c. 2026 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(8-26)
T. C. Lincoln had never been particularly adept in social situations. He chafed at having casual interactions with other residents at Evergreen Estates. The sort of bogus chatter that seemed to interest other inhabitants of his mobile-home oasis was a chore to endure. He preferred to be drunk and alone, with no interference from those who lived along his crumbling street. Yet throughout the long days of summer, people continued to pass by the end of his gravel driveway. Either on foot, pedaling along with bicycles or riding electric scooters, or at the wheel of rusty, ragged vehicles that were all long past their intended span of use. He would snort and wave when confronted, or sometimes pretend not to notice their presence, at all. A fog of alcohol kept him shielded from being pulled into boring and banal conversations. Though sometimes, being exposed was completely unavoidable.
When these rare incidents occurred, he would clutch at his belly, and groan quietly.
Late on a Monday afternoon, he took a seat outside on his front porch, after sorting through postal mail and checking accounts via a desktop computer in the home office. His mouth had already begun to salivate for the taste of southern whiskey, and a cool beverage to serve as a chaser. But he was barely able to get through one round of refreshment before a young woman appeared at the foot of his access ramp. She had the unadorned appearance of a wandering waif, with long, stringy hair in a dirty shade of blonde. Her apparel looked to have been sourced from a thrift store. And she seemed not to know too much about the neighborhood.
“Howdy there bud, I see y’all havin’ a drink by yerself. Don’t it get lonesome sittin’ there with nobody ta talk to?”
The reclusive oldster shook his head, and chortled.
“Ma’am, you must be new around here. Most everyone knows enough to keep their distance from me...”
The plain-faced female smiled with a look of feigned innocence.
“I came here in January, so yes, I am new to tha park!”
Lincoln gestured with his right hand, as if giving a salute.
“In that case, you’ve got my sympathy. I don’t know what made you move to this hole in the ground, but if it was desperation, then brace yourself for that condition to become considerably worse...”
The anonymous woman widened her eyes, and looked around as if she were lost.
“I’ve got to say this is better than tha last place I lived. I was in a shelter run by the City of Painesville. That halfway-house was overcrowded, stinky, and noisy. I couldn’t even pee in private!”
The shaggy hermit grinned with his mouth pulled tight against misaligned, yellow teeth. Then, he punctuated his confession with a foamy belch of Miller Lite.
“I pee off the back of my deck. The trash bin is a blind so nobody gets offended...”
The wandering waif sat on a set of neglected, fiberglass steps that flanked the wooden ramp.
“Anyway, my name is Shondra Leigh. I’ve been told ta stay away from yer trailer, but just now, you really looked like someone who could use a friend!”
The disabled biker coughed high-proof liquor from his throat, and cursed.
“FRIEND? YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING, MA’AM! I DON’T HAVE MANY FRIENDS, AND THE ONES I DO HAVE DON’T LIVE IN A TRASH DUMP LIKE THIS! THE ONLY REASON I’M HERE IS BECAUSE I AM DIVORCED, DISABLED, HUMILIATED, AND FLAT-ASS BROKE! THIS PLACE IS A HUMAN GRAVEYARD, WHERE PEOPLE COME TO NURSE BROKEN HEARTS AND SHATTERED DREAMS. AND BY GOD, THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING RIGHT NOW...”
Inexplicably, Shondra giggled at this harsh assessment of the rural community.
“Y’all sound like a freaky movie character! But I get it, sometimes ya lose yer faith in people. Not me though, I always think there’ll be a brighter side to tha day if ya keep lookin hard enough! That’s why I’m here, ta say hello! I like ta meet new dudes!”
Lincoln wanted to raise his middle finger. But guessed that such a reaction might draw tears from his impulsive visitor. So instead, he simply continued to swig bourbon from his jug.
“I’d offer you a taste of this swill, but you’ve got the look of someone who no longer partakes...”
The quirky femme nodded to affirm this insightful statement.
“Y’all are right, buddy! I’m clean and sober fer nine months, and gonna stay that way. But thanks anyhow. I appreciate the thought.”
The graybeard loner pointed to a vintage singlewide, across the street from his own dwelling.
“Granny Maylene lives over there, she’s precious to everybody in this park. Go knock on her door, she’d be glad to get some company, I bet. If you want to hear some stories about this township, she’s got more than a few...”
Shondra rolled her eyes and grimaced as if she was being kicked to the curb.
“What, are y’all tryin’ ta get rid of me, Mr. Link?”
The weary misanthrope leaned forward, over his knees. He glared with indignation.
“HOW’D YOU KNOW MY NAME, MISS? ARE PEOPLE AROUND HERE FLAPPING THEIR JAWS OR WHAT? IF SO, THEN SCREW THEM!”
The young woman folded her arms, defensively.
“Man, y’all have a reputation in this park apparently. But that don’t scare me a bit. I like ta meet folks who are a little bit different. They make things interesting, ya know?”
Lincoln stomped the floorboards with one of his canes.
“GAWDAMN IT! I’M TIRED OF THESE BASTARDS SLINGING MUD AT ME! I DON’T BOTHER ANYBODY, AND DON’T EXPECT THEM TO BOTHER ME! LET ME GET DRUNK IN PEACE!”
She curled her lip and took a step backwards, as if wanting to make a hasty retreat. Her tiny hands had begun to tremble.
“Geez, there’s no need ta get yerself all riled up, dude! I’ll take yer advice and skedaddle! Have a nice day, buddy! I’ll see ya later!”
After Shondra had departed, the solitary boozer sat staring blankly at his reflection in the storm door. He looked every bit of 65 years old, and more, with scars and age spots dotting his skin. The thought of having company on his porch had rattled his nerves. It put him in a situation that was uncomfortable, and perplexing.
Yet for a moment at least, he had forgotten about his own physical ailments and limitations. The experience cleared his head of worry, and evoked echoes of what it had been like to have companionship throughout the day.
That alone was worth enduring an uneasy moment of kindness. He hoped that, in time, she might come again.
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