Quote of the day, week, month - or whenever I get around to changing it --

I need to get laid - Vickie Moriarity





Sunday, June 20, 2010

Family Values



Research makes all the difference when writing fiction, I am finding out!  All characters are completely fictional and any similarities to real people are merely coincidence.  This is just the beginning of a piece that is slowly, ever so slowly being written.

Chapter 1

The trailer was an eyesore, a black eye to its neighbors to the left whose newly constructed homes represented family values and upward mobility in a flagging economy, an embarrassment to its neighbors to the right who represented the simple but clean humility of the area’s hard working farming ancestry. The current tenants of the trailer were the next in a succession of pillbillies who had attempted to purchase the land on a contract for deed. Like those before them, these people could sometimes afford the garbage bill, and sometimes they couldn’t.


The original singlewide was augmented with a homemade do-it-yourself addition made of wide slats of siding which shouted to the neighbors “I may be ugly, but I am here to stay!” undoubtedly a much needed bedroom caused by an unforeseen addition of the human kind. The porch, covered in Astroturf, led out to a half acre of overgrown grass and weeds closed off from the rest of the world by an eight foot chain link fence that clearly indicated those inside wished to be left alone. A neon orange lettered “No Trespassing” sign shouted warnings to passersby who didn’t pick up on the subtlety of the chain link fence. Inside that fence, a trampoline and children’s yellow plastic toys dotted the landscape while a German shepherd and a Rottweiler shared guard duty. Children of various ages were frequently tossed outside like the heaps of garbage strewn about the property when the drug deals took place inside.

It was clear this clan wished to be left alone. No God damn nosy neighbors were welcome in this neck o’ the woods. But if you had money and a desire to get high, the trailer seemed to be a popular destination. From the blue collar state worker to the well dressed business man, people of all shapes and sizes could be seen stopping in for just a moment all hours of the day and night. For such a foreboding façade, the family inside sure had a lot of friends from all walks of life.

Behind the fence and the singlewide with its one room addition a quarter acre back stood a shed bigger than the house itself sagging with age and years of neglect. Made of twisted metal reminiscent of the seventies, twisted because wind storms wreaked havoc on it since nothing blocked the fierce winds from the south. The three openings, which could have housed cars at one time, now sagged as if giant dodo birds had once perched there, then flown off in a huff. Inside one stall, however, was one of the tenant’s moste prized possession – a cherry red Ford F-150 that shined like glass and had every accoutrement needed to impress those who saw the owner of the vehicle out on the road. It also funded his source of income and his girlfriend’s addiction.

                                                               ******

Mona had never really been a good mother. Her son hadn’t lived with her in two years. She had lost him to foster care when she was sixteen, partly due to her age, partly to the environment she herself had been raised in, and partly due to her own awareness that if she didn’t give him up, he would be the next victim in a long line of dysfunctional family members. Looking back, the state’s intervention had been a blessing, but the loss had also created an ache so profound that she quelled it with a pill every now and then – a little Oxycodone seemed to dull the sharp stabs of pain the memories of her son evoked in her gut. The memories of her childhood also seemed less acute, easier to deal with.

Besides, she now had Lizzy to care for. Maybe this would be the one she could keep. Lizzy’s curly mop top glistened in the sun when she peeked at her little girl through the hole in the blinds inside the trailer. Her boyfriend Mike, a young man of twenty was off to make a little cash so that she and Lizzie could be happy. He was a sweet boy who had dreamed of playing basketball for UK – maybe even getting a scholarship, but that dream had been torn from him when several ligaments in his knees had been torn in the high school basketball championship. He would walk just fine, but college team material he wasn’t.

Mona, Mike, and Lizzie were staying with Mike’s mom, dad, aunt, and nephew. His parents, recent transplants from Florida, had recently bought this property. She helped with the mortgage by selling off pills Mike brought back from Florida. She never her own stash, however, because she never knew when the demons from her past would try to drag her back. Her memories were too vivid and the vacation that oxycodone gave her from them was just too tempting.

Mona’s life prior to this had been a living hell. Now it was more of a purgatory. She had a roof over her head, food, and a place to raise the girl. While many would have found the environment unbearable, Mona found it comfortable, certainly more luxurious that her life with her parents had been. Lizzie smiled and laughed a lot – more than Mona remembered she ever had as a child.

                                                              ******

Merging onto I-64 from exit 110, Mike thought about the trip he was about to take. He hated it. Everything inside of him knew this would eventually lead to trouble. But someone had to pay the bills and it sure wasn’t going to be his lazy ass dad, his mother’s disability check, or his girlfriend’s body. That is what he had rescued her from in the first place, and he would be damned if he would allow the mother of his child to return to the world where she had gotten hooked on drugs in the first place. No. This was a necessary trip. With the manufacturing plants closing down all around the area, assembly line jobs, which had once been Mike’s way to contribute, were now gone. KDMK was laying people off weekly; Nestle only offered part time work to it beginning employees, and the plant that made uniforms in Owingsville was shutting down in a month. Nobody was hiring unless you wanted to drive a semi across the country. With the DUI’s Mike had racked up after he had ruined his basketball scholarship, he knew applying for those jobs would be useless. Well, if he couldn’t earn money driving a truck, then at least he could earn some money this way. You didn't need a CDL to cart pills across state lines.  His little girl was going to have more of a life then he did growing up.

Of course, he worried about leaving his daughter behind. Mona liked the pills just a little too much, which is why he had chosen to stay with his parents. While neither one was what you would called motivated, he knew they would watch out for their first grandchild, and they had a huge fenced in yard with two huge canine protectors where she could play. His aunt, who drew a disability check, was also willing to help out and keep an eye on Lizzie. His parents knew he didn’t earn money legitimately, but they turned a blind eye to his routine trips to Florida. They just conveniently figured that he was visiting family friends in Fort Lauderdale. He always helped pay for food and the garbage bill when he could. Besides he was family and family stuck together. That’s why they had come down here in the first place. Family always took care of you when you were from Kentucky.

Mike hit the accelerator as he fell in behind a Ford Taurus. Easing his seat back a bit he prepared for his 16 hour trip. He began flipping through the radio stations and caught the tail end of a newscast. Operation Pill Crusher was continuing. Four more people had been arrested. Mike nervously changed the station and glanced in the rear view mirror. Ever since the local sheriffs had united, this trip was getting riskier. But what else could he do? The money paid for basic necessities; the pills helped Mona cope with her past and the loss of their first child. Mike had known they were going to take Billy away. Mona hadn’t had family that was worth anything. Her father had sexually exploited her since she had been a baby, so Mona knew little else as she grew up. Mona’s mother had always looked the other way ignoring the fact that her little girl seemed so withdrawn from the family. As Mona grew up, she had rebelled like most others who were molested did. They did what they knew…had sex, and lots of it. They confused sex with love, and how she needed to be loved.

Mike had found her at a strip club; he had been on a binge of his own – feeling sorry for himself, and he and his buddies had walked into Solid Platinum ready for another beer and some female attention. He never planned on finding her there. But there she was, suggestively kneeling in front of him. It wasn’t her body that drew him to her, although it was perfect. It was her eyes. They were the eyes of a woman much older, who knew more than a girl who was just seventeen should know. They were naïve yet guarded, ready to accept whatever came but never willing to give in. Eyes that had been trained to look past the man, look past the present, and find a place that was shielded from the rest of the world.

He fell in love in that single moment. He stared at her as she stared through him and knew his life would be spent taking care of her.

1 comment:

  1. So thats how its done! I really enjoyed reading this now I want more.

    I noticed this:
    She never her own stash, however, because......

    Namaste

    ReplyDelete

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