c. 2026 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(6-26)
T. C. Lincoln paid little attention to anyone else at Evergreen Estates. He had been in the isolated village of mobile homes for so long that his immediate environment was now completely invisible. He followed a life routine centered on waking at sunrise, having coffee at his desk while working throughout the morning, and then pursuing the fine art of drunkenness, once the noon hour had arrived. From that point, inebriation clouded his perception of everything that followed. He would sometimes dive deeply into the liquor, so far that oblivion became his only target. Or, when merely tipsy and more aware, he might engage in brief conversations with neighbors who passed by on foot. Occasionally, trips to his refrigerator and cupboards yielded snacks to satisfy cravings aroused by the wash of alcohol. Every episode ended at a similar place, however. Whether outside on his wooden bench, on the floor of his living room, or even in bed, he would pass out for the night and snore until all of the booze had exited his bloodstream.
But on a quiet Sunday, he noted that the ratty, Japanese sedan of Linn Speck was missing from its normal place on the corner. While not necessarily a sign of any calamity within the household, there was an air of mystery involved. Because it had also been absent, the day before. And even prior to that, during the week. As if it had broken down and been towed away, or perhaps driven to some distant location where the vehicle still remained.
Feeling curious, the old contrarian took out his cellular device from a hoodie pocket. He visited groups on social media platforms that connected residents of the park for informational purposes, and saw a post advertising a singlewide hovel for sale. The architecture and faded, brown hue were strangely familiar. A paragraph of text, included below this image, explained the connection in more detail.
“For sale, a 1976 Schult with the bay window up front. Great location, on a lot with a big yard and extra space around the corner. A large barn beside the front steps, for lots of storage. Trees and decorative boulders around the perimeter. A steal at $16,000.00 cash! Contact the park manager for more information. Current resident has owned it for a dozen years...”
Lincoln felt his pulse quicken in response.
“Shit, is that the bald dumbass who wanted to be king of this sorry sinkhole?”
A bit of scrolling through sites related to the junkyard oasis revealed that the boxcar abode had been available for about one week. An odd development with no obvious signs of the portly, balding fellow moving out with his wife. Lawn furniture and a kettle grill were still visible, around the exterior. The grass had not grown wild from neglect. There were no signs placed in the windows, for a realtor.
Perhaps the advert had been a desperate plea, following some sort of marital episode? He could not be certain without more facts. Though a natural predisposition to being uninterested in any of his neighbors made this chore difficult. Finally, he reached out to Darby Stronelli, who lived on his eastern flank. The short, butch female was high-strung and always preoccupied with busybody gossip. Therefore, she was most likely to know what happened behind those closed doors.
Reluctantly, Lincoln tapped the Messenger icon on his phone, and sent a brief request for edification.
“Hey Darb, hope you’re good over there. Any idea why Linn would be dumping his shack? I just saw the blurb on our Evergreen E. Residents page...”
A reaction came swiftly. The shrill, spiky-haired femme sent a string of laughing emojis. Then text typed out in all caps.
“HEY BUDDY! I AIN’T HEARD FROM YOU IN A LONG DAMN TIME! AND I HAVEN’T! YOU USED TO COME OVER FOR BEERS AND TO HANG OUT, I MISS THOSE DAYS!”
The reclusive hermit scratched his beard and groaned.
“Right, I get it. Walking is difficult at the moment, my legs are shot. But anyway, do you have a clue about what happened with the Speck fam?”
Darby did not answer right away. But eventually sent a different emoji, one with wide eyes and a look of concern.
“HEY, YOU DIDN’T CATCH THE WAVE ON THAT? THERE WAS A BIG FIGHT I GUESS. WE COULD HEAR IT FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF MY TRAILER. YOU KNOW, THERE’S A SECOND PORCH IN THE BACK. I SIT OUT THERE SOMETIMES WITH A BUD LIGHT. THOSE TWO WERE SCREAMING AT EACH OTHER, I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. THEN SHE TOOK THEIR CAR AND LEFT. AFTER THAT, HE CAME OVER TO PLAY POOL IN MY PARTY BARN AND GRUMBLE ABOUT HIS MARRIAGE. I DIDN’T REALLY WANNA HEAR IT, YOU KNOW. BUT THEN HE BLAMED IT ALL ON YOU! THAT MADE ME PERK UP MY EARS. HE ALWAYS BLAMES EVERYTHING ON YOU!”
Lincoln needed a swig of Kentucky bourbon to steady his mood.
“How would I be responsible for her bugging out of their dwelling? That makes no sense at all, Darb! Not a damn bit of sense!”
The nosey neighbor must have been giggling at her wireless device. More laughing faces appeared on the display screen.
“Linn thought you probably put bad ideas in her head. You know, talked her into going on a cross-country run like Thelma and Louise. But by herself, instead. He thinks you’d like to steal her away, which made me laugh out loud. I know better ‘n that, and I do! How the hell would you steal anyone, when you never leave that trailer? I thought it was freaking funny!”
Her contact next door felt his stomach turning nauseous. He wanted more whiskey to settle his restless innards.
“Linn is a gawdamn fool. I’ve already been divorced twice, that’s enough punishment for me. My ass is still bruised from the last trip to county court...”
Darby reacted with a string of unrelated symbols, punctuated with a fist emoji.
“I GET IT OLD FART, AND I DO! WE’VE BEEN KNOWING EACH OTHER A LONG TIME. BUT YOU KNOW HOW THAT GUY IS, I COULDN’T TALK ANY SENSE INTO HIM. HE’S GOOD COMPANY FOR DRINKING AND PLAYING GAMES THOUGH, ESPECIALLY SINCE YOU WON’T COME OVER NO MORE! I’D RATHER HAVE YOU HERE, TO PLAY DARTS AND LISTEN TO MUSIC!”
The shaggy iconoclast sighed to himself, and put the phone back in his pocket.
“Haki has more sense than I do, at least she got out of here. If I had been that smart, this place would’ve gone up in flames a long time ago, and I could be getting drunk on the beach, somewhere!”
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