Saturday, June 22, 2024

Trailer Park Vignettes – “Heat Index, Part Three”


 


c. 2024 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(6-24)

 

 

The afternoon was unbearably hot for Townshend Carr Lincoln, despite being inebriated and soaked to the skin with spilled beer and dribbles of Tennessee whiskey. His rural trailer enclave had reached a temperature of 100 degrees, something out of the ordinary for June in Ohio. Yet he refused to surrender the liberty of sitting outside, on his wooden bench. Something he had done every day of the year, since January. He persisted in becoming drunk and disorderly, though there were no spectators to take offense at this rowdy behavior.

 

Then, a notification popped up on his cell phone.

 

“Attention, all Evergreen Estates residents – don’t forget that we have a meeting of the community association today, at our public library right off of the township square! We’ll be discussing important information about conditions in the park, coming increases in lot rent and water bills, and also the ‘open borders’ policy for our ownership group, which is allowing undesirable outsiders to purchase homes on the property. Come and make your voices heard! Come and join our citizen army!”

 

The alcoholic hobo was far too tipsy to drive his pickup truck. But as he sipped brown liquor straight from the bottle, a second notification appeared on the screen of his device. A message from Darby Stronelli, who lived on his eastern flank.

 

“HEY LINK! I KNOW YOU’RE PROBABLY BLITZED BY NOW, BUDDY! BUT THERE’S A GET-TOGETHER UP THE HILL AT FIVE O’CLOCK. YOU WANNA RIDE WITH ME? TERI JANE BACKED OUT, SHE’S GOTTA DO SOMETHING WITH HER HUSBAND AT THE HOSPITAL. AND FAWN KERN IS WORKING THE WHOLE WEEKEND AT HER PIZZA JOINT. C’MON DUDE, DON’T MAKE ME SIT THERE BY MYSELF! RIDE WITH ME!”

 

Lincoln was weak and acquiescent, because of the high-proof fog that filled his brain.

 

“Yeah sure, I’ll go with you. This has been a boring day so far. I could use some entertainment...”

 

The spiky-haired female was pleased and excited.

 

“YOU NEVER GO ANYWHERE, OR DO ANYTHING! THIS IS GREAT, LINK! MAYBE WE CAN HAVE A DRINK AFTERWARD, AT THE CROSSROADS TAVERN? THEIR JUKEBOX HAS ALL THE LATEST COUNTRY TUNES!”

 

Her contrarian cohort across the yard laughed and squeezed beer foam out of his whiskers.

 

“Hey Darby, I’m already loaded! I’ll probably fall asleep at the library. Especially if that jackass on the corner starts preaching about his political horseshit! I couldn’t give a rat turd about his committees or petitions or righteous protests...”

 

Darby tingled with a feeling of regret. Suddenly, she realized that inviting her cranky friend to the gathering had been a tactical mistake.

 

“LINK, YOU’RE GOING TO KEEP COOL IN THE CONFERENCE ROOM, RIGHT? THERE’LL BE A LOT OF PEOPLE SITTING AROUND US, PEOPLE WHO KNOW YOUR REP IN THE PARK. DON’T MAKE THINGS WORSE, OLD FART! JUST GO WITH THE FLOW! WE’RE TRYING TO MAKE THIS SPOT BETTER!”

 

Lincoln grumbled four-letter words. He was not sober enough to restrain his tongue.

 

“Look, do you want me to go or not? I can’t sit on my hands and listen to speeches about goodness and light, and cleaning up our little junkyard village. This place is a dunghole, everybody knows it! We all live here because we’re flat broke! So, screw the smoke and mirrors, just tell the truth and let it be known. Okay?”

 

When they arrived at the library, there were already more than two dozen vehicles in the parking lot. Rusty, jacked-up 4x4 rigs, rotted-out minivans and SUVs, and an assortment of economy cars never intended to still be in service after 30 years on the road. There was a line waiting at the front entrance. Guests were being processed one at a time. Each participant had to show identification that proved they lived at the isolated development, and then sign paperwork to document their presence.

 

Once everyone had found a seat in the shared space, Linn Speck called the group to order. Instead of dressing formally to signify his position as the head of operations, and legal liaison, he wore apparel for the bygone Cleveland Indians. A franchise of Major League Baseball now known by a newer, more politically acceptable handle.

 

“I’d like to begin our meeting with the Pledge of Allegiance. Will you all stand please, and put your right hands over your heart?”

 

Lincoln had just managed to sit down, and find a resting spot for his mismatched canes. He was shaggy, disabled, and not in a cooperative mood.

 

“Dammit Linn, I just plopped my ass on this stacking chair! Don’t make me wiggle off my spot! My legs are still throbbing from the walk into this place!”

 

The rotund organizer shuddered slightly, and coughed.

 

“Alright then, you’re excused! Quit making a fuss about it already! Now everybody else, repeat after me... I pledge allegiance to the flag...”

 

The facility’s HVAC system had been cranked full-on, in view of the steamy conditions. So, everyone in attendance was comfortable enough. Yet their banter soon turned caustic, as residents began to impulsively debate costs of living in the park that were being willfully inflated by their owners. Many voiced echoed these sentiments, without inhibitions.

 

“WHAT ABOUT THE WATER & SEWER BILLS? WHAT ABOUT THE LOT RENT? WHAT ABOUT THE FINES FOR STRAY DOGS AND CATS, AND WEEDS, AND LOOSE SKIRTING?”

 

Linn had a gavel carved from a chunk of lumber left from a scrapped trailer. He hammered it to gain attention from the unruly mob.

 

“Order! Everybody, come to order! I’ve got a proposal to read, before we discuss regular business. This is something that Haki and I wrote last night, at our kitchen table. I think you’ll all agree that it makes a lot of sense. My wife has a good grasp of what will stand the test of legal challenges. Ahem! Read it, will you honey?”

 

His spouse stood tall on her gold, platform sandals. She wore a floral sundress that billowed and swayed as she spoke. But her voice cracked as she tried to project a tone of authority.

 

“Resolution One: We the people of Evergreen Estates believe that our community should be self-governed and responsive to the input of residents. We ask that Jonovic Holdings, LLC create a board composed of their representatives, and members chosen by this park to look after the needs of our neighborhood, and to maintain the standards associated with living on this property. So help us, God!”

 

Lincoln belched and scratched his facial hair. He reeked of perspiration and booze.

 

“We need God’s help living in our dump! I won’t argue your point, lady! But it’s a damn campground for losers, not a governed entity. Not a city with officeholders or elected wonks. We’re pigeonholed like birds in a chicken coop!”

 

Linn swung his crude gavel again.

 

“That’s the point, Link! We want to form a real government here. Right now, anybody and everybody can sign a lease and move in, we’re at the mercy of the thugs that run this place! That’s how people like Darcy Trelane and her father can get away with being booted out, and then crawling back inside, under the fence! It’s time to put a stop to this lunacy! Once and for all!”

 

His opponent from up the street chortled and brushed away pork-rind crumbs before responding. His Harley-Davidson tee was damp and sticky.

 

“They weren’t booted out of here, man! They freaking left on their own! Who gives a shit if they come back again? It don’t matter to me! That’s one less empty home on the list. It means the owner’s revenue goes up a little, and maybe we don’t get socked with increases so quickly...”

 

The community potentate huffed and nearly broke his gavel in half.

 

“IT MATTERS TO ME, YOU KNUCKLEHEAD! IT MATTERS WHEN SHE’S WAVING HER PRIDE FLAG OR EVEN WORSE, THE PALESTINIAN COLORS! IT MATTERS WHEN HER FREAK FRIENDS COME CALLING FROM CLEVELAND! IT MATTERS WHEN THEY SMOKE DOPE AND CACKLE AT REGULAR FOLKS LIKE US WHO BELIEVE IN GOD AND AMERICA AND THE CONSTITUTION! IT MATTERS TO EVERYONE WHO LIVES AT OUR PARK!”

 

Lincoln leveraged himself to a vertical position, with difficulty. This maneuver moved the conference table sideways. Then he grabbed his walking implements, and bowed gracefully, before turning to the exit door. A flask protruded from a hip pocket in his athletic pants.

 

He was going outside, to have another nip of strong spirits.

 

“Enough of this childish shit already, I’m outta here! Darby, I’ll be waiting by your car!”

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