do with your heart. I've never cheated on Mitch with my heart. But I have needs and Mitch is not here. Mitch might get upset if he knew I was getting my needs met without him, so out of respect for his feelings, I don't talk about my needs to him. You and Herb - unless you plan to ditch Fred, don't worry about it."

Sam was gazing up at the moon. She said, "The full moon is witness to everything we're saying, you know. But you're right. I don't plan to get rid of Fred so nothing to worry about. Right now, we make sure his prostate is taken care of. Any way, the moon goddess watches over us. Things will turn out fine. But you know, Mindy, I don't know half the people you sleep with."

"I barely know them myself."

Sam and I burst out laughing at that one and clanked our beer bottles.

"Speaking of knowing, you know how're we gonna raise money for Jesse?" said Sam. "We're gonna be matchmakers."

"Like a dating service?"

"Something like that. In old times, there were matchmakers going around introducing people to each other. If they get married, the matchmaker gets a chunk of money. We can do that. And we will provide personal services too. We will specialize in making the woman look beautiful so she can really impress the guy. We organize three dates for them. If they get married, they pay us a finder's fee."

Sam pulled out a second joint. I like getting high with Sam. She gets really inspirational ideas and makes things work. I think she and Fred got married when they were high, and they made their marriage work.

"How much is finder's fee?"

"We'll charge at least $5,000 per find, plus expenses."

"That's better than bake sales and car washes."

"You bet. We know lots of people - in the park, in town, out of town. All's we got to do is make sure we can do make up, dye hair, cut hair, go shopping with the woman, turn her into a fantasy woman."

"You know how to do that?"

"Oh baby, how hard can that be? You read fashion and make up magazines, don't you? You just follow what they do. Look how I turn out all the time. I just do what those magazines say to do..."

It's true. Sam looks amazing all the time. You wouldn't know she's not a natural platinum blond. I love when she wears that leopard halter top with her tight jeans and cowboy boots. She doesn't look 54 at all. No way. Once, she got all dressed up to go to a dance. She was striking. Imagine a hot pink strapless gown, split up the thigh, with fishnet stockings and open toe gold heels. Me, I'm a little on the plump side. But Sam put me in a bustiere once, and man, my tits were spilling over my tube top. You should've seen everyone gawking in town. I think that was the night I met this great guy in the pub and we had the best fuck ever in his car.

"...can get all the supplies from the beauty depot at the Tattle Creek mall anyway. But bleach is bleach," Sam was saying.

"Sam, I think you're onto something," I said. "But you go to a salon to get fixed up."

"Exactly," said Sam. Oh, she's excited now. "I've been so many times I know exactly what to do."

That's true. That practically makes Sam an expert. And I do read fashion magazines all the time so I know what looks to go after. I was excited now too. "Look Sam, we just practise on each other a few times. I bet we can make anyone look beautiful," I said.

"That's what I'm talking about," said Sam. "Practice makes perfect." She looked at me, "Let's do it then. Now."

"Okay."

"You got bleach?"

"Yeah, why?"

"To bleach your hair!"

Well, why not. I'm no pansy waiting to wilt.

I took the small jug of Javex from under the picnic bench and gave it to Sam. She found my dish basin and poured the jug of bleach in.

"Alright. To the moon goddess, may she bless everything we do in her bright light tonight," said Sam. She raised her beer.

"Yeah, to her, and the light," I said, clanking her beer bottle with mine. Then we had a long drink.

"Water, we need water," said Sam. "You can't use straight bleach."

We took the basin of bleach to the tap at the vault toilet and added water to it. Then we brought the filled basin back to my site and put it on the picnic table. We didn't lose too much water on the way. Sam lit another joint. Where were all these joints coming from?

"To our project!" toasted Sam. She took a deep toke and passed the joint to me. Then she took a deeper swig of beer to wash it down.

"To our project!" I echoed. Yes, we will be stunning. We will be rich. Yes, lots of people will be having lots of sex. Yes, I will have sex. Yes, to life! I too drank to our success.

"Okay, dunk you head in here," Sam pointed to the basin.

I checked to make sure I had a bra on, then took my shirt off. "I don't want to wet my shirt," I said, throwing the shirt on the grass.

"Good idea," said Sam. She pulled her sweat shirt off too. "Use this to mop up any spills." She put her sweat shirt on the table. See, Sam's always so stylish. She had a red lacy bra on. Me, I stick to basic black.

"Sam, I got towels. Hanging up there." I said, pointing to the clothes line.

"Okay. But my shirt's wet. I want it off anyway," said Sam.

I bent over forward into the basin of water. Sam gathered my hair and dunked my scalp in. Oooh, the water was frigging cold. I was having a brain freeze. Sam swirled my hair around making sure all the strands were soaked in the bleach water.

"Just keep your head in there for about 30 minutes," she said.

"Thirty minutes?" I lift my head. The water ran down my face and body. Ccccold.

"Stop it. Put your head back in," ordered Sam. So I did.

She swished my hair around soaking up my whole head. After a few minutes, I was getting a headache being bent over like that. My back hurt too 'cause my boobs were getting so heavy. It's not natural to be in that position without a man behind you. And the water was getting up my nose. It stank of bleach.

"Sam, I gotta get up. I can't hold this position much longer," I said.

"Okay, let me wrap you up." So Sam took her sweat shirt and wrapped it around my hair turban style. That was better. "That's like putting your hair in an oven to cook in the bleach."

Thank god I could stand up. I walked around moaning and groaning with a towel drying my body and stretching out my back and arms. Really, my back and head hurt. I threw a towel at Sam so she could wipe herself dry too. She was sitting in the lawn chair drying herself, but she was doing it in such slow motion. That was cool.

And at that moment, my neighbour Kieran, at the next site, he came out of his trailer. Sam and I waved at him. He came over, trying not to look at us. He said,

"I think Liz is in labour."

Holy cow! We had to get her to the hospital. You wouldn't believe how suddenly Sam could move so fast. It was like someone pushed a button and put Sam on fast forward.

"I'll get my car," she shouted, running towards her site.

I towelled off my head and shook my hair out.

"You smell funny," said Kieran, looking down at the ground.

"We gotta get Liz to the hospital," I said. Kieran and I went into their trailer to get Liz.

"God, Mindy, what's that smell on you?" said Liz.

"I was doing my hair," I said. We helped Liz out the trailer just as Sam came driving into their site. We all got in and drove off. Me and Sam in the front seat, with Kieran and Liz in the back.

At the the gate, Liz said, "Who's looking after Leanne?"

Holy shit. We forgot about her. Kieran said to the window,

"I'll stay to look after my daughter. I'd be much obliged if you ladies help my wife get to the hospital to give birth."

He pecked Liz on the cheek and skidaddled out of the car right. Well, we were on a mission. So Sam drove straight to the hospital.

Sam stopped the car in front of Emergency and shouted, "We need a doctor and a wheelchair."

A nurse came out and said, "Which one of you is the patient?"

"She is," I screamed, pointing into the car. "She's in labour."

The nurse looked into the car and gestured at someone inside. An orderly came out with a stretcher. They helped Liz get on and the nurse wheeled her away. The orderly said to us,

"Park then come back in. I need to get patient information from you and I can give you some hospital gowns."

Sam and I looked at each other. We were still in our bras. Only they had white streaks and blotches in them. Sam's hands were all red. My body and face felt all dry, itchy and burning. I needed to get washed or something.

When we got into the hospital, the orderly gave us two gowns. He said,

"Maybe you'd like to use the ladies' room to freshen up first?"

We nodded and went to where he was pointing. Inside the washroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. My face and chest were all red. My hair was all kinky and mostly green.

The clock in the washroom chimed 3 a.m.