Trailer Park Noir

Three

Reznick had been in the trailer park for five weeks. During that time, he’d kept to himself. Before that, he’d lived for a while in a smaller, more run-down park on River Valley Drive on the other side of the river, but the place had become so run-down that he couldn’t stand it anymore. He wished he could afford to live in one of the better parks with mostly senior citizens who lived in expensive double-wides. Of course, what he really wanted was to live in a house again. But that was down the line. Way down the line. He had to build up his business again first. He still had some of the money his father had left him, but not much. The rental of his office took big chunks out of it. What he needed more than anything was not a new trailer park or a house, but more business.

After his nap, he got up and dumped the chicken bones in the garbage, then tied the bag off and pulled it out of the can. It was Tuesday night, and the garbage man came early Wednesday morning. He took the bag outside and put it in the big green can, then wheeled the can out to the edge of the narrow paved road that ran through the park.

He heard voices. He slowed down as he returned to his trailer, then stopped and listened. The voices were nearby, but he could see no one, and he could not pinpoint their source, but they were close. Then he looked up.

“Hello, neighbor,” a woman said. She peered down at him from the roof of the trailer next door. She was lying face-down on the roof, leaning on her elbows.

“Hello,” he said.

He’d seen her around, but he’d paid her no attention. They hadn’t spoken. He thought she had a daughter, if he wasn’t mistaken.

She seemed to be smiling down at him, but it was difficult to tell because her face was in shadow. “Have you ever watched the sunset from your roof?”

“No, can’t say that I have,” he said.

“You should try it, it’s really beautiful. We’ve got a great view from up here. You want to come up and join us?”

He almost said, without even thinking about it, no. Then it occurred to him that if he went back inside, he would stare at the television and brood.

“We have ice tea if you’ll bring a glass,” the woman said.

“Are you serious?” Reznick said.

“Yes. There’s a ladder on the other side of the trailer, in front. We have room for one more. I’m Anna, by the way. Anna Dunfy.”

“Marcus Reznick.”

“Well, come on up, Mr. Reznick. The sun’s about to set.”

Reznick scratched the back of his head, then thought, What the hell. He went inside, got a glass. Conan followed him out of the trailer.

“Can I bring my dog up?” he said. “He’s small.”

“Sure,” Anna Dunfy said.

Reznick picked up Conan, then went around to the other side of his neighbor’s trailer to the ladder, which he climbed awkwardly. Once his head and shoulders had risen above the top edge of the trailer, he set Conan on the roof.

“Oh, look at you!”

Reznick was faced by a second woman on the roof, not the one who had spoken to him. Not a woman, really – a girl. And suddenly, he could not move. He stopped climbing, stopped breathing for a little while.

The girl had been lying face-down on a blanket, which was spread over a large foam-rubber egg-carton pad, but when she saw Conan, she quickly got up and turned toward Reznick, sat up and crossed her legs. She sat between Reznick and Anna Dunfy.

Reznick was frozen in place by her. Had she reached out and plunged her hand into his chest and clutched his heart and ripped it out of him, she could not have stunned him more than she did simply by sitting there petting Conan. His heart had completely lost control of itself. It wasn’t simply beating, it was thundering. His insides were tense. He was overwhelmed by a bone-deep hunger, a need so great that he set the glass on the roof before he shattered it with his squeezing, white-knuckled hand.

Never in his forty-two years of life – not even in his hormone-addled youth – had he ever wanted a woman so deeply, so desperately, so instantly.

“Oh, he’s so cute!” the girl said.

Her mane of golden hair hung down on both sides of her face as she bent forward to pet the wiggling little dog. Even in the dim light, he could see her face – a beautiful face that glowed the way a pregnant woman’s face glowed. She lifted her head and looked at him and he stopped breathing. Her smiling eyes were so big, he was afraid for a moment that he might fall into them if he climbed any higher on the ladder. Her lips – had there ever been lips more custom-made for kissing? They were plump and her mouth was perhaps just a fraction too long, but it made her kind, sympathetic smile all the bigger and more pleasant. Her mouth was open as she looked at him, and she ran her tongue slowly around her lips. Creamy cleavage rose up out of the red halter top from between her round, heavy breasts. The halter top revealed an expanse of flat, pale belly. Between her legs, small golden hairs curled out around the narrow, raggedy crotch of the very-short cutoffs she wore. Her toenails were painted a delicate red on her bare feet. Her legs were long and slender and shapely.

For a moment, he felt light-headed. He clutched the sides of the ladder with both hands for fear of toppling over backwards.

“You okay, Mr. Reznick?” Anna Dunfy said as she peered around her daughter.

“Yeah, yeah, just… a little, uh… a little dizzy. I’m not, uh, you know, crazy about heights.”

“Oh, well, you’re almost here, just a little bit more.”

Reznick was surprised by how much effort it took to pull his eyes from the girl. It almost hurt to look away from her. He climbed up onto the roof as the girl stretched out on her belly again on the blanket between Reznick and Anna.

“Just lie down on the blanket, Mr. Reznick,” Anna said.

“Call me Marc,” he said.

“And you call me Anna.”

“And you can call me Kendra,” the girl said as she smiled at him.

He tried to speak, to say hi to the girl, but nothing but breath came out the first couple times. “Hi, Kendra.”

“I’m her daughter,” she said. She was chewing gum. He could smell it – it smelled of grape flavoring.

Reznick smelled something else, too – just a whiff of it, a slight hint. Something… disturbing.

“Ni-nice to meet you, Kendra,” he said, barely getting it out. He looked at the gentle slope of her back, the rise of her ass in the small patch of blue denim, the dimples on the backs of her knees.

“Just stretch out beside Kendra, there,” Anna said. “There’s room.”

“Here,” Kendra said, “I’ll pour you some tea.” She picked up the pitcher of ice tea in front of her. The ice cubes in it clattered and clinked as she poured some into his glass.

“Thank you,” he said, and it came out as a whisper.

“What’s your doggy’s name?” Kendra said.

“Conan.”

“He’s so cute! Oh, Conan, you’re so cute, you know that?”

Conan wagged his butt and lapped up the attention and affection.

“You haven’t been here long, have you, Marc?” Anna said.

“About a month.”

“I guess I haven’t been very neighborly,” she said. “I should’ve come over and introduced myself, or something.”

“Don’t feel bad,” he said. “I’m not very neighborly myself. I guess I’m kind of… a hermit.”

“Being neighborly is a lost art, I think,” Anna said.

Reznick nodded. “Part of another time.”

If he tipped his head forward, he could see Anna’s face beyond Kendra’s. He could see where Kendra got her good looks. Anna was lovely, and quite young. She had long auburn hair and big catlike eyes. She and Kendra shared full lips and a delicately upturned nose. She looked almost young enough to pass for Kendra’s sister.

“What kind of work do you do, Marc?”

“I’m a private investigator.”

Anna’s face broke open in a broad smile. “No kidding? A real private investigator?”

“What’s a private investigator?” Kendra said. She had not stopped looking at him since he’d stretched out beside her. She kept petting Conan, but she looked at Reznick. He felt naked under her gaze, and unable to return it. He felt if he did, if he met her eyes and looked in them for very long, he would burst into flames.

“You know,” he said, looking at his ice tea, “a private detective?”

Kendra said nothing for a moment, and he stole a look at her. She frowned – two little creases appeared between her gracefully curved eyebrows – and cocked her head. It was a childlike gesture – a childlike gesture above the swell of a woman’s cleavage coming up out of that halter top.

“Is it interesting?” Kendra said.

“Well, yes, I suppose it is. It’s not boring, anyway.”

“Do you make lots of money doing it?”

“Kendra, that’s not very polite,” Anna said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, as if she truly had no idea it wasn’t a polite thing to ask.

Reznick frowned a moment. There was something different about Kendra, something odd. He couldn’t put his finger on it yet.

“I’ll put it this way,” he said. “I’m not getting rich.”

“Ah, look at the sun,” Anna said.

There was a break in the trees just ahead, and far beyond it was a line of purple mountains in the distance. Just above it stretched some flat clouds that glowed a bright pink as the sun set.

A moment later, the shadows were deeper and the park’s shade became darker. The sun had set, leaving only a golden glow behind the mountains which was already dimming. The pink drained from the clouds, leaving behind a rich deep purple.

“It doesn’t last long, but it’s sure nice while it does,” Anna said. “It’s free and it’s something beautiful. Something to be appreciated, you know?”

Reznick gave Kendra a sidelong look. She was still looking at him. Her mouth was hanging open again, but her eyes were smiling at him. Once again, she ran her tongue around her lips. Had she even looked at the sunset, he wondered?

A breeze blew over them, and that smell returned.

It was stronger this time.

More distinct.

It hit Reznick like a kick to the stomach, then a baseball bat to the forehead. For a moment, he actually thought he was going to be sick.

He turned to Kendra. Her smile grew larger and she tilted her head again. Was she flirting with him? There was something so girlish about her – so little girlish.

But that smell.

It overpowered him. The memories flooded into his mind as if a dam had broken. The pain they brought with them was real and physical.

“What… what’s that perfume you’re wearing?” Reznick said, staring straight ahead.

“Oh, that’s Ice,” Anna said. “You like it?”

“Yes,” he said, but once again, his voice came out in a whisper.

He clumsily got up and said, “I’ve got to go.”

“Yes, so do I,” Anna said. “I’ve got to take Kendra to my sister’s, then go to work.”

Reznick nearly fell off the trailer trying to pick up Conan. He was partway down the ladder when Kendra said, “Your glass!”

“I’ll get it later,” he said, and his voice quavered. He hoped they could not see the tears that were welling in his eyes. “I’ve gotta go. Gotta make a phone call. Forgot all about it.”

The perfume’s fragrance clogged his nostrils. It clung to him, pulled at him.

He carried Conan down the ladder, then went around the trailer and back to his own. He tripped on the steps going in and almost dropped Conan. He put the dog down and staggered over to his recliner. He fell into it and sobbed into his hands as the pain tore through him, the pain of memories he’d tried to bury with alcohol, memories he’d tried desperately to keep away during his year of sobriety. They flooded in now and he gasped like a man drowning. Even here in his living room, the fragrance of Anna’s perfume clung to him, engulfed him, clogged his throat and choked him. It burned his eyes and made his heart ache. He gasped for air but all he sucked in was the smell of that perfume, Ice

Conan stood and stared at him with his little head tilted to one side.