Trailer Park Victory Chapter 30: Quiet

 

c. 2025 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(2-25)

 

 

Synchronicity is a familiar concept, with similar things happening together without being directly related. Yet for those in northeastern Ohio, specifically around the safety center in Geauga County, a different rule was in effect as February arrived on the calendar. The Law of Opposites, a principle known by some as nature’s methodology to maintain balance in the universe. Yin and yang, stated more philosophically. So, as a thunderclap of violent conflict stormed at the sheriff’s facility, with cultural and political factions jousting for supremacy, Evergreen Estates fell into a sleepy, slumbering mood of abandonment.

 

Except for Townshend Carr Lincoln, and his neighbor across the street who was in her 80’s and not disposed to traveling without one of her children, great-grandchildren, or great-great-grandchildren, the neighborhood sat empty.

 

The old hobo could hear explosions, sirens, and a choppy flutter of helicopter blades, while he lounged on his inset porch. Though the morning had only just arrived, he was already three or four shots into a bottle of Four Roses bourbon. This made his disposition friendly and calm. A rare occurrence for someone who generally eschewed the presence of any other human being, for days or weeks, or longer.

 

The timeline of social media posts on his cell phone had become frantic, and even desperate. But upon powering off the device, he turned that emotional tide away. Only the warbling of a radio in his kitchen could be heard, vibrating through a wall shared with that space on the other side. Strains of Classic Rock kept him entertained, while drinking. Provided by Eric Clapton, Bob Seger, Pat Benatar, Deep Purple, Blue Cheer, Janis Joplin, Tina Turner and others, tonally filling his ears.

 

He had managed to tune out almost completely, when a news-brief, after the weather forecast, interrupted this restful interlude.

 

“You’ve got the dial set on WFXJ the Fox – Ashtabula! We’re expecting a meteorological roller coaster this week, with temperatures ranging from the teens to the low 50’s, so buckle up, everybody! There will be melting and freezing and lots of everything in between! With another winter blast headed our way, very soon. Someone must’ve pissed off the old gal, Mother Nature, I mean! I think she’s got her bloomers in a bunch!”

 

Lincoln scratched his shaggy, gray thatch of beard. He was comfortable enough to only be wearing his camouflage hoodie, with no gloves or knit beanie. Miller High Life beer and the whiskey kept him lubricated, and numb. But as he reached for one of his disability canes, the midday report continued.

 

His belly started to ache when the disc jockey’s voice turned more serious.

 

“Southeast of Cleveland today, the standoff at a jail outside of Chardon continues. After arresting a member of a local militia group, yesterday, protesters arrived at the facility to make their voices heard. Governor Mark Moerlein ended up calling on the Ohio National Guard to quell the riot that ensued. But with church parishioners, sympathizers, and student activists from Cleveland, along Lake Erie, this apparently got out of hand. Local police departments are providing mutual aid, and national media organizations have started showing up to have a look and offer opinions. This is the biggest disturbance ever recorded in that part of our state. Some observers put the count of participants at over a thousand...”

 

The boozing iconoclast blinked several times before rubbing his face. At his feet, a stray feline that had recently adopted the trailer home as a place to find food and water, rolled on her back and purred loudly. She was pleasantly oblivious to the conflagration happening a few miles in the distance. An attitude that her alcoholic host shared, while steadying his nerves with liquor.

 

Wood smoke lingered on the breeze, from cast-iron stoves that had been burning overnight. Loose sheets of cardboard and newspaper pages blew down the rustic boulevard. Dust and debris settled on the shrinking mounds of snow.

 

Then, the contrarian hermit felt a tightening in his chest. His left arm and hand had lost any sense of feeling. He slurred out a curse that was clumsy and odd, as if his mouth could no longer form intelligible words for anyone to hear.

 

“Whatdafuggg... what da fuggg!”

 

Vertigo toppled him from the wooden bench. This surrender to gravity caused his kitty companion to flee, impulsively. He ended up sprawled on the unpainted floorboards, rolling gently from side to side. His tongue felt swollen. A sharp, sustained headache threatened to split through his skull, like an axe blade.

 

Maylene Jefka, their community matron, stood on her roofed deck as this medical event transpired. She still wore a floral muumuu from her breakfast. An elastic cap held her silver curls in place. Crumbs of a blueberry muffin dotted her colorful garments.

 

“TOWNIE! HELLOOO, NEIGHBOR? CAN YOU HEAR ME? YOO HOO! YOO HOOOOO!”

 

The old misanthrope felt his eyes go crossed. His field of vision disappeared completely. He could barely catch his breath.

 

“Whatdafugggggg! Whatdafugggggg!”

 

A vapor of sulfur fumes filled the three-sided cubicle where he had landed. Suddenly, there was a flash of ether and ectoplasm. A ghastly apparition of Esmeralda Jonovic, the dead militia queen, hovered over his battered body. Her visage rose in the pale hues of a translucent mist. She cast a glare of defiance, while gesturing with her long fingertips.

 

“GAWDAMM, LINK! Y’ALL NEED TO TAKE BETTER CARE OF YERSELF, HONEY! WHEN I LIVED NEXT DOOR, BY GOD, YER MUSCLES AND STATURE SURE GOT MY JUICES FLOWING! I ALWAYS THOUGHT TO MYSELF, ‘THAT’S A MAN RIGHT THERE!’ EVEN IF YA HAD SOME CRAZY-ASS IDEAS ABOUT PEACE ‘N LOVE AND ALL THAT BULLSHIT! I COULD’VE USED SOMEBODY LIKE Y’ALL IN MY PATRIOT ARMY! BUT THAT’S JUST A MEMORY NOW. I’M STUCK IN THE PIT OF HELL WITH SATAN, AND HE’S A GOLD-PLATED, CERTIFIED, BORING MOTHERFUCKER! I’D GIVE ANYTHING TO MOVE BACK HERE, EVEN IF THIS IS A SHITTY PLACE TO SPEND YER DAYS!”

 

Lincoln felt every word she spoke resonate inside of his brain. He had developed a fever. Yet from across their rural avenue, Granny May could see nothing but her dirty friend thrashing around at the top of his access ramp.

 

Esmeralda kissed her romantic crush on the forehead, gently. A tear pooled in her eye.

 

“THIS AIN’T YER TIME, DAMMIT! DO YA GET ME? I DON’T WANT ANYMORE COMPANY IN HADES. HANG ON, DUDE! HANG ON! THAT WITHERED CRONE ACROSS THE ROAD IS GONNA CALL 911, BLESS HER! SHE’LL SAVE YER RAGGED ASS! JUST REMEMBER THAT I CAME HERE TO KEEP YA SAFE! REMEMBER, LINK! REMEMBER!”

 

A bright pulse of intense light shocked the fallen resident awake. He managed to sit upright, against a post under the porch railing. From the park entrance, there was the wild cacophony of an emergency squad approaching. Gravel dispersed as the team slid to a halt by his driveway. Doors opened and members of the crew came running.

 

Maylene pulled the muumuu collar tighter around her neck. She made a sign of the cross, and bowed her head.

 

“Thank you, Lord, amen! Now I know that fellow at Lot 13 will be okay. His life is in your hands, and theirs!”