Trailer Park Noir

Seven

The night had been a battle so far, a battle not yet won. The Xanax had made Reznick groggy, and he stayed in his recliner and passed in and out of sleep. Each time he woke up, he could smell the perfume. It wasn’t there, of course. It was just the memory of smelling Anna Dunfy’s perfume. It lingered in his mind like a ghost in a castle tower. Each time he woke, there it was, that fresh, cool scent that plunged daggers into his eyes, all the way into his brain, deep into his brain, where the blades triggered just the right synapses and he could hear Victoria’s voice, see her, feel her touch.

It was some kind of barbaric torture, but it was not physical. Tormenting memories sent jolts of electricity down to his stomach and made him feel nauseated. As Letterman started his monologue, Reznick hurried into the bathroom, knelt before the toilet, and vomited his guts up. The NyQuil stung his throat and mouth as it came back up. Afterward, he brushed his teeth, rinsed his mouth out, then drank some more NyQuil, straight out of the bottle. He finished it off and dropped the empty bottle into the waste can.

When he left the bathroom, he swayed dizzily. His chest ached from all the retching. He staggered back to the living room, where Conan was running in circles at the front door.

“You need to go out, kiddo?” Reznick said hoarsely. He opened the screen door and let Conan out.

Reznick went down the steps barefoot, walked out from under the awning and carport, and looked up at the trees overhead. Even at that hour, the night was still warm – the pavement was toasty beneath his bare feet.

He had a little over two hours before his battle would end. At two o’clock, the bars would close and the stores would stop selling liquor, and he’d have nowhere to go to get it. If he could hang on that long. When he wasn’t smelling Victoria’s perfume, he was hearing ice jingle in a glass. All in his head, of course.

As he stood on the edge of the park’s road outside his trailer, a car pulled into the entrance and came his way. All he could see at first were the headlights. Then, as it passed, he got a look at it. A black car, maybe a Crown Victoria, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t tell how many people were in it. It went around the loop behind the Snodgrass house and stopped at unit seventeen across the road. The engine was killed and the lights went out. Whoever was inside the car just sat there and did nothing.

Conan came over and licked Reznick’s foot, startling him. He picked the little dog up and went back inside.

By midnight, Andy had not returned to unit seventeen.

Sherry paced the living room, but did not get too close to the body under the blanket on the floor. “I don’t understand why he’s not back,” she said. “And I don’t understand why his phone isn’t on. Andy always has his phone on, it’s how he works, it’s his life.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have it with him,” Philpott said. He was slumped at one end of the couch.

“Are you kidding? He practically sleeps with that phone. Seriously, he sleeps with it on his night stand, right by his head.”

“You seem pretty uptight. You wanna feel better?” He took her kit from the end table.

“I don’t know. I was thinking maybe I should stay straight, y’know? Until Andy gets back?”

“Nah, you don’t wanna stay straight.”

She laughed. “Okay.” Laughed again. “Boy, I guess I caved on that pretty easily, huh?”

Philpott went to work.

Lissa was gone. She’d called a friend and asked him to come pick her up. To make it easier for him to find her, she’d gone down to the entrance and stood waiting for him there. She’d been gone for about half an hour.

Philpott hurt her with the needle and she winced.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said.

When he was done, he set the kit aside. Sherry started to slump back on the couch, but he stopped her and slid behind her, then let her lean back on him. Philpott put his hands on her shoulders and began to massage them.

“You look like you could use a back rub,” he said.

“Mmm, that feels good. Do that a little harder.” Her speech slurred a little, her eyes closed.

He did, and she seemed to melt against him.

“You like that?” he said.

“Oh, yeah.”

He continued to rub her shoulders.

After awhile, she said, “What time is it?”

“Uh, lessee, it’s about twenty after twelve.”

She clicked her tongue and whispered, “I can’t believe he hasn’t at least called by now. He knows I’ll worry. What if something’s wrong? He said he probably wouldn’t be gone long, and he usually does what he says he’ll do, you know? If he says he’s gonna be somewhere at a certain time, he’s there at that time, y’know? He’s very, uh… what’s the word?”

“Punctual?”

“Yeah, that’s it, he’s that, and he expects everyone else to be, too. That’s why I keep worrying that something’s gone wrong because he’d either come back soon, like he said, or he’d call and let me know he’d be late. He always does that because he knows how I worry.”

Philpott stroked her upper arms, massaged them.

“I don’t even know who to call,” she said. “I don’t have David’s number. He was supposed to meet with David and score some pot tonight. But he said he’d be back soon. He said so.”

Sherry realized that Philpott’s mouth was on her neck and his hands were on her breasts, squeezing them, and she pulled away and stood, facing him as she said, “Philpott! What’re you doing?”

He sat there with his hands held out in space where her breasts had been for a moment, then his arms collapsed at his sides. “Oh, I, um… I… I’m sorry,” he said. His face turned bright red.

“You’re blushing, Philpott,” she said with a smirk.

He tried to smile, but his lips trembled. He bowed his head instead.

She sat down on the couch beside him, turned so she could see his face. “Look, I’m tempted to take you up on it, you wanna know the truth,” Sherry said. “Andy deserves to come home and find me fucking someone. For making me sit up and worry like this, he’s got it coming.”

Philpott lifted his head slowly and said, “Really?”

“But think of what it would do to your friendship with Andy. You guys’ve known each other all your life. You wanna bust up a friendship like that over me? Trust me, Philpott, I’m not that great in bed. For one thing, I don’t give head. I just refuse. I mean, most men won’t go down on women, and I find giving head to be a… well, an unfair thing for that reason. So I won’t do it. You’d be very disappointed in me, Philpott. But thanks for the interest. It makes me feel good.”

In one surprisingly quick and smooth movement, Philpott put his arm across her shoulders, pulled her to him, and kissed her hard.

Sherry started to push him away, but stopped. It was such a sincere and passionate kiss that she didn’t want to interrupt it. It was a very nice kiss, in fact, and after several seconds had passed, she lifted her hand and put it to the side of his face, stroked his cheek with her thumb.

The kiss softened and he put a hand on her neck, stroked her earlobe with his thumb.

When they finally pulled apart, it was Sherry’s turn to bow her head. She stayed that way a moment, then looked at him and smiled. “You’re a great kisser, you know that?”

“Really?”

“Really. I mean… a great kisser.”

He was on her then, his mouth on hers, his hands moving over her body, and for just a moment, she fought him. But the kiss… it was so passionate, so full of life. Finally she pushed him back and said, “Not here. Not with that thing in here.” She glanced at the lump under the blanket on the floor. They stood and she took his hand. “Come on,” she said. She led him through the brightly-lighted kitchen and into the dark bedroom down the hall. She dropped her shorts and slipped off her T-shirt, and she was naked.

“Can we turn the light on?” Philpott whispered.

“Why?”

“Well, I, um… I just thought… “

”What? Why do you want the light on?”

“So… I can see you. I want to look at you, Sherry. I want to see you.”

She laughed a small laugh. “Why do you want to see me?” She was being coy now.

“Because… a girl like you, Sherry… girls like you aren’t with guys like me. I want to see you. So I can remember this.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” She reached over and turned on the bedside lamp.

His eyes widened as they moved slowly down her body, then back up again. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered reverently.

“And you’re still dressed. Get those clothes off.”

She got into bed as he quickly removed his clothes and dropped them on the floor where he stood. Then he got into bed with her.

Sherry wrapped her arms around him and held him to her. “How long have you wanted to be with me?” she whispered.

“Ever since I met you,” he replied.

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

They kissed as their hands explored.

Sherry started kicking her legs. “It’s too hot for blankets,” she said as she tried to kick them off.

Philpott pulled away from her and sat up. He swept the covers back to the foot of the bed, until they were completely uncovered. He turned back to Sherry, but before stretching out over her, he knelt on the bed beside her and just looked at her.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“I’m sorry, I’m… staring at you.” He chuckled.

“Staring at me?” she said.

“Yeah. I’m… drinking you in.”

“Now you’re drinking me?” She laughed even harder and the movement of her breasts made Philpott instantly hard. She reached out and stroked his cock. “Boy, you really get off on this staring stuff, huh?”

Philpott reached down and spread her legs and knelt between them. He was lowering his face to her crotch when someone pounded on the front door.

“Oh, shit!” Sherry hissed. “It’s locked. Doesn’t Andy have a key? Why is he knocking?”

“You think it’s Andy?”

“Who else would it be at this hour?”

“Shit,” he said as he scrambled off the bed and assembled his clothes. They dressed quickly, bumping into each other a few times.

Finally, they were dressed and in the living room. Philpott flopped onto the couch and looked at the television. Sherry went to the door.

Before she could open it, there was more pounding.

“Andy?” she said.

There was no response outside the door.

“Uh, hello?” she said. “Who is it?”

Another long silence followed and she turned to Philpott with a questioning look.

“Don’t open it,” he whispered.

“Who is it?” she said.

Still no response.

“If you don’t answer, I’m calling the police,” she said.

A strong male voice said, “We’re looking for Arnold Garvis.”

Sherry turned to Philpott with wide eyes. Together, they turned to the lump under the blanket on the floor.

“That’s all we want,” the first voice said. “We’ll just take him and go.”

“Who are you?”

Silence, then: “Secret Service.”

Sherry rolled her eyes. “You’re the secret service?”

“Do you know who Arnold is?” the second voice said.

Sherry looked over at the shape under the blanket on the stained floor again. “Well… no.”

“We do. And we’ve come for him. Just let us get him, and we’ll leave you alone.”

Philpott stood and went to Sherry’s side. “Who are you?” he said.

“Someone who can make a hell of a lot of trouble for you in a very short period of time if you don’t cooperate.”

Sherry went to the bar and opened the small drawer behind it. She removed from the drawer a.38 revolver. She turned to Philpott and said, “I’m gonna let ‘em in.” She turned to the door. “I have a gun. The second you do something I don’t like, I start shooting, understand?”

“Yes.”

She unlocked the door and pulled it open. She saw two black figures on the other side of the screen door. She turned on the porch light, but they remained two black figures. They wore black shirts and black pants and shoes and looked like twins. One had blond hair, the other dark. They had very serious, stern, but nondescript faces.

When she pushed the screen door open, they came inside.

They were tall and bland. They turned to Sherry and the blond said, “Where is he?”

The brunette glanced at Sherry’s gun.

“Under that blanket over there,” she said.

They went to the lump on the floor and Blondie pulled back the blanket. They stared down at the corpse.

The dark-haired man turned to Sherry. “What happened?”

She shrugged. “We woke up and found him that way. It looks like an overdose. We don’t even know who he is or what he’s doing here. He came with a friend of a friend early this morning.”

They spent a few more seconds looking down at the corpse, whispered briefly to each other, then turned to her again.

“Mind if we take some of these blankets?” one of them said.

“No, go ahead, take ‘em.”

She and Philpott stood back while the two men wrapped the body up in blankets. One stood at each end and carried the wrapped-up body to the door. One opened the door and they carried the body out of the trailer. The blond man leaned back into the door and said, “We were never here. You never met him. This never happened.”

The screen door slammed shut. Awhile later, an engine started and a vehicle pulled away from the trailer.

Sherry rushed to the door and closed it, saying, “What the hell was that?”

“Who was that guy?” Philpott said.

“I don’t know.” She put the gun back in the drawer, then started pacing the living room again. “Where’s Andy, dammit?”

“Um… care to, uh, pick up where we left off?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, hon, but that kinda blew the mood for me, you know? Mysterious men who come and cart off a dead body? There’s something creepy about that.”

“Yeah. Well… you want me to wait here for Andy with you?”

“Yeah, please don’t leave me here all by myself, Philpott. I don’t want to wait for him alone.”

“Okay, then, we’ll wait together.”

In unit five, Regent smiled.

They were all the same, these women. No matter what they said at first, no matter how opposed they claimed to be to the idea, once that camera was on them, they always ended up playing to it – they loved the attention, the focus on them, just them.

Regent and Garner had spent the last two hours taking turns shooting Heather and fucking her, and she had put on a memorable performance. All that crying and wailing, all that wincing and sobbing – it had been endless, and it had been wonderful, some of the best footage he’d gotten in awhile.

Garner was in the shower. Regent wiped the sticky perspiration from his body with a towel as Heather sat on the edge of the bed, naked. She seemed deflated, empty somehow. She stared at nothing, her mouth open, her eyes a little wider than they should be.

There was a spot of blood on the bed. Regent figured that had probably come from the anal sex. She’d screamed when he’d entered her anus, and her screaming had made him harder.

“You were incredible,” Regent said. “Really. I mean it. My members are going to love you.”

She did not look at him or respond. She stood very slowly, then limped around the room collecting her clothes. She put them on the bed and slowly, clumsily began to dress.

“You want something to drink?” he said.

Still, she said nothing as she put on her panties, then stepped into her skirt and pulled it up her legs, buttoned it, then pulled her shirt over her head. She wobbled as she stepped into her shoes, then bent down to pick up her purse. When she stood up, her back was to him. She stood there, facing the wall, for several long seconds as he watched her.

“You okay?” he said with a smile.

“Where’s my money?” she said, voice cracking.

“Sure, I’ll get your money. No need to rush off, though. Let’s have a drink. I’d like to talk to you about possibly doing this again. I really think you’re going to take off on the site.”

Heather turned around slowly until she stood facing him. Her face looked longer, somehow – as if it had been stretched. She seemed paler than before. Her hair was all over the place and her eyes were puffy. She looked exactly like what she was – a woman who’d just had a whole lot of great sex.

“I want my money now,” she said.

“Oh. All right. Hang on, I’ll be right back.” He went into his bedroom, to a cashbox on his dresser. He got the money and went back into the studio. He held out the money and Heather snatched it from his hand.

She reached around and stuffed the money into her purse. Then she turned and headed for the door.

Regent grabbed her arm and said, “Wait, I thought we could – “

Something broke in her then, and she jerked her arm out of his grasp and turned to him with wide eyes and lips pulled back tight over her teeth, and she screamed at him, “Don’t you touch me!” She started crying then, and it was a powerful cry that moved through her whole body and made her bend over as if she had cramps. Her sobs turned into coughs, and then she began to gag, then heave.

“No,” Regent said, “not on the carpet, not on the – “

She vomited on the carpet.

“Oh, shit,” he said. “You stupid bitch, you just puked on my carpet! I can’t believe you. You – you actually vomited on my carpet!” He looked at her as he pointed at the mess on the floor. “What, is this, is this something you do, you just barf on people’s carpets when you’re in their houses? Huh?”

She stood up straight and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Then she left the studio.

Regent shouted, “You stupid cunt! Get the hell out of here before I make you lick it up!”

She went to the door and opened it, went down the steps.

Regent stood in the doorway and watched her as she got into her car and started the engine. Then he closed the screen door, then the door, locked it.

“Where’d she go?” Garner said as he came up the hall with a towel around his waist. He used another to scrub his hair.

“The stupid bitch vomited on my carpet.”

“Oh, is that what that puddle is back there?”

“Clean it up for me, will ya?” Regent said.

“What? Whoa, that’s not in my job description. I’m strictly a camera man and a spare dick when needed. I’m not cleaning it up.”

Regent sighed. “I’ll have to, then. How disgusting. What a disgusting woman she was.”

“Yeah, but she’s gonna look amazing online,” Garner said.

“I’m gonna clean that shit up in the studio, then let’s go out and grab a beer, huh? We can check out the girls at the Mt. Shasta Gentlemen’s Club, okay? Jeez, how long’s it been since we’ve been out there?”

“A long time. Sounds good to me. Happy vomit-cleaning.”

Kendra could not sleep. She lay on Aunt Rose’s couch with the television on, the volume low. She always slept on the couch when Mommy went out to dance. Well, she usually slept. Mommy had a key to Aunt Rose’s front door, and when she got off work, she came to Aunt Rose’s house and unlocked the door, came inside and woke Kendra and took her home, all without waking up anyone else in the house. But tonight, Kendra simply could not sleep.

All she could think about was Mr. Reznick, their new neighbor. Mr. Reznick was the handsomest man Kendra had ever seen. Up close, anyway. There were some movie and TV stars she thought were handsome, but they weren’t… real. Not like Mr. Reznick, who lived right next door.

Lying on the couch with a funny old monster movie playing on TV, Kendra closed her eyes and saw him again. Thick and wavy brown hair, the kind of hair she would love to run her fingers through, and deep brown eyes she could dive into and swim around in like deep pools. Oh, he was like a dream. And his voice – deep and resonant and manly.

Kendra smiled as she lay there in the dark with the grey light of the television flickering over her.

She couldn’t wait to see him again.

As the men applauded and whooped and hollered, Anna Dunfy collected the clothes she’d shed over three dance numbers, then picked up all the money left for her by admiring customers, and walked backstage.

Dina Noos was getting ready to go on. There were a few other girls back there, too, either getting ready to dance or to waitress, or to go home.

“What’s it like out there?” Dina said. Her stage name was Desiree.

“Not bad,” Anna said. “I’ve seen better, but I’ve seen worse.” She put the money in her purse, locked her purse in her locker, then began to put her costume back on.

Her stage name was Kitten, and she was very popular at the Mt. Shasta Gentlemen’s Club. She had a lot of regulars who came just to see her. The money was better than any job she could get in town. The job market in Redding was in pretty bad shape – she could get plenty of work if she wanted to flip burgers or wait tables part-time, with no benefits, nothing. The only office work she could get was through the temp agency, which was less than part-time. Stripping barely took care of their needs and left nothing for her to save up for her dream – a down payment on a little house for her and Kendra. She could not see that ever happening.

With her costume on, Anna left the big communal dressing room and went out into the nightclub. Between sets, the girls waited tables. Some chose to wait tables topless while others kept their costumes on. Anna wasn’t comfortable walking around topless. Dancing naked on the stage was one thing, but just walking around from table to table with her tits exposed – she couldn’t do it. She knew it meant less in tips, but she couldn’t help it, it was out of her hands.

The bar was in the front of the club, the stage in the rear, and in between were tables, and against the wall some booths. There was a bar along each edge of the runway, too. The club was spacious, with a high ceiling. From outside, the building looked like a ski lodge, with an A-frame and tall windows. But the blackened windows were dark, and written in purple neon in one of them were the words LIVE NUDE GIRLS. It was located halfway between Redding and Mt. Shasta, out in the woods, of all places. But it did a booming business. It helped that it was the only strip club in the area. The next closest was all the way over in Chico.

Anna went behind the bar and got an order pad and pen. She found the manager in the kitchen behind the bar, where they made all the bar food. Paul Wagner was a little balding man with a belly and jowls who always wore a suit.

“Where do you want me, Paul?” she said.

“Take section four,” he said. “Delilah was supposed to take it, but she went home sick. So I’ve got Candy working two sections, and you can take section four.”

“Will do, boss,” she said, then she turned and left the kitchen, went out from the behind the bar, and headed for section four. That included all the customers seated at bars along the sides of the runway and tables to the left of the runway.

There was just another hour before closing time. Anna sighed and went to a table and took her first order.

Her third order came from a handsome man with dark hair seated at the runway. He ordered a scotch and soda, then said, “Could I have a word with you?”

“About what?” Anna said, smiling.

“What’s your name?”

“Kitten.”

“Well, Kitten, my friend and I, here, are photographers. We have some websites and I was wondering if you’d be willing to pose for some pictures for us.”

“Pictures, huh?”

“We’ll pay, of course. Think about it. Here’s my card.” He took his wallet from his back pocket, opened it, and removed a business card, which he scribbled on with a pen before handing it to her.

It read, BURNING LIZARD AMUSEMENTS, and below that was a phone number and a post office box number in Redding. Written on the back was his name and another phone number.

“My name is Steven Regent,” he said. “You are an exceptionally beautiful woman, Kitten. You stand out here, I’m serious. You’re also the finest dancer in the place.”

“Well, thank you, aren’t you sweet. I’ll get your drink for you.”

“You’ll think about it? I think we could work together very well. We pay well.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said, then she turned and headed for the bar.

Photographers. A website. It sounded dubious to Anna. But he said they would pay. And well. She slipped the card into the top of her right stocking. She’d keep it. Just in case.