A Stroll In The Park

Jesse didn't know about me and Mick. Mick came to the park about once a week to clean the toilets. Jesse knew Mick stopped by our trailer sometimes, to have a beer or to socialize. But it was always during the day. It's when I knew Jesse was away that Mick and I went inside to get the lust out of the way. But Mick never stayed till morning even when Jesse didn't come home for the night.

One day, Mick was in the park again vacuuming the toilets. Jesse went up to him and gave him what for. He was still mad at Mick. Mick wasn't very adult about it. He actually made things worse. He flicked his cigarette ash in Jesse's face and called him names.

"It's all over town, you and Ogden. Everyone seen you. You're just a little faggot - Og's boy toy - that what they call you these days? Ha ha ha ha."

Jesse shoved Mick into the side of his truck. But Mick was stronger. Mick pushed Jesse back hard and made him fall down. He hovered over Jesse.

"Why you're just like a girl, weak and falling all over. Lucky you're not a real girl, cause if you are, I'd do you the way I do your ma. Mother and daughter - I screw 'em both!" He stuck his arms out and pumped them back and forth, making humping motions with his hips at the same time. Some people walking by stopped to watch. "But you're just a little punk, the way your ma is a little whore. Ha ha ha ha..." he said with evil in his voice and walked away. I knew Mick was chicken shit and a liar. Now he' a bully too. I hate him.

That's how Jesse came to badger me if I'd slept with Mick. Technically, we never spent the night together sleeping so I told him no. But Jesse wouldn't believe me.

"You're a traitor," he bellowed. "You betrayed dad. And me. You are a whore." Jesus, he was angry.

"Stop it, Jesse," I said, "Don't talk to me like that. I'm your mother."

"I have no mother. I live with a whore." He was crying now. Well, what can I do? I don't want to be around a crying sissy who don't understand I'm human and can get lonely. I left him to visit Travis and Daisy. They have cigs and they're always good for a laugh.

Travis wasn't home. so I sat with Daisy. They live in the trailer five sites from mine. They're one of those park residents who have a house in town. But they rent it out to a family with little kids. Travis works in town. I seen him at the installation service part of the hardware store all the time. He's one of those guys that you contract to go to your house and fix things. Daisy is a homemaker like me. She is claustrophobic so she won't live in her house. She prefers the park. Said a trailer is easier to keep clean than a house. You got that right. A tent is even easier to keep clean, cause if it's not clean, it's okay. No one expects a tent to be clean. In fact, you expect some dirt and mess in a tent, otherwise, it's not normal.

Daisy is a great gossip. On account of her not working during the day, she knows all kinds of stuff about the park and who to keep an eye on. We sat around her trailer, smoked and talked some. About two hours later, she said, "Let's go for a walk." So we went walking around the park.

At the other end of the park, we came to Kandir Choojah's trailer. He's an Indian fellow. He used to be real skinny when he first moved into the park. It was kind of scary when you looked at him. Here was an old guy with balding long white hair and if you looked too hard at him, you might see through him. That was, what eight years ago? But now, he's obviously been putting on the weight. Especially since he started making apple pies. He's not just rounder. He looks younger and taller somehow. The pies must be a good business for him.

Choojah and his wife don't eat meat. They're vegetarians because of their religion. He discovered his baking talent a few years ago when he took his grandkids apple picking. They came back with 18 bushels of apples. I guess they got carried away. The grandkids took some home, but they still had like 17 bushels left. So everyday, old Choojah went inside his trailer and made apple pies. His wife took the pies to the Super J's in town and sold them. Super J put up a sign that says Home Made Apple Pie. It has a picture of a farmer's wife on it with a farm in the background, so you think the pies were made by her in the country, not by old Choojah in his trailer. The pies flew off the shelve like hot cakes. Get it? So every Fall since, Choojah picked tons of apples and made pies in his trailer.

I could smell Choojah's pies as we got close to his site. Daisy said to me, "Smell that. What do you smell?"

"It's the apple pies. It's smells delcious."

"Yeah, but what else? What else do you smell?"

"What do you mean?"

"Turn this way and take in a deep breath. What's that smell kind of inside the pie smell?"

We were standing there sniffing Choojah's pie smell when he came out. He was licking his chops and burped, like he'd just had a feast.

"Ooh, hello," he said, fumbling with a bag of garbage in his arms. The garbage was spilling over at the top. Fast food wrappers came tumbling out. He was quick to snatch them away and stuff them back in the bag.

Ha, I get it now. Inside that apple pie smell is the smell of all beef patties, sauce, lettuce, cheese, and pickles on a sesame seed bun!

Daisy said, "How's it going? The pies sure smell good."

"Thank you. This batch almost done, ya?" said Choojah, tying up his garbage bag to make sure nothing spilled out.

We waved goodbye and continued on our way. When we got out of earshot of Choojah, I said,

"Really impressive. Did he eat all those burgers?"

"I'm sure he ate some. But the rest he didn't eat."

"What'd you mean? How'd you know?"

"He didn't eat all those burgers."

"Maybe he didn't eat them all today. Maybe he ate them over a few months and just took out the garbage now."

"No. He has a big sack of burger wrappers like that everyday."

"Wow. He sure like his burgers."

"No, you idiot. He can't eat all those burgers every day."

"No. He just eats them in the Fall."

"Exactly. He only buys them in the Fall. When he makes his pies."

"You mean..."

"Have you ever eaten one of his pies?"

"No, but I hear they're real good."

"Yeah, because they've got meat in them."

"In apple pies?"

"He puts them in."

I was bowled over. Jesus. That IS the smell of Bic Mac and apple pie in one.

By this time, it was getting pretty dark. Aside from the pie smell, another smell was wafting through the air. If I turned to face Choojah's direction, I smelled burger apples pies. If I faced the park entrance, I smelled sewage. Or was it the other way around?

But it was definitely sewage. People around the park started to complain.

"God, where is that smell coming from?"

"It's like it just sits in the air over us."

"Did our toilets overflow?"

"No, the park owner just checked. They're fine."

"It's like having shit all over us."

After coming out of the nice pie smell, I get the shit smell. I hate that smell. It just so reminded me of Mick, who I want to forget. Jesus.