by Penny Lam
Take Shep’s grandmother. She raised Shep and Buck in that trailer and they were nothing but smiles. When I was four or five they’d be playing, laughing, kicking a soccer ball around, and always have a pat for my head.
My friends, too. Leigh Anne and Mikey, had homes filled with laughter and more often than not I tried to get invited over to dinner. So I dreamed of making a million dollars and taking us all to live at the beach. I’ve never seen the ocean, but I know I’ll love it when I do.
My old bike riding dreams were of escape.
Now, though, I’m surprised by my desire to stay. To be in that small trailer with Shep and Buck. Making food. Making love. Making babies. Just… making happiness, I guess. Because I’m a firm believer happiness isn’t something owed to you. You gotta make it happen.
A car drives by and the horn blares, making me skid a little and my heart race. I hear a voice scream, “Nice titties, Vickie!” followed by whoopin’ and hollerin’ from the rolled down windows. It’s Mikey. He used to be a best friend. We made mudpies together. He was almost my first kiss.
Like I said, things changed when I grew breasts.
Mikey’s riding with some other guys in an old Lincoln Town Car. He’s hanging out the window, wagging his tongue at me. It’s hard to reconcile the dropout who hangs with a rough crowd at the pool hall with the boy who used to play hide and seek for hours, long after the fireflies started to pepper the night sky.
When I reach the store I’m drenched in sweat. It’d be cooler if I pulled up my hair, but then I’d look like trash, thin t-shirt soaked through with perspiration, stuck to my skin like I’m in a wet t-shirt contest instead of trying to get groceries.
Grabbing a cart, I shiver when the doors slide open, the AC blasting through me. It feels good and awful at the same time, kind of like when Buck first put himself into my ass last night. Mom said men liked the back door. I’d been appalled when she said it. Now, though, I was forced to be more open minded. There’s no way I can keep up with men like Shep and Buck if I don’t use everything I’ve got.
He was gentle, too, at least at first. So it wasn’t so bad. Just real unfamiliar. Not like I expected.
I came all the same, and I don’t know what that says about me.
First stop is the cleaning aisle. I grab bleach and gloves. And, while it’ll be awkward to carry home on the bike, I grab a mop and bucket, too. Some spray and a vanilla-scented candle. There’s a small roll of thick twine that I grab as well. I want to get more, but I’m already pushing the limit of what I can haul back.
Next I grab three steaks, big ones. It’s a splurge and the price makes me feel a little sick. But it’s the first meal I’m fixing for the boys and I want to say thank you. Next I grab some baking potatoes, some sour cream, and another splurge: bacon bits. Eyeing the beer longfully, I wish I could get them some, but I’m not legal for that, yet.
It’s a little strange for me to think about. The way Shep and Buck took my body last night, all those things-- it became okay for men to do to me yesterday. But I can’t buy them alcohol. Where’s the sense it that?
Feeling good about my purchases, I take them to Miss Tammy at the front. Miss Tammy’s been working at the General for as long as I can remember. She looks the same, too. Old, grizzled. Like she’s seen more than she’ll let on.
“This all, Vickie?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The scanner beeps and she eyes the steaks. “Your Mama must be… workin’ hard.” Miss Tammy is also a bit of a busy body.
Shuffling, I look out the window at my bike, beginning to regret this trip. “It ain’t for her.”
“Oh,” is all Miss Tammy says, but I can feel her honing in on me. Her eyes putting pressure, like she’s able to reach out with her mind and poke me, saying tell me, tell me, tell me.
I keep my mouth shut, though, and the total is less than fifty. A relief. Saying ‘goodbye,’ I grab my haul and head out.
Balancing on the bike is precarious. I’ve got the food and stuff inside the mop bucket and the mop handle hooked over a shoulder. The other end rests on the handlebars. I hold them and the handle with one hand and the other holds the bucket.
Peddling is hard and my thighs are aching. If I keep shopping like this, maybe the hips Lloyd pokes fun at will melt away. It takes me twice as long to get back to the trailer park as it took to get to the store.
Wobbling through the park, the car in front of my Mama’s is gone. When I glance at her window, I see the blinds snap shut. It feels like a slap.
My brain knows that she used me. That my own mother set me up and was happy to whore me out. I get it, I do. But she’s still my mama, and while things weren’t great growing up, they weren’t terrible, either. Sometimes she’d make pancakes for dinner just because. Or pet my hair while we watched Saturday morning cartoons. Seeing her spy on me and hide from me is hard. It makes my chest ache in a way that doesn’t feel like it can get better.
Wheeling the bike next to Buck and Shep’s, I unload the groceries and haul them in. It’s just after noon and I’m starving. After more cereal and milk (there ain’t much else right now) I set to work.
The twine I take out back. There’s a small shed behind their trailer. A luxury, really, considering the lack of space in the park. I’m able to connect the twine, tying it in multiple passes between the door of the shed and the wooden post of the rail next to the back stoop.
It looks ugly as hell, but I’m pretty sure it’ll hold the wash. It’ll have to, because I don’t have many clothes.
Back inside, I create another line over the sink, tied off on the cabinets. I’m a lady, I don’t put my drawers outside for the whole park to see.
I find an old plastic tub filled with weights in their workout room. It’s tough hauling all the heavy weights from it. If I keep biking and having to move their heavy shit just to clean, I’m going to be fit in no time.
After enough effort, the plastic tub is cleaned out and filled with soapy water. The first load of laundry is soaking in it. While it sits, I start tidying up. Taking a garbage bag, I move through the house, tossing the empty bottles, cans, and wrappers from each room.
Two garbage bags later, I’m able to rinse the laundry clean and hang it, starting in on another. The sun is starting to move, and I’m surprised Buck isn’t home yet. He said it was just a half day. The trailer is slowly starting to look neater inside, like a home.
Shep and Buck don’t live in squaller, per se, but the trailer needed a lady’s touch. Being the lady who touches it means a lot to me.
When the clock hits five I start to feel antsy. Should I start in making dinner? At the least, I start baking the potatoes. They’ll sit in foil and stay hot. Without knowing how the boys like their steaks, there isn’t much else for me to do.
Buck and Shep have computers in their rooms. Shep’s looks like he actually uses it, the screen only humming as the computer sleeps. Buck’s though, is a laptop with a dusty cover. He hasn’t used it in a while, so I decide that’s a safer choice.
Cracking it open, I’m happy to see they have internet. The park got wifi a few years ago, and you could just pay into your rent fees in exchange for the password. Mama never saw any use for it, so I always had to use the internet at the library if I needed it.
It’s slow to boot up. Finally, his background loads, and I gasp. It’s a woman all tied up, a ball in her mouth. The woman’s mascara is running and she looks likes she’s in pain. Buck’s got this as his computer background!?
There’s two folders. One says “cars” and the other says “porn.” Just like that. He doesn’t even try to hide it. It feels wrong, like trespassing, but I open the porn folder.
Oh. My. Gosh.
All the things he’d warned me about and more are in here. There are pictures of girls getting spanked. Tied up. Their nipples clamped and things put in, um, all their parts. My cheeks burn and the arrow hovers above the ‘x’ to close the folder, but I can’t stop. Each picture or vide
o fills me with apprehension and desire. A lot of desire.
Between my legs, my pussy is starting to feel tingly and swollen. In my chest, my heart is stampeding. I could be like the women in the photos. Buck and Shep could do these things to me. Buck called it a punishment, but the way I’m feeling now, it’s hard for me to imagine feeling bad after.
A car door slams outside and I hastily close the folder and slam the computer shut.
Buck’s window faces the main street through the park, and I peek through his bent blinds to see if he’s home.
Instead, I see Lloyd, and all my tingly good feelings evaporate. He’s standing on my mama’s porch. She’s hovering in the door, wearing her red working robe, gesturing toward the trailer. Toward me.
Worrying my lip, I slowly crack the window to see if I can hear what they’re saying. It squeaks and I freeze, worried they heard. But Mama’s voice is still rattling on, and Lloyd’s got his hand all over his face, like he can rub all the bad out.
He’s not a nice man and will be rubbing for a long time.
Finally, he storms toward Buck and Shep’s trailer. Toward me. The clock says it’s five forty five. Buck should’ve been home hours ago, and Shep doesn’t get in ‘til six. Which means I’m alone.
Lloyd storms up the steps and bangs on the door. The rattles of the front door shake apart my nerves.
What can he do? Nothing. Just see what they want.
Still, Buck has a hunting knife next to his bed. I don’t know why I grab it-- Lloyd may be an ass but he’s never laid a hand on me or Mama-- and go to answer the door.
I crack it. “What do you want?
“Your Mama says to get your slut ass back to the house. This is over.” Lloyd’s growl makes my blood run cool and I grip the handle of the knife, still hidden, a little harder.
“No. Tell her I ain’t coming back.”
“Open the goddamn door, Vickie.”
“Please leave, I’ve got nothin’ more to say. I’m eighteen. Y’all can’t make me do anything I don’t want.”
This was the wrong thing to say. He was irritated before, but now I’ve pissed him off. He pulls the screen, but it’s locked. “You’re coming home, Vickie. We got a lot to talk about. You owe me, you know. Ten thousand dollars. You’re gonna work that sweet young pussy to pay me back.”
“That’s not my fault. I don’t owe you anything! Mama lied to me-- she said it was only five thousand! You were going to pocket almost all of it!”
“That’s the way this works, Vickie. If you open the door and come home now, though, maybe we can talk about a different split. If I’m not angry. But you’re real close to making me angry, and that isn’t going to work out for you.” He’s already angry. His voice is raising. The hairs on my neck stick up. Please come home, Shep! Buck! I need you!
“Lloyd, I don’t now, nor will I ever, work for you.” I want it to sound tough. Final. Instead it just sounds like a meek, little girl.
He doesn’t wait. He starts banging on the screen. Screaming, I slam the front door shut and lock it. The banging grows louder, splitting my ears. Peeking through the window, I see his figure rock back as he starts kicking.
There’s a shattering and a squeal as he breaks and then rips the screen door right on off. Hands trembling, I scoot to a corner and hold my knife in front of me. The big, nasty blade gives little comfort.
Just as the front door starts to quiver, Lloyd determined to kick it down, too, there’s shouting outside and blare of a car horn. A door slams shut and someone is bellowing at Lloyd. A scuffle noise comes, then a slam on the front door that shakes the whole trailer.
Another yell and I recognize the voice. My heart leaps and I scramble up. It’s Shep!
Yanking the door open, I see Buck’s there, too. Both of them are beating on Lloyd and while violence frightens me, a piece of me is glad for it. Lloyd scares me, and now I’m seeing that Shep and Buck weren’t just lying to sleep with me. They’re protecting me.
It’s brutal.
Shep has his arm around Lloyd’s neck, choking, while Buck is laying into his ribs. My mama is shrieking, her banshee wail piercing the trailer park. A crowd of my neighbors are moving in, shouting in panic but afraid to jump in. Who would try to stop a bear fight? That’s what this was like, both Shep and Buck snarling as they made their territory safe.
My insides are fluttering from pride, but a flash and the sirens shut everything down. The cops spin in, doors opening and uniforms spilling out. They’ve got guns and I’m tasting bile, suddenly scared for my men.
But they’re no fools. Both of them freeze, hands up, letting Lloyd drop to the ground. Lloyd’s sputtering, curled in on himself, and spitting blood into the clay. It’s tough to look at, but he’ll live.
My mama comes in, railing. “Arrest them!”
Shep’s silent as an officer moves behind to cuff him, as if he’s resigned to this outcome, but Buck’s still raring for a fight. “Oh, hell no! This motherfucker was kicking in our damned door! We’re just protecting what’s ours!”
“You thugs! You’re lying!” My mama is hissing, boldly stepping in and poking a finger in Buck’s chest before another officer intervenes. Good thing, too. The white-eyed look on Buck’s face is wild, and I’m not sure he’s above clocking a woman right now.
“Buck,” the officer says gently, “Don’t make this hard.”
They’re going to take them away. They’re going to arrest them just because they were protecting me! Dropping the knife in the house, I run down the steps. “Stop! Please don’t! They were protecting me from him.” Looking pointedly at Lloyd’s twisting, moaning body, I resist the urge to spit.
The park is small. Everyone knows everyone and no one’s business is as secret as they might like. We don’t talk much and neighborly loyalty isn’t something you should count on. Not because we’re cruel, but because each trailer is loaded with its own baggage.
But now my neighbors come crowding in, defending Buck and Shep. They swarm around the officers, each one spilling a story about what had happened. Mute, I watch, hoping against hope.
It works.
“Call an ambulance,” the officer behind Shep says while uncuffing him. He shakes Shep’s hand, which looks bruised, the knuckles split open. “Sorry ‘bout that, Shep. Buck.” He nods. “Come down tomorrow and make an official report, okay?” The officer sounds weary and it’s shameful. Like we’re all just trailer trash, getting in the way of his good day.
Still, watching them cuff Lloyd to the stretcher and drive off is nice. My mama’s face, tight and pale with rage, just makes me sad. I don’t know if it’s her or Lloyd pushing this thing, but this isn’t how I pictured us. We weren’t ever gonna be close, but I always figured she’d be there.
“Come inside, baby girl.” Buck places his hand on my ass, right there in front of everyone in the park, and guides me inside. Like he’s marking me as his.
It feels good, erasing some of the jaggedness stemming from all the adrenaline.
Inside, a smell catches me in the nose. “Shit!” Running to the stove, I pull the potatoes out. They’re withered and dry, but not burning. “Oh, damnit!” Opening the window above the sink, I start fanning their crispy smell out of the house. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overcook them!”
“Don’t worry about it, honey,” Shep says as he grabs two beers from the fridge. “You were distracted. What was that piece of shit doing here?”
“Trying to get me. He says I owe him the money. That Clay was gonna pay for, you know, my--”
“Your cherry?” Buck laughs. “Sorry, Lloyd, Clay-- that ship has sailed.” We laugh and I get their steak orders. Setting the table, we sit.
A family.
Shep
“I still can’t believe he thought he could kick in our door without consequence.” Buck is steaming. So am I, but he tends to pipe out hot air, while I tend to let the pressure build. When I explode, no one should be around.
The steak is amazing and
a surprise. Buck and I order our fair share of pizza, and I tend to bring home chicken and such often. The only time we cook is when we hunt. Knowing sweet little Vickie is a good cook --well, except for the potatoes -- is a bonus.
She takes these small bites, lifting them to her mouth and chewing slow, savoring each one. Her big brown eyes even shut once or twice, like it’s the best thing she’s ever eaten. I like a woman who knows how to eat. How to take pleasure in the little things. My life’s been one rough ride after the other, and I know sometimes the small things count the most.
Under the table, I’m sporting a wicked hard on. It’s the adrenaline from the fight. The high of getting out of those cuffs. I know the local PD has had their eye on me since my parents disappeared. They’re just looking for an excuse to lock me up.
“It was scary,” Vickie answers Buck. “I didn’t know where you were.”
A wounded look flits across Buck’s face. “Sorry, baby. I had to work later than I thought, and then Shep brought his car in.” He does look sorry, too, and I know he’s blaming himself. But Joe needed help, and Buck’s the kind of guy who’ll give you shit for asking but come through no matter what.
“Vickie.” He says it sternly, like she’s a little girl in trouble. Her back straightens and her face pales.
“Yes, Buck?” Jesus, that sweet little voice. The pouty lip. Her big brown eyes becoming hazy with lust.
“Stand up and take off your clothes.” My eyes follow her every move as she stands, trembling. Fingers grab at the bottom of her tank top and pull it tantalizingly slow over her head, exposing those big titties I love so much. Her jean shorts and panties follow. There’s red lines etched into her skin from her clothes being too tight. If my blood wasn’t all in my cock, I’d be angrier for her. Her mother should have paid for clothes that fit.
Once naked, Buck demands she clean the table. Both of us watch like hungry beasts as she works, her body wobbling and jiggling in all the right places. When she finishes, she stands between us. I love how her stomach is clenched, fearful of what’s next, while her smell--
