Trailer Trash

by Marie Sexton

  She blew smoke and ashed again, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Her head jerked an inch to the side, indicating no, but only barely.

  “You got arrested?”

  Her lips narrowed. She stared at the ashtray. “I don’t want you to have to know about these things.”

  He understood at last. She wasn’t angry. Or not at him, at any rate. She was humiliated, and still trying to protect him from a truth he’d worked hard to deny. “Mom,” he said, feeling a gentleness now he hadn’t expected, “I’m not a kid anymore.”

  She nodded. “I know.” She wiped angrily at her eye, brushing a tear away before it could materialize. “I was glad I could tell them you were eighteen, that you could take care of yourself. They wanted to send child services, but I told them not to. I told them you were a good kid. That you were used to fending for yourself.”

  He wasn’t sure anybody had ever referred to him as a “good kid” before. “What happened?”

  She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “The car broke down on my way to work. I managed to pay for the tow and the repairs, but just barely. I didn’t have enough gas to get home. We were behind on the bills. And Christmas was coming—” She shook her head again. “I was just trying to earn a little extra cash.”

  Cody closed his eyes, breathing deep, trying to tame his fierce hatred of Warren, Wyoming, and everything that drove his mom to such extremes. “You should have told me. I would have given you money—”

  “You shouldn’t have to give me money.” She wiped her eye again. “You’re my son, and I should be able to at least keep the electricity on. I should be able to—”

  “Stop.” His hands were shaking, and he clenched them between his knees. There was no point is forcing her to justify it. “So what happened?”

  She scrubbed her cigarette out, but didn’t reach for a new one. She seemed to be breathing easier now that they were really talking. “I couldn’t afford bail, so I had to sit.” She chewed her lip. “If it’d been my first offense, he probably would have let me off with time served but—”

  “What? What do you mean it wasn’t your first offense?”

  “I got picked up the first time last year. Remember right before your junior year, when I was gone for a few days?”

  “You told me the car broke down and you were staying with a friend.”

  “I didn’t want you to know the truth.” She squeezed her temples with one hand. “That time, they gave me time served. More a warning than anything. But this time . . . I told them, I was just trying to pay the bills. He could see I wasn’t a junkie, so he took it easy on me.” She shrugged, but the motion was too stiff and forced to be casual. “He only gave me four weeks. They released me this morning, and some of the girls at the truck stop pitched in for gas so I could at least drive home.”

  Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. Rick and A.J. were bickering on TV like they always did. Sometimes they made him laugh, but not tonight. “I wish you hadn’t done that, Mom. I just . . . I wish you wouldn’t, that’s all.”

  “I know. But it’s my job to put food on the table—”

  “No—”

  “And I’m not afraid to do what needs to be done. I’m not proud of it, but I won’t apologize for it, either. Your dad left me here with you and that piece-of-shit Duster, and the only place I can afford to rent is this crappy trailer in the shittiest corner of town. It’s bad enough we have to deal with Ted and Kathy and Pete. The least I can do is make sure we don’t freeze to death in our own beds.”

  Cody went back to holding his hands between his knees. The worst of the shock had worn off, leaving him numb and uncharacteristically tired. “I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know if you were hurt or if you’d just run off—”

  “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  He felt better, hearing her say it. “I paid the electric and water, and the rent. There’s a bill for trash, and one for gas, and the phone bill. They’re all overdue. I get paid again in two days, so I’ll have a bit of money, but with the late fees, it’s not enough—”

  “It never is.” She picked up her cigarettes, but didn’t move to take one out. “The truck stop will take me back, but I lost my shift. The only thing he can give me is graveyards, and only three nights a week.”

  “Only waiting tables though, right?”

  “I promise. I can’t risk anything else so soon after getting out, anyway. But I ain’t even told you the worst part yet.”

  Jesus, what could be worse than getting picked up for prostitution? “What?”

  “I have to pay a fine. Seven hundred dollars. They’re lettin’ me do it in payments, but—”

  “So they know you were only doing it because we don’t have money, and then they expect you to somehow come up with seven hundred dollars? How does that make sense?”

  “It don’t. But that’s how it is.”

  Cody shook his head, thinking. Graveyards meant shitty hours and shitty tips to boot, and with only three nights a week, it’d barely be more than she paid for the gas to drive there and back. And it wasn’t like she could get a job in Warren. “I could quit school—”

  “No.”

  “I’d be able to work full-time at the Tomahawk. Maybe just get my GED—”

  “Don’t even think about it, Cody. We’ll get by, one way or another. But quitting school . . .” She shook her head. “That’s how it starts. That’s how I ended up here. That’s how everybody ends up here. You either drop out or you get knocked up or both.” She leaned forward, meeting his eyes directly for the first time since he’d walked in the door. “I don’t want that for you. I wouldn’t wish that for anybody, but especially not you. We’re not that desperate yet. You hear me?”

  He nodded, glad she’d shot the idea down, but feeling guilty for it. “Okay.” He hesitated, wondering if there was more to say, but his mom had already turned back to the TV. Cody stood up, thinking maybe he could stretch the phone cord to his bedroom to call Nate. Or maybe he’d just fall into bed, secure in the knowledge that his mom was once again just down the hall. He was surprised at how much it meant, knowing she hadn’t intentionally left him. “Mom?”

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you’re home.”

  She smiled, possibly the first genuine smile he’d seen on her face in months. Maybe even years. “Me too.”

  Nate drove home on autopilot as he thought about Cody’s mom.

  He was pretty sure Cyndi hadn’t been around for several weeks at least, but nothing made Cody defensive faster than asking about his mother, so Nate had kept his suspicions to himself. But now, contemplating her return, Nate remembered the things he’d heard about her. The night he’d gone to the bowling alley, Larry had said Cyndi worked as a lizard. Nate still had no idea what the term meant, but it had been the one point Cody had adamantly denied.

  What exactly was a lizard?

  Once home, Nate did the only thing he could think to do—he went to the encyclopedias on the bookshelf and pulled out the L volume. He sat cross-legged on the floor and flipped through the pages. He wasn’t surprised to find that the only entry for “lizard” was the obvious one referring to reptiles.

  “Working on a research paper?” his dad asked from the doorway. He’d just come home and was still wearing his uniform.

  “Do you know what a lizard is?” Nate asked. “I mean, not like actual lizards, but when it’s used to describe a person?”

  His dad crossed his arms, leaning back to look up at the ceiling. Nate recognized the expression on his dad’s face. It was the same one he’d had years earlier when Nate had asked him what a blowjob was after hearing the term at school. It meant his dad knew what the term meant, but he wasn’t sure if it was something he should share with Nate. Finally, he sighed. “A ‘lot lizard’ is what they call the girls who work the truck stops.”

  Nate thought about what he knew about Cyndi. “Like, the waitresses?”

 
; His dad shook his head. “No, not like that.” It was obvious his dad had hoped he wouldn’t have to clarify. He took a deep breath and said, “There are girls who actually work the lot, going truck to truck. They knock on the passenger side door and see if . . . well, if anybody needs some company.”

  Understanding dawned, and Nate sat back, stunned. “You’re talking about hookers?”

  His dad scowled. “Prostitutes.”

  Nate wasn’t sure why the distinction mattered, but either way, it certainly explained Larry’s derision and Cody’s defensiveness.

  “What’s this about?” his dad asked.

  “Nothing, I just—”

  “Are you talking about Cyndi Prudhomme?”

  Nate felt as if the air had been sucked from the room. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He wasn’t sure how to answer, but the fact that his dad, who had access to the criminal histories of Warren residents, immediately associated the term “lizard” with Cody’s mom was telling, in and of itself.

  “Have you been seeing that boy Cody?”

  Now Nate’s heart kicked into high speed. “Wh-what?”

  “I told you back in the fall that I didn’t want you hanging around with that boy, and I meant it.”

  “Dad, Cody’s not a bad kid.”

  “You don’t know the things I know—”

  “Like what?”

  “Like—like— Things, all right? Things you don’t need to hear about.”

  Was he talking about the rumors that Cody was gay? Or was there more to it than that? “Has he ever actually done anything wrong?”

  “His name comes up now and then—”

  “That’s not what I asked. Has he ever been convicted of anything? Has he ever actually gotten into trouble?”

  “That isn’t the point.”

  Nate stood up, letting the encyclopedia fall to the floor. “That is the point. Innocent until proven guilty, right?”

  “He comes from a bad family.”

  “His mom’s a waitress. That’s all.”

  “That’s not all, and his mom’s only half of it. His dad’s in prison—”

  “What? Since when?” Because he was sure Cody would have told him. He may have covered for his mom, but he wouldn’t have lied about his dad.

  “Since October. He went down for vehicular homicide. He was driving drunk up in Worland and killed a woman and her two-year-old daughter.”

  “That isn’t Cody’s fault! Cody hasn’t even talked to his dad in ages, and—”

  “So you have been seeing him.”

  It was more a statement than a question, and Nate froze, his heard pounding. He could tell his dad was furious by the slow tick in his neck and the way he clenched his jaw. Nate considered the words. “So you have been seeing him.” What would his dad think if he knew exactly how much of Cody Nate had seen, or touched, or tasted? The pleasure they shared in Cody’s bed felt like the most natural thing in the world, but his dad certainly wouldn’t see it that way.

  “We’re friends,” he said, his voice shaking. His dad may disapprove, but no matter what happened, Nate wouldn’t turn his back on Cody again. Not even if it meant facing his dad’s anger. “We’re friends, and he’s not a bad kid. I don’t care what his parents have done. Cody isn’t like that. Cody—”

  “Enough!” His dad took a step forward, and Nate backed away on instinct. His dad hadn’t spanked him since he was a boy. He hadn’t raised a hand to him in years, but the threat was clear. “There are plenty of other kids in this town—”

  “Oh, sure. Kids who go out shooting squeakies for fun, or drive through fields trying to run over antelope. Or maybe I should hang out with the kids who go to the dogfights up by Farson. Would that be better? Are those really the types of kids you want me to spend time with?”

  “Those aren’t your only options—”

  “Yes, they are!” He was almost yelling. He knew it was a mistake, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Those are my only options! I can kill things for sport, or I can go out and get laid at the old mine—”

  “Nobody’s supposed to be up there—”

  “Do you really think that’s stopping them? And, Jesus, going to an abandoned mine isn’t even the worst of it!”

  “Hanging with trailer trash will eventually land you in trouble! Why can’t you see that? There are plenty of kids in Orange Grove—”

  “Do you really think the kids in the Grove are better? You actually think the kids with money are the ones who behave? Are you really that stupid?” His dad took another step toward him, his jaw tight, his fists clenched at his sides, but Nate wasn’t about to back down. “The Grove group are the worst of the lot, Dad! They’re the ones burning down fields and slashing tires. Hell, last time I went to a party with them, Brian and Brad were doing cocaine, for God’s sake!”

  His dad seemed to deflate, his shoulders falling, his jaw dropping. “What? Are you sure?”

  “Well, unless there’s some other white powder people chop into little lines and snort through a rolled-up dollar bill, then yeah, I’m pretty damn sure! So I can go with the Grove kids and do a bit of coke before catching somebody’s field on fire and burning a few cows alive, or I can hang with the trailer-park kids, who only smoke weed because it’s all they can afford. Or I can be friends with Cody, who doesn’t do any of that stuff and gets a bad rap just because he has a couple of lousy parents!”

  Nate was breathing hard, his heart racing, but he was glad to see his dad’s anger had waned. Not only that, he seemed to be considering what Nate had told him. “And what about this girl you’ve been seeing?”

  It felt so far out of left field, Nate was taken aback. “What?”

  “This girl you’ve been dating, whoever she is. You’ve obviously been spending a lot of time with her since Thanksgiving. And based on the goofy grin you’ve been wearing since Christmas, things must be pretty hot and heavy with her. So, I’m asking, where does she fit into all this?”

  Nate faltered, glancing around the room as if it might provide some answers. But no. There was nothing but the couch and the bookshelves and an open encyclopedia still lying on the floor. He’d talked himself into a corner now.

  “Is it the girl you took to homecoming?”

  “Yes!” Nate snatched at the obvious answer. “Stacy. Her name’s Stacy.”

  “Stacy what? What’s her last name?”

  “Miller.” He just had to hope that his dad didn’t automatically have some dirt on Stacy or her family. Given that they were rule-following Mormons, he figured he was safe. “She’s friends with Cody too.” It was a blatant lie, but it seemed safe enough. Plus, it would give him a reason to stand by Cody’s side rather than terminating their friendship, despite his dad’s wishes. “And no matter what his parents have done, he’s not a bad kid, Dad. Neither is Stacy.” He bent over and picked up the encyclopedia. “Neither am I.”

  “I know you’re not. But once you start spending time with the wrong kinds of people—”

  “But I’m not. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m the one who goes to school with them. I’m the one who’s been to their parties and seen who’s doing what. And I’m telling you, there are tons of high schoolers in this town who get in way more trouble than Cody.” He slid the book back into place between K and M before turning to face his dad again. “It all boils down to trust. Either you trust me, or you don’t. So which is it?”

  His dad sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I worry about you.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “I wish we’d never moved here.”

  It surprised Nate. It also surprised him to realize that he no longer regretted the move at all. Yeah, Warren sucked. Maybe it was the black hole of modern civilization like Cody said. There was no tennis and no swimming and the goddamn wind never stopped blowing. But having met Cody made up for all of it.

  “Brad and Brian,” his dad said, still rubbing his neck th
oughtfully. “Brad Williams and Brian Anderson? Is that who you’re talking about?”

  Nate’s heart began to pound again. “You can’t bust them. If they find out I told you—”

  “Do you know where they got it?”

  “Brian said he stole it from his dad’s drawer. But listen to me, if they find out it was me who told—”

  “Don’t worry. If I have to trust you, the least you can do is trust me.”

  It seemed turnabout was fair play, but it didn’t make Nate feel any better.

  School started again after New Year’s, and Nate and Cody fell into an easy routine. Nate drove Cody to school every morning, and nearly every moment that wasn’t taken by school, the Tomahawk, or sleep, they spent together. They went to Nate’s if his dad was working, although even then, they were very careful about what they did there. Nate was too paranoid about his father catching them. If Cody’s mother was gone, they went to Cody’s. Sometimes, if the weather wasn’t bad, they found a back road and Nate let Cody drive his Mustang. Cody had a license, even though he never drove his mother’s car, but he’d never driven a stick, and teaching him how to operate the clutch kept them occupied for a few weeks.

  But like any teenagers, they lived for the weekends. Friday and Saturday nights, Cyndi was always gone, and they had several hours after Cody’s shift ended but before Nate had to be home for curfew, and they spent most of those hours sequestered in Cody’s room.

  Nate finally understood all the hype about sex.

  They never engaged in actual, penetrative sex. Neither of them seemed inclined to venture there just yet. Besides, there were plenty of ways to make each other feel good using only their hands and their mouths.

  Nate thought he’d become used to Warren, but being so close to Cody brought some of the uglier parts of small-town life home. The train schedule seemed sporadic, but when it came through Warren, it shook Cody’s entire trailer. Police showed up at Kathy and Pete’s place so often that Nate realized it was a miracle he’d managed to keep his friendship with Cody hidden from his dad for as long as he had. It was only a matter of time before his dad responded to a domestic disturbance call and saw Nate’s truck parked out front. Toward the end of January, Vera knocked on Cody’s door and asked if he’d seen Ted.