The Many Aspects of Mobile Home Living

by Martin Clark

“Sorry about your case, Jo Miller and all; I meant to mention it before now, but it slipped my mind,” Henry said. He’d just moved Rudy’s thimble eight spaces and was looking at a deed when he spoke.

  “Thanks,” said Evers.

  “We’ve been trying to get you for a couple days,” Pascal said.

  “I’ve had the phone off the hook a lot. Did you try the office?”

  “Lost the number and forgot the name of the court. I knew you were working in Winston-Salem, though. I just didn’t have the energy to try all the possibilities in the phone listings. How about writing it down again for me?”

  “So what’s up?”

  “You didn’t see?” asked Rudy.

  “See what?” Evers looked around the kitchen.

  “Outside.”

  “What’s outside?”

  Henry laughed. “Check the drive, Evers.”

  “Rudy got his car,” Pascal said.

  “He got the … the what?” Evers stuttered; he felt a twitch run from his face to his abdomen to his knees.

  “Can you believe this? We just got it a couple days ago.” Rudy was excited; he spoke quickly. “Like I say, we’ve been trying to call you for a while, but Pascal felt pretty sure you’d said you were coming down today so we didn’t worry a whole lot.”

  “What kind is it?” Evers asked.

  “A Packard,” Rudy said. “I wonder if we only get one wish with the smiling talisman?”

  “Is that what you wanted?” Evers said. “I can’t remember.”

  “Well, I asked for a Packard limousine, and this is just a standard passenger car, but I’m okay with that.”

  Evers sat down. “Rudy, you swear this isn’t a joke or trick? I don’t think you would lie to me, but this is fucking me up. You really got this car?”

  “No joke. Just like Henry got the money.”

  “How?”

  Rudy grinned. He stopped playing Monopoly. “Three years ago, this guy’s eating at Donald’s Pit Cooked over in Concord. It’s hot as shit, and he gets food poisoning. Hits him quickly and violently. He thinks he’s having the big myocardial infarction—a heart attack. He comes to the ER; I get him stabilized and healthy. Turns out that he owns Red Brick Industries—they make and sell brick all over the place. Guy’s name is Hall. James Willard Hall. Check the Fortune list, he’s about number thirty or so. Megarich. We talked about cars while he was in the hospital. He had to stay overnight, and I hung out with him. He was a collector. Nice guy, knew his automobiles. Each year he sends me a Christmas card and letter.”

  Evers looked at his brother. “Is this true, Pascal?”

  “As far as I know. Rudy mentioned the guy to me before.”

  “Anyway, I talked to him and got his gastrointestinal problems cleared up, and he liked me. I understand he had a wife but no kids or brothers or sisters. So he dies a couple of weeks ago and leaves me a Packard. They called me and trucked it right down here. The guys who brought it said he had over seventy cars.”

  “Probably like givin’ away a TV or sofa for a guy with that kind of money,” Henry said.

  “If that,” said Pascal.

  “By the way, I left you guys as beneficiaries for my lottery checks if I die before they’re paid out.” Henry seemed a little embarrassed.

  “Thanks, Henry,” said Pascal.

  “Yeah, thanks,” said Rudy at about the same time.

  “I guess that leaves you and me, Pascal.” Evers looked at the game board. Everything was sloppy. The houses were crooked, the money and deeds scattered everywhere.

  “Just you, I guess.” Pascal smiled. “I’m about as happy and serene as I can get. I love my life and my friends. I don’t have any worries, don’t have any responsibilities.”

  Rudy handed Henry some Monopoly money. “Jo Miller probably shouldn’t fly anytime soon.” They all chuckled a little, but no one glanced at Evers or stopped looking at the board.

  “Guess who’s coming to visit us tonight, brother.”

  “Who?” Evers asked.

  “Guess.”

  “I don’t know. Charo? David Copperfield? Baby Doc Duvalier and the Ton-Ton Macoutes? Paul Lynde?”

  “Paul Lynde is dead,” Henry noted.

  “I’ll take Rose Marie to block,” Rudy said, snickering.

  “So who’s coming?” Evers asked again. “I give up.”

  “Ruth Esther.”

  “Really? Ruth Esther? Why?”

  “She was supposed to be here by now. She’s late, but she said she was coming.”

  “Why?” Evers wondered. “Why’s she coming?”

  “I called her,” Pascal said, “and invited her to play some double-wide Monopoly with us. I thought it would be nice, since you were coming down—sort of a reunion.”

  “It’s Parker Brothers’ real estate trading game,” Henry quipped, “the most popular board game in history.”

  “And she’s coming just to hang out?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  Evers looked around the corner into the den. “That explains why you guys are sober and everything’s so clean.”

  “I found this service, a cleaning service called Maid for You. Cute name, huh? They came in a van, about five of them, and cleaned the kitchen and bathroom and den and started on my bedroom. They’d only set aside an hour, so they didn’t get all the way through.”

  “I think I’m going to have to break over and have just a small hit,” Rudy said. “Just a little bowl. She’s late anyway. Watch my empire for a moment, Evers, okay?”

  Evers sat down in Rudy’s chair. “Welfare as you know it just ended, Henry. I’ll be moving my piece all by myself.”

  “Damn. That’s cold. Cut the safety net, why don’t you? Pascal and I will get some signs and bullhorns and fat union guys and sisters with litters and an all-caps acronym—SURGE or something like that—and a chant and picket your big-ass, red, Boardwalk hotel. You may want to think again. Or we might burn and loot for a while over on Baltic, just to show our colors a little bit.”

  “Civil disobedience,” Pascal remarked.

  “I’m merely the landlord. You’ll have to take your issues up with the car doctor.”

  Ruth Esther knocked on the door while Rudy was still in Pascal’s room smoking marijuana, and Henry let her in. Everyone stood up when she walked into the kitchen. Rudy yelled “hello” from the back of the trailer and announced that he’d be out in a few minutes, after he “finished reading the last few lines of an Emily Dickinson poem.”

  Ruth Esther seemed happy and relaxed and flattered by all the attention and preparation. Pascal started the game over, and the four men and Ruth Esther played Monopoly and talked and told stories until one in the morning. Pascal had bought her a bottle of Riesling from a regional winery, and she drank three glasses of the wine and ate some crackers and a small piece of cheese. The men drank beer, but not that much, and they occasionally went back into Pascal’s room to read more Emily Dickinson, but not that often. Rudy and Henry left for about twenty minutes, to get cigarettes and candy bars. “I love my new car,” Rudy proclaimed when he walked back into the trailer.

  “That was fun,” Ruth Esther said after the last game ended. “Thank you for inviting me.” She was wearing a pair of modest denim shorts and a white T-shirt underneath a darker, long-sleeve shirt. The long-sleeve shirt was tucked in and buttoned about halfway up. It was the first time Evers had seen Ruth Esther in clothes with color.

  “Thank you for coming,” Pascal said.

  Ruth Esther asked if she could spend the night at the trailer, and Pascal offered to let her stay in one of the bedrooms. Henry and Rudy also volunteered a room for the night. Ruth Esther thanked them and decided to stay at Pascal’s. She hugged the car doctor, Henry and Evers, kissed Pascal’s cheek and went to bed in the extra bedroom.

  “Nice,” said Pascal, and the other three men agreed and winked and grinned. Henry finished a beer and tossed the empty into a grocery bag beside the trash can.


  “Let’s go to Carowinds tomorrow,” Rudy said. “It’s supposed to be hot and we can ride the water rides and play arcade games, get a little buzz, drink some good beer. You can buy Guinness Stout at Lowes now.”

  “It’s usually crowded this time of year,” Evers said. “The lines are too long, especially for the good rides.”

  “Who cares?”

  Henry spoke up. “I’d probably have to take my wife.”

  “Maybe Ruth Esther would like to go,” Pascal said. “I might ask her.”

  “Well, call me in the morning, when you—” Henry didn’t finish what he was saying.

  Ruth Esther walked back into the kitchen. “I’m sorry to bother you,” she said. “There are a lot of things on the bed in my room—clothes and a rifle and a whole bunch of Nintendo cartridges. What do you want me to do with them?”

  “Oh, sorry. Damn. Just put everything on the floor. The maids didn’t make it that far.”

  “Okay.” Ruth Esther had her hands in front of her, her second fingers pressed together, the tips almost touching her chin.

  “Do you need some help?” Evers asked.

  “Oh, no. I’m just sorry to be a problem.”

  “We’re glad you came,” Pascal said. “We don’t get many guests.”

  “Where are you going to sleep, Judge Wheeling? You’re not leaving tonight, are you? Am I taking your bed?” Ruth Esther asked.

  “I always sleep on the sofa,” Evers said.

  “Do you want me to sleep on the sofa? I’ll be glad to,” Ruth Esther offered.

  “Please, take the bed. Really.”

  “I don’t want to put anyone out.”

  “You’re not. We’re glad you’re here,” Pascal assured her. “In fact, we were thinking about going to Carowinds tomorrow, the theme park near Charlotte. The weather’s supposed to be good, if you’d like to go.”

  “I’ll think about it; we’ll see. That might be fun.”

  “Good.”

  “I hope you’ll come.” Rudy smiled at Ruth Esther.

  “My wife might go,” Henry said.

  “Thank you all for asking me. Let’s talk about it in the morning.” Ruth Esther took her hands down. “Good night. If you have trouble sleeping, Evers, let me know, okay? I don’t want to kick anyone out of his bed. By the way, what happened to the window in there? It’s so dark.”

  “Oh. Right. A rock flew out from under the mower and busted it. Henry and I nailed particleboard over it. We need to repair it. Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. It just really seems kind of shut up.”

  After Rudy and Henry left for the night, Evers and Pascal went into the den and turned on the TV. Pascal had purchased a satellite system with some of the money Henry had given him from the lottery winnings. A black-and-white movie was on, and the men kept the volume low so Ruth Esther could sleep.

  “It’s just too much of a coincidence, Rudy getting that car,” Evers said.

  “Whatever.”

  “It’s a beautiful car, really sharp.”

  “It is nice.” Pascal nodded.

  “I’d like to have a car like that, now that I’ve seen Rudy’s.” Evers put his feet on the sofa.

  “I’ve often thought that there are really just two sentiments in the world: envy and pity. The world’s divided into people and places below you and above you.”

  “You’re probably right. I’m just too indifferent to notice these days.” Evers started taking his shoes off.

  “So how’s your wish coming?” asked Pascal.

  “I can only hope. Think I need to put her picture and a map to her house in the freezer with the decanter?”

  Pascal rubbed his eyes. “She’s a bitch, Evers.” His voice was very matter-of-fact.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said.”

  Evers stared at the TV. The movie was a romantic comedy. A black-and-white man with slicked-back hair was laughing, but Evers had trouble hearing what the actors were saying. “Did you have sex with her?”

  Pascal didn’t answer for a moment. “Yeah. Yes.”

  “Why? Jesus.”

  “There really isn’t any excuse, is there, Evers? It’s all pretty much the same.”

  “Depends. Sometimes it’s capital murder, sometimes just involuntary manslaughter.”

  “Ah, Judge Wheeling. It must be nice to be able to grade evil.”

  “So tell me.”

  “Well, it was several years ago, a long time ago, when we all went to Wrightsville Beach. Remember? There were about ten or twelve of us and we were … it was at the beach. And I was fairly drunk and stoned—no excuse, Evers, I know—and you and Henry had gone out bowling and drinking and I swear it happened just like that. She came into my room when I was in the shower. I did it once. One time. I had no idea beforehand. No flirting or anything. No warnings or brushes under the table. It was really sudden. She tried for two or three years afterward, all the time. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” Pascal stopped talking for a moment. “I mean, you know, I liked it. I liked the sex because it was so wrong and nasty. I’m not going to lie about that. But it was a one-time mistake, at the beach, with a buzz, years ago.”

  “I can’t believe you’d do it, as close as we are.”

  “That sort of made it easier, in one sense. I knew you would forgive me. And the way Jo Miller was—is—and the way she acted, it wasn’t like I was ruining something that was sacrosanct or pure. I think she really must hate you. I know she hates me.”

  “Like I said, I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

  “It does matter; I was wrong. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you when she did it.” Pascal had his head bowed when he spoke.

  “Sure.”

  “You know, Evers, I wrote her and called her a couple of times before your trial, to try to, I don’t know, make some kind of peace, try to get her to settle things without dragging us through all this. To tell the truth, I sent her a … a proposal, I guess you’d call it, not long ago. She wrote me back just as hard as nails, said that what she was doing was best for everybody concerned, whatever the fuck that means. And I tried to get her to say something or write something that you could use against her, but that never happened. She was too smart to admit to anything, even over the phone.”

  “She wrote you? Wrote you back?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you still have the letters? I’d like to see them.”

  “No. Why would I? I … I threw them away. Well, actually, maybe I still have them somewhere … around here.”

  “Did you fuck her again, Pascal? Did you?”

  “Lord, no.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “What the hell are you doing trying to settle my case, making offers without asking me?”

  “I was trying to help, Evers. Just trying to help. Almost anything would beat another trip to court, and at least it kept some dialogue going.”

  “Dialogue? You think you’re Henry-fucking-Kissinger? What the hell does that mean—dialogue?”

  “I’m sorry. I really am. I screwed the whole thing up from start to finish. I do hope it makes some difference to you that she initiated the sex.” Pascal looked up at the TV.

  “That’s a good excuse. I’m sure you battled and struggled for what was right.” Evers was suddenly very mad.

  “I don’t know why you’re defending Jo Miller, Evers.”

  “Don’t blame her, Pascal. She didn’t provide the hard-on. You’re just as wrong as she is. All you had to do was say no. Just like you’ve said no to a million other things.”

  “Whatever.”

  Evers was angry. He stared at Pascal. “I get tired of all your Gandhi, passive bullshit and pissy resignation.”

  “Sometimes you just sort of give up and trade your land for shiny beads and a drink. You know what I mean, Evers?”

  EIGHT

  THE NEXT MORNING, EVERS AND PASCAL WERE STILL NOT awake at eight-thirt
y; they had fallen asleep and left the TV on all night. When Evers woke up it was raining, a dopey Love Boat episode was just starting, and someone was knocking on the door. Evers assumed it was Henry or Rudy, but upon opening the door, he didn’t recognize the two men standing on the steps. Both were wearing suits. One was dressed in a vest and a polyester tie, the other had on cowboy boots and a large belt buckle inlaid with turquoise.

  “Are you Judge Wheeling?” The man in the vest was speaking. He was shorter than Evers and almost bald. The man with him was taller and handsome.

  “Yes.”

  “Could we talk with you for a moment?”

  “That depends. Who are you and what do you want?” Evers’ tone was brusque. Cool.

  “We’d like to speak with you for a moment. We’re policemen.”

  “Do you have some sort of identification?”

  Both men held up metal badges in small plastic wallets, only inches away from Evers’ face. “This is Investigator Loggins, and I’m Investigator Greenfield.” Loggins was the good-looking one. He hadn’t spoken yet.

  “I’m sorry. Sure, come in.”

  “We have some bad news for you.” Greenfield looked straight at Evers. “Your wife is dead.”

  “Come in,” he said again. He tried to recall what the kitchen looked like. As best as he could remember, no dope was in plain view. “Dead. Jo Miller? My wife? Oh …” Evers made a quick sweep with his hand, beckoned the officers through the door.

  The three men sat down at the kitchen table. The game board and several cans and ashtrays were still on the table. Evers sat next to Greenfield.

  “Do you mind if we smoke?” Loggins asked. It was the first time he had spoken.

  “I’m trying to cut back, but everyone else around here does, so go ahead.”

  “If it bothers you, I won’t.” Loggins reached inside his coat pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes. The package was almost flat, the cellophane torn at one corner. He didn’t make an effort to remove any of the cigarettes, just held the pack in his hand. “We’re sorry about your wife.”

  Evers looked at Greenfield, then Loggins. He knew they were evaluating his reaction. “To be honest, we were getting a divorce and pretty much despised each other. I can’t say I’m disappointed that she’s dead.” Evers put his hands on the table in front of him and noticed a note from Ruth Esther underneath the thimble and terrier tokens from the Monopoly game.