c. 2024 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(6-24)
Lulu McCann did not give much forethought to having a house guest at her trailer in Evergreen Estates. She simply wanted to help someone who was stranded so far from home. Yet it did not take long for her neighbors to become nosey and suspicious. Outsiders in the rural park were few in number and always stood out immediately. They never stayed anonymous for long. This was a characteristic of living in a community that was isolated and distant from any other population center in the county. Visitors and immigrants were always the subject of gossip. But as the temporary resident in her spare bedroom planned his return to Hawaii, a crescendo of scat-chatting burst onto social media sites that linked people in the park. After a 12-hour shift at the Cleveland Clinic, her cell phone buzzed and chirped while she was headed back to the trashy village of mobile dwellings.
“HEY, LOO! WHAT THE HELL R YA DOING, GIRL? U GOT A MAN IN YER CRIB? DOGGONE, HE LOOKS CHINESE OR MALAYSIAN OR SOMETHING FREAKY! WTF? NO COWBOYS WANNA TAKE YA OUT FOR A BEER? ARE YA REALLY THAT LONELY?”
She was used to her redneck environment, so these zingers did not upset her at first. Her own skin and background matched everyone else in the area perfectly. But when horseplay began to rattle around her singlewide longbox, this attitude against foreigners became distressing. She noted that 4x4 rigs were squealing their oversized tires in the street. And rolling coal, leaving clouds of black, diesel exhaust that drifted through her windows. Horns blared with the melody of ‘Dixie.’ And finally, gunshots drew nearer. Though no one threatened her, or her guest, with harm.
Late in the evening, she was relaxing with a bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. Suddenly, a sound of thundering, mechanical clatter shook the thin walls of her home. A pair of accessory-laden, custom motorcycles rolled onto the driveway apron, by her front yard. And a pair of brothers called out for her attention. Both shook their gloved fists in the air.
Dante and Dominic Klatka shared lots that were side-by-side, at the back end of her street. The siblings had moved to Ohio from the Pittsburgh area, following relatives from a past generation. Their shacks had been expanded and remodeled over time. A woodworking miracle that made each living space look like an outpost from frontier days. They were known to display signs and banners with various forms of extreme prose, and imagery. Yet neither had been so bold inside the confines of their development, until now.
“LOO, WHAT THE HELL? YINZ GOT A GUY IN THAT TRAILER? HE LOOKS LIKE SOMETHING OUT OF A CHARLIE CHAN MOVIE, GAWDAMM! IS THAT A FETISH OR SOMETHING?”
The young nurse patted a derringer that was secured in her pants pocket. She went out to confront the rowdy pair while still holding her beverage. The wind toyed with her curly mop of straw-hued hair, as this march brought her face-to-face with the brothers. She still wore a scrubs top from her workplace, dotted with cartoon renderings of medical tools.
“Look boys, what I’ve got behind this door is none of yer damn business. Y’all need to hike on out of here, okay? Turn those scooters around and say goodbye!”
Dante was slightly taller, and more sturdy in his build. But carried the strong features and chiseled jaw of his bloodline. He had a shaved head and a black goatee. Jailhouse tattoos covered his skull.
He laughed out loud at the candid response.
“DAMNNNNN! YINZ SURE KNOW HOW TO STIR UP THE POOP THERE, GIRLIE! NOW I DON’T CARE ABOUT YER BEDROOM SCENE, THAT’S ALL GOOD, BUT IF BEING LONELY WAS THE PROBLEM, WHY NOT GIVE A LOCAL BRO A TRY? WHY NOT JUST WALK UP THE STREET TO MY STEELERS DEN, THERE’S PLENTY OF COLD, IRON CITY BEER AND MUSIC! WHY WASTE THAT FINE, LITTLE COOCH ON SOME BORDER-JUMPER FROM GOD KNOWS WHERE?”
Dominic echoed the sentiment of his twin. He had chrome rings on every finger, with various designs that related to incarceration, and outlaw culture.
“HE’S TALKING TRUTH THERE, LITTLE BITCH! YOU WANT TO CATCH SOMETHING FROM THAT BUG-EYED DRIFTER? EFF THAT SHIT! WE’LL BE GLAD TO GIVE YINZ A HOOKUP! BELIEVE ME, IT’LL BE SOMETHING TO BEG FOR, AGAIN AND AGAIN!”
The stealthy duo had been moving closer, step by step, as their conversation ensued. But Lulu reacted to this incursion on her property with a stealthy sleight-of-hand. She pointed the small firearm with determination, and ordered the men to halt their advance.
“That’s enough, y’all! Back on up, I’m not feeling like either one of ya belong on my porch!”
Dante snorted a guffaw of disbelief. He slapped his sides and kicked the concrete.
“THAT’S ALL YINZ GOT? ONE PIDDLY LITTLE SHOOTER? HELL, THAT’D BE LIKE GETTING A BEE STING! C’MON NOW, QUIT FOOLING AROUND AND GIVE ME A DAMN KISS!”
His scrawnier brother batted the derringer away easily. It took only a careless flip of his greasy paw. The weapon fell in a thatch of crabgrass, by the front steps.
“I’M GETTING EXCITED NOW, YINZ ARE A WILD FILLY! I LIKE THAT SHIT! WILD IS GOOD, I FIGURE! BRING IT ON, HONEY!”
Lulu knew how to fight from wrestling with her older cousins, who also grew up in Thompson Township. Yet she was no match for the Klatka clan. They pinned her against a railing by the steps, and took turns smacking her posterior and pulling her messy mane. This game made both men aroused and sweaty. Before long, their target had run out of energy to fight. She weakened and fell limp and exhausted, on the deck.
From inside, a violent rage of furniture crashing resounded. Anakoni Aka had dozed off on the couch, after several rounds of Bud Light and Tito’s Handmade Vodka. But unexpected pleas for mercy by his new friend cut through the lingering brain fog. He stammered and stumbled out of the doorway, barefoot and red-faced.
“What the hell, brah? This is kapu, right? You don’t mess with people on their own turf, that’s a no-no. You don’t know the rules? How’d that happen? Say a hui hou, goodbye! Good freaking bye!”
Dante grabbed his arm in a move to topple him like a tree. Yet the muscular, island exile turned his grasp into a leverage point. He bent the limb backwards, until his attacker howled in pain. The stocky, former inmate ended up tipping over the railing, and fell into a side yard by the storage barn, next door.
Dominic fumbled for a pistol in his blue jeans. But a karate kick set him on his rump, in a corner of the porch. The Hawaiian guest had little interest in being victimized. Especially so many miles from his native soil. He manifested skills of martial arts learned during childhood days. Timbers began to fly as he chopped and stomped and pummeled the brothers, viciously. Then stood over their crumpled bodies, and savored his superiority.
“Okay, that’s enough of a workout. Time to say aloha, jalike? Get out of here before I catch my second wind! Opala got taken out already! This is trash day, for sure!”
The pair of Keystone-State rebels crawled to their two-wheelers while groaning and licking their wounds. They had endured enough punishment.
Lulu was still disoriented. Yet her gratitude gushed freely.
“I owe y’all dammit! That’s the worst those boys have ever acted. So, let me make it up to ya, I’ve got a few bucks put away. We’ll get a plane ticket and I’ll play taxi driver. Cleveland-Hopkins International Airport ain’t that far from here. I’m obliged for the favor...”
Anakoni nodded and smiled. He made the shaka hand gesture, that represented a friendly sentiment, to ‘hang loose.’
“No offense girl, but I’m ready! Time to hele, I’m juiced to get in the sky!”
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