c. 2025 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(5-25)
With seasonal warming in effect, and the weekend about to begin, Evergreen Estates had reached a peak of motivation that overwhelmed its typical torpor of disaffection and hopelessness. Flowers were budding, green delights of all kinds covered the landscape, and blue skies hung overhead. There was a sense that perhaps, living in such a downtrodden, rural development could yield moments of joy and satisfaction, despite the hardscrabble conditions. Beer foam and cigarette smoke offered comfort amid their tough environment. Around the property line, there were signs posted about yard sales and spring events.
A mood of excitement filled the air, all along Lake Erie, as warmer weather approached.
Dozing on his sofa, Townshend Carr Lincoln yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes for relief. He had managed to consume a first cup of coffee, without feeling much of an effect from that jolt of caffeine. He remained groggy and sour about being awake so early. Yet the stream of sunshine through his kitchen window was too bold and persistent to be denied. The clock on his entertainment center ticked away as if metering time out judiciously, like grains of sand in an hourglass.
While teetering on the edge of consciousness, he heard a rustle of paperwork at the front entrance. And a click of the latch outside, as if some document had been rolled carefully and stuck in the exterior handle of his storm door. Light footsteps barely betrayed the presence of a morning visitor. He half wondered if perhaps, these sounds were simply the work of his post-slumber imagination. But upon struggling to his feet, finding both disability canes, and stumbling across the carpet to his main portal, the true cause was revealed. There, left for his inspection, was an official notice from the park manager, Dana Alvarez. The printed sheet carried a logo on its masthead for an unfamiliar ownership group.
This sign of a completed sale made the weary hermit curse and spit a mouthful of java.
“What, we’ve got another new owner? I can’t keep track of this shit!”
He had to find a pair of reading spectacles to decipher the message. Then, with fatigue tugging at his comprehension, he began to read, line by line.
“Hello, Evergreen Estates! We are pleased to announce that this park has been purchased by a group of investors who partnered through a new government initiative, to streamline businesses and revive our lagging, national economy. The work of DOGE in Washington, the Department of Government Efficiency, has inspired American citizens from all walks of life to do better, and aim for excellence. With that remarkable project of Elon Musk in mind, we are setting forth on a quest to redesign how trailer communities are run across the nation. We believe that operating such properties is something that can offer great potential for everyone involved, if done in a modern context. Our first action is to bring your neighborhood, and approximately 120 others in various states between New York and California, under the control of a central office, where everything will be coordinated without unnecessary duplication. Second, we have set a goal of standardizing our procedures across the board, at every location, so that all residents will be assured of receiving the very best service when needs for contact arise. Management will be done from our corporate offices, rather than on-site, as in the past. Repairs will be handled by local operators, working as private contractors. Inspections will happen on a regular basis, through the use of surveillance cameras, to be installed and monitored by another partner. You, the tenants, are our priority, always! Third, because these changes will require additional funding to execute completely, we are raising the lot rent immediately, by an amount of $75.00 per month. You can be assured that this uptick in cost will pay great dividends for everyone. We thank you for understanding these measures, and for giving us your full cooperation...”
Lincoln stammered with the drooling mouth of a semi-conscious drunk.
“What the hell, seventy-five bucks? I can’t even afford what it costs right now, to live in this shithole!”
It did not take long for a crowd to gather at the park office. Some residents were carrying firearms, baseball bats, shovels, or pieces of scrap lumber. A furious pounding on the door began to echo across the parking lot. But then, the mob realized that no one was present in the manager’s space. A notice on the door indicated where complaints could be lodged, via a telephone number, or a website comment form.
“Dana Alvarez has now been discharged as part of the efficiency program being instituted by VMS Financial, a division of Golden Opportunities, Incorporated. Please be aware that your comments or questions are very important to us, and may be directed to the proper individuals by using one of our convenient methods for contact...”
Stones and debris were hurled at the exterior office wall. Then, gunfire split the door into pieces, and destroyed the lock mechanism. With the entrance breached, residents flooded the confined space with impunity. But inside, there was nothing left. All of the file cabinets, furnishings, and charts had been moved without notice, during the previous week. Not even a wastebasket or a chair remained.
Aimes Hefti, the self-appointed militia commander, spread bullets around the room with his AR-15 rifle. He stomped on the tile floor, and cursed in a fit of citizen outrage.
“GAWDAMM THESE PEOPLE! Y’ALL HAVE BEEN FUCKED OVER, BIG TIME! BIGGGG BIGGGG BIGGGG TIME!”
Linn Speck carried his copy of the Trump Bible as a sign of faith. Yet instead of invoking the name of a higher power, he lowered his gaze and dribbled drool, while mumbling.
“They didn’t even try to negotiate with my residential association? What kind of nonsense is that? I gave them my petition for fixing up this park, it had over a hundred signatures! We were going to force a meeting with the new owners! It was supposed to be people power in action!”
Up the street, Lincoln had reached a point of inebriated bliss on his porch. He watched with amusement as the impromptu rally dispersed, with neighbors and friends staring straight ahead, blindly. Their disbelief and disappointment permeated the morning.
He belched a fog of brew and burritos.
“That’s it, the DOGE chainsaw strikes again! It’s like they always say in this dump, it’s one damn thing after another!”
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