Space 13
3
Jerry glanced in the mirror and checked his trailer again, and yes there it was, following like an obedient puppy. He relaxed a bit in his seat as he crossed the bridge and smelled the smell of rot and sewer that engulfed the road.
He looked side to side as he came through the trees and the desolation and emptiness made him feel lonely. He saw an old house on the left and a truck in the yard and he remembered the movie Jeepers Creepers and half expected the monster to come ripping out of the sky after him.
Jerry slowed down and looked at the numbers on the streets and as he saw the layout of the land he wondered if he really wanted to deal with this place. Then he saw Rosedale street and he saw the park. Oh yes………the park.
Jerry pulled into the park and he felt like what he was more than he ever had before, a failed musician and film maker who was going down, way down. Normally the seat next to him would have had a woman in it with a facial resemblance to a cat, but since she had not gotten the rich rock star she wanted nor the big movie star who elevated her to trophy wife status, she had lost interest in him and he had gone home from work one day to find an empty house, no kids, and no idea where she had gone.
She had taken the money in the bank and deserted him and after several days of realizing it was done, he had picked up his gun and thought about ending it, then he realized, if he had been talking to someone else, he would have told them they were crazy.
For years after Jerry married her, she had complained at him from the couch, spending hours watching television while her dogs messed up the house, and he had been wife, husband, house keeper and ATM all in one.
It had been livable till they had kids and she had been sweet mommy while he was the monster dad.
Fifteen years of misery before he had finally made some money with a song that made headway, followed by another, and when it seemed there was hope, she ran off and took it with her.
Jerry stopped looking for her, let the house go to the bank and got the trailer he was pulling and in no time he was thrilled with his little piece of the world.
Jerry had checked to see if any of his relatives had had any money he could find and instead he had found that his mother’s name was on an old house in Mannington, co-owned with someone and the legalities meant the place was technically his, so he decided to go and see what it was he had.
You know, it was horrible. She got all that money, he thought, vanished with it, and because the law felt sorry for poor little wifey, he had been left empty handed, and those songs were damn good songs. He was proud of them and he knew he could do it again……..but not there.
Jerry pulled into the park and regarded the place with disdain then got out and went toward the door of the office. Something was sitting in a chair eating, or was it destroying, a submarine sandwich and as Jerry walked in the being said “hep yuh?” Assuming that was “may I help you” in it’s native language, Jerry took out his rent. “I reserved a space.”
“Oh yeah, Jerry Strobe, the musician who wrote The Unfortunate Man.”
Jerry paused. “Jerry Stroh, and the song is Fortunate Son by Creedence and if I wrote it, I’m aging oh so well.”
“M. Space thirteen next to the vampire chick.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, sorry man, we got a chick in here must think she’s a vampire. She wears alotta black, Goth stuff, listens to this fucked up funeral music, and has roses tattooed on her left leg and both feet. She don’t do nothin’ to nobody, but you know this dumb broad has an Annabelle doll?”
“Ok, so?” Jerry replied.
“Naw seriously man, she hangs out in grave yards and wears these ball gowns and shit, ankle ribbons, weird shit. Toppa that she looks like a fuckin’ dude in the face.”
Jerry stared for a moment, then said “space thirteen. Gotcha.”
“Yeah man, no loud music, pick up yer trash and no having sex on any porches.”
Jerry halted in his tracks. “WHAT?”
“Yeah man, just sayin’ it cuz we had this one dude that rented a mobile home and he humped this one broad, buck assed naked on the porch cause I guess it turned em on fer people to see her tits or something. I mean, when you saw how small his…….”
“OKAYYYYYY, thirteen, yes, I’m on my way, no worries over the vampire chick.”
Jerry walked wide eyed out of the office. Sex on porches and vampire chicks….yeah!
Jerry expertly moved his trailer into the space, hitched it up to electricity and water, and when he had gone in and began to set it up he saw her.
High heels, string of roses on her left leg, fancy skirt, lots of leg showing, ruffles, huge flared sleeves and her hair tinted red over large cat eye glasses, tottering along the walkway with a bouncy don’t-give-a-shit-about-the-world step. She was trotting toward what had to be a toy or the world’s smallest car, a little red thing with furry critters glued to the dash.
She opened the door, then the hounds came out.
Jerry watched two things in ball caps who were Harold and Derrol come bounding out of their mobile home like field rats and begin mocking her.
“Hey Harold, don’t the vampires have to stay out of sunlight? That chick is walkin’ around in daylight!”
“I’m still tryin to figger out if it’s male or female. Hey sweet thang, hike up that skirt a sec.”
“Don’t make it expose itself, it might be embarrassed!”
She turned to them and said “I guess you two inbreeds would know what a small dick looks like, since both of you are and have them.”
The boys laughed and Jerry came out of his trailer and eased toward them. They stopped mocking and regarded him.
“What we got here?” Derrol asked in amusement. “You git to live next to the vampire broad.”
Jerry nodded. “I’m fine with it. At least I know she had human parents.”
The boys began to laugh out loud. Harold sneered. “Trailer jockey thinks he’s funny. You like to fuck broads that look like dudes?” He asked.
Jerry shrugged. “Well your mom must have. You’re so damned ugly you could make a freight train take a dirt road. Was that your mom or dad, or should I say uncle and aunt, or…”
Harold got mad. “Shut yer fuckin’ mouth, mutherfucker…”
He stepped toward Jerry, who drew his pistol and clicked back the hammer. Both of the boys stopped. Jerrold’s tone became hostile and hissing. “I’ve lost my family and every fucking damned thing I hold dear and I don’t give a damn if I live or die, I ain’t got shit to lose, so you bullying little inbred, back road, hillbilly, trailer trash, sheep fucking sons of bitches GO AHEAD AND PUSH IT!!”
There was a pause and the girl came over and gently pushed the gun down and told Harold and Derrol “Go look at some gay midget porn.”
After a second they both began laughing and flipped them off, returning to their mobile home.
“I’m Genny.” She said gently.
“I’m Jerry. I hate bullies.”
“Oh don’t mind them, I carry a gun too and they are afraid I’ll cast a spell on them.”
“So you’re the evil vampire chick I heard about.”
“Yeah, I study voodoo and Wicca at night.”
“Really?”
Genny laughed. “No. I actually hate that stuff. You know how people are, one look and they think they know your whole life story.”
“Oh yeah.”
“So did you commit a crime to get sent here or just run out of luck?” Genny asked.
Jerry sighed. “My bitch of an ex took what I made as a musician and vanished with the kids and I came out here on a spur of the moment hunch to see about an old house that is rumored to be mine.”
“Something nice and old and creepy? Weirdos like me love those.”
Jerry shrugged. “I was about six the last time I saw it so I don’t remember much. I don’t know. Given the run down quality of this town it probably is.”
Genny smiled. “I have to do some business, but if you see my little house slipper in the yard, come on by.”
She gestured to her car and Jerry laughed. “Is that a real car? It looks like a toy.”
“Well it has no back seat so you can’t have sex in it.”
Jerry laughed and Genny got into her tiny car and left with a wave.
Jerry got into his car and drove toward the front of the park and saw a man staring at him so he stopped. “Somethin on your mind, man?”
The man approached and Jerry noticed the mail box and the name Byche.
“We don’t take kindly to your kind bringing guns around.”
Jerry felt a burn of anger. He opened his door and got out and he stood face to face with Major Byche.
“First off mister, my kind is the same as your kind, and my warding a hillbilly bully off a woman by scaring his ass is none of your business. I didn’t see you doing anything.”
“I don’t protect witches and demon lovers.”
“How do you know she is? You spy on her at night, or can you not afford porn?”
“You can see what she is and what you are by looking at you.”
Jerry smiled. “Well Mister Bitch, you’re named appropriately.”
Major hissed and walked away. “It’s By-sh!”
“OH!” Jerry mocked. “Bye bye, By-sh.!
Impressed with the high quality of the neighborhood, Jerry went down town to talk to the officialdom in charge of his house and found a short man who must have been the end product of evolving mice in an office.
“Yes, the old house, well there have been efforts to foreclose, but they are being stymied by a lien which, as Shirley Olwitch’s son you could be responsible for, but if you want the house, you can acquire it.”
“Liens?”
Mouse man looked through his huge glasses and for a moment Jerry thought he should offer him a cheese chip.
“A contractor took out a lien on the place in view of a loan that was paid back a long time ago.”
Jerry’s heart sank. If he found the house and wanted it he couldn’t have it. “Damn.” He said.
“Well the loan isn’t yours so you can fix that easily.”
“How?”
Mouse man shrugged. “The papers say the loan was paid. Quickest way, send the guy an official letter saying you need him to pay for repairs you are doing to the house since he has a lien on it, make the bill absurdly large and he’ll throw your paper away. Thirty days later, no response, house is yours.”
Jerry smiled. Some mice could be really cool.
The letter was prepared and sent that day. The office was closed by then so Jerry went home to eat and relax. Tomorrow he was going to try and secure a job. He had been told about the plant down the street and when he called them the office girl said “oh hell yeah, we got a turnover rate faster than a wheel on a race car. You come down here, they will work your ass off.”
That would buy him time to think and act, he figured.
Jerry was relaxing and saw Harold and Derrol outside, drunk, doing something with two skanky country girls. Genny was quietly in her RV and he didn’t want to bother her so he turned on the television. For a moment he felt a wave of sadness and tears as he thought of his family, then he began to think of all the things she had done to him before she left and in minutes he was glad she was gone as anger welled up inside of him.
Jerry fell asleep and the moon looked down on Mannington as the trees swayed in the breeze.
When the moon faded away and the morning began, Jerry drove to the factory and went in to get an application. Unseen by him was Pastor Ed, who lumbered across the parking lot and got into his big white Dodge Ram bought with church funds. He drove to the court house and presented his contract with Vickie Timms and smiled as he asked about foreclosure.
The clerk gave him the paperwork and he lumbered back out to fill it out. As he did, he got Eric Oberman on the phone.
“Hey Eric, you still want that property that old Timms broad is on?”
“Hell yeah!” Oberman replied.
Ed smiled. “Well, it seems she was late on her payments so I have no choice but to foreclose.”
Oberman laughed evilly. “Lemme know when yer done and we can git goin’ on the shit!”
Ed smiled. “I’m filing eviction and foreclosure papers now.”
Ed chuckled. He could almost smell that money. Doubling out of his truck he pleasantly handed the papers to the clerk and she shook her head.
“You have to address a lien on the property before you can own it.” She said.
Ed paused. “Lien? I already had the sheriff tell her to get out?”
“It’s for a loan that was paid off. You just have to get the holder to sign off and release it.”
Ed breathed a sigh of relief. He could still get the old bag out of there. Ed rumbled like an Abrams tank out of the building and headed to see Eric Oberman who was sitting in his office surrounded by pictures of himself.
“Well Ed, come to preach?”
“Nope, came to hire. Your two little shits Harold and Derrol available to make some money?”
“Always.”
“I want them to take that old lady Timms out of that house and take her to the retirement home my church sponsors, get her out of there right away so we can get started on that house. I filed the foreclosure papers today and Clyde told her to get out yesterday.”
“I can’t do shit till you have a clear deed.”
“Money wise, but I want that old bastard out of there. She’s just an old lady 98 years old. Whats she gonna do?”
“So how you figgerin’ on doin’ it?”
“I’m going to send a van from the home, they pick her up and pack her down there and it don’t matter what she says because in the eyes of the law she’s a crazy old bat. Clyde ain’t gonna do nothin’.”
“Ok, I’ll get em on it but I worked em today.”
“That’s fine.”
Ed got up to leave and saw the boys in the construction yard. They grinned when they saw him because they had an idea it was good news.
“Hey dude! ‘S’up?” Derrol asked.”
Ed grinned. “You get to go grab a female and take her with you!”
Harold laughed as he slammed a tool closet shut and locked it. “T’swhat I’m talkin’ about!”
Ed was laughing. “Yep, you get to throw her in a van and take her someplace, and she ain’t gonna wanna go!”
Harold and Derrol howled and Eric Oberman came out and shook his head. “Shit, you damned animals.”
Ed laughed. “She’s ninety eight years old.”
“Awe fuuuuuuuck.” Derrol cursed. Ed laughed and looked at Eric.
“Good thing you ain’t paid them two boy bitches yet.”
Ed got into his truck and drove away.