Trailer Park Victory Chapter 7: Assignment

 

c. 2024 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(12-24)

 

 

The drive to Evergreen Estates from Cleveland took Libby Raal on a journey measured both in geographical distance, and life experiences. She was more than reluctant to visit the county of her birth. It represented a revisiting of bad memories from her childhood. Touching base with people that had once caused her to feel like an alien. Yet her knowledge of such a place was useful in providing balance as a journalist. Still, she did not need or want to be reminded that there were citizens of the republic who followed the Orange Man with absolute fealty.

 

That fact was inescapable, living anywhere in Ohio.

 

She had no professional credentials for the Queer Conundrum monthly. In her belly bag were business cards from the Plain Dealer, but she hesitated to use them now. Her status with that notable gazette was very much in question. Yet at a place like the rural trailer oasis, it probably did not matter. She would be viewed with some suspicion, regardless of her ability to provide identification.

 

Upon entering the park, she went directly to the main office. It was a cramped, corner installation, next to the maintenance garage. There, she encountered Dana Alvarez, the property manager. Someone with dark hair, deep eyes, and a strong will to represent both her employer and residents of the community.

 

Libby brightened upon seeing that her initial contact was a Latina with a broad smile and gregarious nature.

 

“I’m here on a writing assignment, and want to interview some of your people, if that is permitted. For insight into the local scene, not as a hit piece or anything...”

 

The supervisor on duty wrinkled her nose and winked.

 

“Hit piece? Why would you say that? Dios mio!”

 

The Cleveland scribe sighed gently before answering. She wanted to project a friendly vibe.

 

“I know you’ve had visitors from Cuyahoga County in the past. I’ve seen some of their work. This place has had... quite a reputation!”

 

Dana tilted her head to one side and nodded.

 

“I don’t know about that toro mierda! This has only been my job for a few months. I collect the lot rent, and make sure things keep moving. That’s enough for me!”

 

Ms. Raal wanted to abandon her mission and go running back to Lake Erie. But she persisted in staying focused on the task.

 

“I’ve seen those I-Team reports on WJW Channel 8, it doesn’t sound like things ever quieted down here, until this past summer. I wouldn’t do anything to stir the pot, believe me. But what happened in November... well, that has the urban population confused. I’ll admit to being in that group, myself. So, this is what I’d like to do... get a local take on why we are about to have a second dose of the guy selling NFTs, gold shoes and bibles!”

 

The park manager shrugged and tapped her ink pen on the desktop.

 

“You want an idea of what makes this neighborhood tick? I got no clue, hermana! I didn’t grow up here. I never saw this township before getting an interview with the owner. Well, with somebody who represented her, that is, I don’t really know!”

 

Libby flushed with curiosity. She reached for a notepad in her bag.

 

“She? You mean this park is owned by a woman? That might be an angle for a story, a female entrepreneur in a rural region...”

 

Dana bristled at being quizzed so intently. She lusted for a cigarette.

 

“YOU ASK TOO DAMN MANY QUESTIONS! I DON’T SAY TOO MUCH, THAT KEEPS ME OUT OF TROUBLE!”

 

The wandering reporter laughed at her dismissive attitude.

 

“I get it, that’s a safe way to live. All I need is your permission to knock on a few doors. Can you suggest who might be a good prospect for conversation?”

 

The manager crossed her legs and cradled her head in one hand.

 

“Well, you can talk to anybody I suppose. I’d stay away from Linn Speck on the corner, and Townshend Lincoln at Lot 13. Those two are enemies. Long-time combatientes, you know? Linn has his nose in the air, like he is special. And Link is a drunk. Just don’t piss off anybody, okay? Santa Madre, I don’t need no trouble!”

 

Ms. Raal pretended to agree on this plan. Yet upon leaving the office, she immediately decided to hit both of the forbidden residents, first. It was something she recalled from taking journalism courses as a youngster. To dig where the soil is rich.

 

Haki Speck answered the door when she approached a weathered, brown trailer across from the property headquarters. Her sweatsuit was gray and pink, dotted with designs of the Christian cross. She stood tall and curvy, easily bigger than her husband.

 

“Who are you? A sales rep from Spectrum Cable, or the power company? We don’t need anything, thanks! Try someone else on this street!”

 

The freelancing writer shook her head and apologized.

 

“I’m sorry, may I explain my presence on your doorstep? I’m with... umm... some publications in the city. A newspaper and a magazine, so to speak...”

 

The red-faced housewife immediately grew suspicious.

 

“NEWSPAPER? MAGAZINE? HUH? WHAT’S THE POINT OF COMING TO THIS DUMP IN THE WOODS? DID YOU GET LOST OR SOMETHING? THIS ISN’T THE ROCK HALL OF FAME!”

 

Libby reached into her belly bag for a business card from the Plain Dealer. For now, it would have to do as an introductory gesture.

 

“My work has been printed all over. If you’ve read anything with my byline, you know I strive to be fair and literal. I don’t twist tales or make up quotes...”

 

Haki held the card while raising a pair of reading glasses from its dangling chain.

 

“The Pee Dee? Oh my, we still subscribe to that paper! My husband hates how everything has turned into a website or a cellphone app. Come on inside, we’d be glad to have a chat. Would you like some coffee?”

 

From another room, Linn wrestled with his undersized trousers, and a pair of suspenders. He was rotund and balding. And very sweaty.

 

“Hey who the heck is that out there? If they are selling Girl Scout cookies, buy a few boxes! Otherwise, tell them to turn tail and get out of here!”