c. 2024 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(4-24)
Spring at Evergreen Estates began with a weather pattern typical for Ohio. Days that were unseasonably warm and bright soon surrendered to more bouts of snow, freezing temperatures, and hail. This made for a yo-yo of conditions that kept local meteorologists on their toes. And put residents of the trailer community on notice that seasonal changes were not yet finished.
Mother Nature seemed determined to project her wrath upon the Midwestern landscape.
But when a dry, sunny day arrived in April, after Easter, Linn Speck decided that it was time to embark on a new project to raise funds for his favorite charity. Namely, his own household. The balding, stocky fellow donned a necktie and suit jacket, as if he had planned to attend a service at the township’s ‘Church of the Lord Jesus in Heaven.’ Then, with wife Haki also smartly dressed for worship, the pair began to carry enhanced copies of the Christian Bible from street to street. They were cheerful and smiling at every stop. A sales program modeled off of the Amway pyramid had gotten their attention. One initiated by associates of former president and business tycoon, Donald J. Trump.
At each encounter with a possible buyer, the conservative resident read aloud from a brochure sent from Mar-a-Lago, in Palm Beach, Florida. His spouse would echo the tone of this missive.
“POTUS 45 has come out with a new offer which we would like you to consider. A MAGA marvel! Did you know that he has a version of God’s word which was published with his blessing? The Trump Bible contains lyrics from ‘God Bless the USA’ by Lee Greenwood, offered in handwritten form. It also includes the US Constitution, our Declaration of Independence, and the famous Pledge of Allegiance taught to so many students in grade school...”
Linn added his own pitch to this document, with a breathless assessment of the deal he was offering.
“The Trump Bible is only $59.99 if you act now! This offer is a true work of charity, because each volume costs twice as much to produce, with all of its frills! Our once-upon-a-time chief executive is providing it to you as a gift of love for the nation! Anyone interested in selling the book can do so by joining his literary group, for a minimal membership fee. Then, those same individuals can recruit more sellers, to support their place in the business! Each tier of participants under a person increases their own revenue from total sales. It’s a can’t-lose proposition! Show your faith in God and America, and get in on the gold rush! Do it today!”
Reaction was positive at almost every mobile home. Until the pair paused at a blue, boxcar dwelling, owned by Willie Trelane and his daughter. Instead of being greeted by the greasy-pawed mechanic, they were jolted with the voice of Darcy, his modernist offspring. Someone often called ‘Miss Poindexter’ around their community, because of her thick, black glasses and buzzed-off hairstyle. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt that blazed rainbow colors, and pajama leggings with cartoon characters. Taco Bell sauce dotted both garments.
“Heyy, nobody ever comes to our place! Except for the park manager, Dana. She’s always hanging messages on our doorknob. They come in those little, plastic sleeves, you know? I think it’s bad for the environment! Greta Thunberg would not approve!”
Haki was radiant in her floral dress and matching, high-heeled pumps.
“Do you have a Bible in the house? Even if your answer is yes, I bet it isn’t one like this! Let me show you President Trump’s version of the holy word! A steal at only $59.99 per copy!”
A noise like someone sucking melted ice cream through a straw wheezed from their target. Then, the drop-out student shook her head and laughed wildly.
“TRUMP? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? I WOULDN’T TAKE ANYTHING FROM THAT DISGUSTING CLOWN IF YOU GAVE IT TO ME FOR FREE!”
Linn was rattled. Sweat poured from his jowls.
“I’d prefer that you showed more respect for our former president, Miss Trelane...”
The short, chubby girl grinned like an alligator pondering its next meal.
“YOU’RE A JACKASS! HE’S A JACKASS! I THINK LIZ CHENEY WAS RIGHT, HE OUGHT TO READ HIS OWN SCRIPTURES! ESPECIALLY THE ONE SHE MENTIONED, EXODUS 20:14!”
The flabby entrepreneur was somewhat confused.
“Wait, what chapter and verse did you say?”
Haki covered her face and sighed heavily. Embarrassment made her blush.
“Exodus 20:14, honey. It says ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery.’ Oh my!”
Darcy pounded her swollen chest like Tarzan’s lady friend and eventual wife, Jane Porter.
“Anyway, I hope you do well with your campaign, neighbors! Have a nice day!”
Her front door slammed so violently that pieces of vinyl siding flew across the deck.
The pair had one more manufactured hut to visit, at Lot 13. It was an austere longbox with ripped-up skirting and a ramp built by the Community Action agency in Ashtabula. A venue inhabited by someone thought to be the least social citizen in their rural oasis.
Townshend Lincoln had two modes of operation. Drinking, or sleeping. Anything else could not seem to hold his interest. He was sitting on a crude bench, nestled in a boxy recession in the west side of his prefab hovel. He had not showered in a week. His long, gray beard reeked of bourbon and beer. When he saw the faith partners walking up his driveway, a sense of dread took hold. Yet obliteration clouded his brain.
He was already tipsy.
“Here’s a warning friends, I started doing shots of liquor right after breakfast this morning. So, I would tread lightly, okay? Don’t be fooled by my good looks and fine personality. This old hobo is very, very drunk!”
Haki brushed golden curls out of her face, and smiled.
“Link, I know we’re not the best of friends, but let me tell you about a grand offer on a good read! Are you familiar with the Trump Bible? My hubby ordered copies from the publisher, and we are selling them for the retail price of $59.99...”
The contrarian loner leaned forward, over his knees. He felt dizzy.
“A Bible? You’re trying to sell a Bible in this junkyard hideout?”
Linn sputtered while speaking, and wiped saliva from his mouth. He had forgotten to shave before leaving on the promotional excursion.
“These volumes have been moving quickly, Link! Everybody wants in on the game! I couldn’t do this well if I had Browns souvenirs! We’ve got one more copy left in our bag! It’s yours if you’ve got the cash!”
Lincoln blew out a stream of brew foam and snot. Then slouched in his seat.
“I’ve got a Bible, neighbor. A Gideon Bible that came from a woman who used to live here 20 years ago. She died from a stroke, right in her living room. I’ve got a Catholic Bible that was at a yard sale in Chardon. It only cost me a buck. I couldn’t bear to see it being sold at such a crazy, low price. I figured it would fit in my library. I’ve got my King James Bible with a zippered cover, which was what I carried as a kid in Sunday School. And I’ve got a big-print Bible, New International Version, that my second wife bought because it was getting harder to read the small print during worship services...”
The pair of parishioners coughed and stared straight ahead, in astonishment.
“YOU ACTUALLY OWN A BIBLE? EVEN MORE THAN ONE?”
The cranky oldster nodded and gestured victoriously.
“Yes I do! Yes I do! So I’ll thank you to go on your way, folks. I’m very familiar with your good book, and your savior. Remember, he once turned water into wine, as a miracle! My trick is to turn Miller High Life and Evan Williams 100-proof into piss! Which is what I need to do right now! Have a good damn day!”
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