Trailer Park Noir (7 page)

Trailer Park Girls would be a website featuring only women who lived in trailer parks from all over the country. He’d purchased a mobile home and an SUV that could pull it, and his plan was to drive around the country and move into trailer parks. He’d stay at each park for a few months – long enough to get to know some of the women there, to get them to pose for him – then he’d move on to another and do it all over again. He’d keep an online log for members and write about the trailer parks he stayed in, the people he met. He’d do video updates from the road in which he appeared with nude women. The whole thing was planned out in his head.

But he’d just started. Actually, he hadn’t started yet. Riverside Mobile Home Park was his first shot at this. His plan was to move east in his tour of trailer parks, but he’d decided to start right there at home. That way, if there were any problems, or if it somehow just didn’t fly, he’d know without having traveled across the country – he’d know right away. He always knew right away if something was going to work or not, he felt it in his gut. Riverside would be his testing ground to see if it worked. For all he knew, there
were
 no attractive women in trailer parks and they all really
did
look like Jerry Springer’s guests.

Heather was not a trailer park girl. At the age of twenty, she would be featured on the Young and Lovely site. He had not yet had a chance to meet any of his fellow residents at Riverside. But he would.

* * * *

With some scotch in her, Heather loosened up, relaxed. She posed with ease on the bed, and she looked great.

“Now, take off your shirt,” Regent said.

“My shirt?” she said. “Couldn’t I take off my skirt?”

“We’ll get to your skirt, but I’d like to start with your top.”

“But I ... I don’t ... my breasts ... “

”Honey, your breasts are just fine. And believe me, the guys who visit my site will want to see them. Trust me. They’ll want to see them, and they’ll
love
them. Really. Whatever
you
may think of your breasts, these guys are going to
adore
them.”

She laughed a little and said, “Really?”

“Yes, really. And where’d you get the idea there’s something wrong with your breasts, anyway?”

“Nate says they’re too small. He wants me to get implants.”

“Well, if your boyfriend hadn’t already given me enough reason to think he’s an asshole, that would clinch it. You hear me? Your boyfriend’s an asshole.”

She laughed again. “Thanks for saying that, but ... well, I love him.”

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, but ... like I said ... “

”You love him, yeah. Well, that sucks, it truly does. Whattaya say you take that top off and we get some great pictures of your gorgeous breasts.”

She took the shirt off and tossed it aside.

“Yeah,
screw
your boyfriend!” he said as he took pictures.

Regent took a few topless pictures, then had her take her skirt off and got some panty shots.

“Now, what-say you take off those panties?” he said.

She hesitated for a long time, then removed her panties. She knelt on the bed facing him.

“What do you want me to do now?”

Regent said, “Get on your hands and knees with your back to me and let’s get some shots of that incredible ass.”

Heather turned and got on hands and knees. Then the sobs started again, quietly though. She tried to fight them back, but could not. When her shoulders quaked, Regent said, “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

She said nothing, just kept crying.

“Oh, well, that’s okay. I’ll just get some more pictures of your ass while you get it out of your system.”

She tried to pull herself together. She reached up and wiped her eyes. She rolled over and said, “Is this gonna show?”

“Yeah, it looks like you’ve been crying. You want to go wash your face?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

“Second door on your left.”

While she was in the bathroom, Regent heard the front door open. Garner had arrived.

“Now we can get down to the fun stuff,” he said to himself with a smile.

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, “
Phil
pott! 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.