An adult stories – Five Trailers, Lot E by JimBob44,JimBob44 *Author’s Note: Any and all persons willingly engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microwave Spoil-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
**..**
Brenda Broussard watched as Angela Gernaud and an unknown blonde knelt on the filthy living room carpet and hungrily kissed one another for the amusement of her twin brothers, Peter and Paul. She did not find the scene amusing or erotic; it saddened her.
Angela wore her Cabrini Catholic High School uniform despite having been expelled a few months earlier. The uniform blouse was no longer the pristine starched white color it had been. The blouse was stained and there were sweat circles underneath each armpit. The skirt was filthy and torn in a few places.
The other blonde wore a halter top and Daisy Duke Denim shorts. Brenda had never seen this blonde before; she assumed this blonde was new to the addiction. Her clothes were relatively clean, her skin was still healthy, her teeth did not show the ravages of meth use. She even wore a wedding ring and a fairly nice engagement ring; she still had her jewelry.
“Hey, Angela, why you don’t play with her tits, huh?” Peter smirked.
The trailer door slammed shut and Bobby Broussard, their father stormed into the trailer. He stopped in front of the new blonde and used her hair to pull her from her knees to dangle in the air.
“Fucking card got refused,” Bobby snarled hatefully at the woman. “Your husband’s card? Got refused.”
“What? It, no, no, I got three hundred, Paul, remember? I got three hundred just this afternoon,” the woman whined.
“And that three hundred’s gone,” Bobby screamed, face millimeters from the blonde’s frantic face.
“And then we let you and this little pig here use another hundred worth,” Paul said, kicking Angela when he said ‘little pig.’
“Where’s the card? I, I’ll get some more,” the woman pleaded.
“Fuck! That, that felt good,” Paul said and delivered a second, much more forceful kick to Angela’s side.
“God damn, what? Call that a kick you fucking pussy,” Peter giggled, getting to his feet and approaching the groaning meth addict.
Brenda turned and fled to her room. She cursed Deborah Broussard, her mother; her mother knew what her father and two brothers were capable of. Her mother knew exactly what hell she was leaving her daughter to live in when she packed everything in her car one morning and drove away.
Brenda vaguely remembered living in a loving and happy home. She’d been a little girl when the Baggett Mattress Factory had caught on fire one night. Bobby had been injured when the roof collapsed. A series of operations had left him a bitter, scarred man addicted to pain killers. They lost their home because Bobby was spending every penny on drugs instead of bills. Their mother worked as a waitress at Dusty’s Country Kitchen to pay the lot fees and the utilities for the trailer.
When Peter and Paul were old enough, they dropped out of school and began selling drugs. Bobby then hit on the idea of manufacturing the drugs, rather than selling for Lynelle Turner. Lynelle had not taken this turn of events well.
Lynelle Turner had sent an enforcer to the trailer, to persuade Bobby and Peter and Paul that cutting Lynelle out of the picture was a bad idea.
Lynelle was sitting In Sweet Pea’s Restaurant, enjoying their stuffed pork chops when Bobby Broussard walked in, sat at Lynelle’s table and dropped one of Farley’s rings onto the table.
“Farley has retired,” Bobby said, manic smile on his face. “But, here’s one of his rings as a gift for you.”
Bobby stood, wished the frightened man a good evening, and left. Lynelle picked up the ring and dropped it again when he saw the blood on the fake gold and glass ring.
Shortly after the boys dropped out of school, their mother took off. Bobby had not believed Brenda when she said she didn’t know where her mother had gone and beat her with his belt until she lay on the floor, not moving.
Her father seemed remorseful for that day, remorseful for the horrific and unwarranted beating. He never raised a hand to her again. And, never displayed any affection to her again.
Now, running from the living room of their double-wide trailer, running from the sadistic and inhumane treatment of two women, Brenda ran past the lab room. She skittered to a stop; the door was slightly ajar.
The door was never open. In fact, there was a hasp that normally had a large padlock locking it securely shut. But someone had removed the padlock, someone had opened the door, and someone had left the room unattended, open.
Peering in, Brenda saw the equipment. She saw jars of liquid, saw various powders in clear plastic bags. And, she saw the green canvas duffel bag. The bag was unzipped and Brenda could see dollar bills spilling out onto the desk.
Whenever she needed money, for groceries, for feminine products, she went to her father. Bobby wouldn’t even make eye contact with her as he peeled off a hundred dollar bill. Brenda tried to be a good girl, tried to earn his love. She would always offer him the change and he would just mutter for her to hang onto it for the next time she needed whatever it was.
Her Raggedy Ann doll, the last thing Deborah Broussard gave to her daughter no longer contained any stuffing. Brinda had pulled a few threads loose in the doll’s foot and had stuffed all the dollar bills into the doll. A safety pin kept the foot secure.
Now, hearing the maniacal giggles and the obscene sounds of flesh hitting flesh, Brenda looked around at the source of all her troubles. Brenda looked around at the corrosive materials that had eaten away her childhood, her happiness.
A steady diet of fast food restaurants had played havoc with her body. At five feet one inch tall, Brenda Jo Broussard possessed a 30DD chest, a twenty six inch waist and a thirty two inch hips with bubble butt. She’d had her first menstrual sycle at age nine and Peter and Paul had taken notice that she had begun to develop.
Thankfully, Bobby had come in from some task or other and had caught the boys trying to touch the crying, begging girl. He had delivered an ass whipping to the two boys, Paul still had one upper front tooth missing from that day. But, other than to call her hateful names, they never bothered her again.
“And ain’t never even said they love me neither,” Brenda thought bitterly as she moved toward the equipment.
A disposable cigarette lighter lay on the high table. Brinda saw a gas jet and wondered. The brutal sounds continued, the awful giggling continued, their father’s guffaws now joining in.
Brenda placed a jar of ether into a wire hoop and suspended it just above the gas jet. Turning the jet on, Brenda lighted the jet. Then, she grabbed the duffel bag and quickly zipped it shut.
The padlock was on the desk; she saw it when she pulled the heavy bag from the desk. Brenda removed the large ring of keys from the lock and hurried to the door, canvas bag in hand.
She knew, she knew her father would pull his.44 magnum from his waistband; he was proud of the large handgun, loved showing it off, loved telling people what it could do to the human body. If he caught her with his money, his precious money in her possession, he would not hesitate to kill her. The money was far more precious to him than she had ever been.
“Can’t be no worse than what I’m doing now,” Brenda said as she locked the door, clicking the padlock shut.
Brenda grabbed her large backpack and stuffed the duffel bag inside of it. She put some clothing on top of the duffel bag, then, on a whim, put a box of sanitary napkins at the very top. Raggedy Ann in hand, Brenda dug her cell phone out of her jeans pocket and put it to her ear.
“Yes ma’am, Miss Mindy. Hope it’s a girl yeah,” She said, looping her backpack over her shoulder and carrying her Raggedy Ann doll down the hall.
“No ma’am, be right there,” Brenda said, averting her eyes as she entered the living room.
“Hey! Where, where you think you going? Almost ten at night here,” Bobby ordered.
“That Miss Mindy? Remember, used live right there? Lot A?” Brenda said, pointing across the clamshell drive toward the now empty trailer. “She having her baby, nees me come over and watch her and Mr. George’s babies while they at the hospital.”
“Let’s see what you got in that backpack,” Bobby ordered.
“Yes sir,” Brenda said dutifully, unzipping the heavy bag.
“Never mind,” Bobby quickly said, seeing the box of sanitary napkins and some of Brenda’s panties and a bra just inside the large pack. “Why you bringing your doll?”
“Uh? Can’t sleep without it,” Brenda said. “Aint’ got no idea how long they going be. Might have sleep there.”
Brenda did not know if ether was flammable. She did know, sooner or later, though, the heat would build up and gasses would build up in the jar, causing the lid to pop off. The noise was sure to be loud, loud enough to get Bobby’s attention. There would be nowhere for her to hide from his wrath once he discovered her attempted sabotage of their precious laboratory.
“I can go? They sending an Uber and I got be at the stop sign waiting,” Brenda said.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah, go on,” Bobby said, turning his attention back to their hapless victims.
Brenda was at the stop sign, a hundred yards away when the explosion occurred. She felt the concussion of the blast at the same time she heard the thunderous ‘BOOM!’ The force of the blast nearly knocked her to her knees. The roar of the explosion deafened her; she wondered if she’d ever regain her hearing.
“I’m so sorry,” Brenda whispered, thinking of Angela and the unknown woman. “Hope y’all can forgive me.”
Walking to the DeGarde Inn, Brenda saw the first fire engine, ambulance and police cruiser scream past. Again, she felt horrible remorse for the two women. Then she realized; she’d been able to hear the sirens; her hearing had been restored.
“They got to be better off; least they won’t be needing use no more,” Brenda attempted to console herself as she entered the hotel’s lobby.
“Help you?” the woman behind the counter smiled. “Aw! I had me one them Raggedy Ann’s when I was a little girl; God! Wonder what ever happened to her? I’m need call my momma, bet she’d know.”
“Bus tickets?” Brenda asked.
While Brenda Jo Broussard hurried from the trailer park, in Uncle Danny’s trailer on Lot C, Susan Gerrard sat on the toilet, cursing her best friend, Sydnee Thompson for giving her the flu. Sammy and Daisy and Uncle Danny and Miss Rose were in Norwill, Tennessee, looking at the campus of Norwill University, the latest university to offer Samuel Gerrard a full ride scholarship. Susan couldn’t go because she was sick.
Just as a fresh bout of cramps struck, causing Susan to groan in misery, a huge thunderclap was heard and the trailer was blown off of its cinderblocks. Susan was knocked from her perch and slammed into the wall. She attempted to clamp her rectum shut but could not help the unfortunate occurrence.
She’d been playing ‘Candy Crush’ on her cell phone. Now, she located the device and called 911. She crawled; the severe pitch of the trailer made walking on the floor nearly impossible.
“There’s been an explosion; something blew up,” Susan said when the operator answered. “Blew the trailer almost on its side.”
Crawling to the living room, Susan gasped. She could see that the trailer on Lot E was a fireball. She could also see that the Thompson trailer was off its mooring, and was smoldering.
“Need to send a fire truck!” Susan screamed to the operator. “The Broussard trailer’s on fire and it looks like the Thompson trailer’s next! Hurry!”
Susan hoisted herself upright, opened the door, which was difficult since the door opened outward, and stepped out onto the concrete steps. She screamed; the glass from their screen door cut through her fuzzy socks into her feet. Her cell phone clattered onto the concrete pad then skittered down the steps onto the clam shell drive.
Susan wanted to sit; her feet were in agony. Vut the Thompson trailer was ablaze. Despite her bloody feet, Susan ran for the Thompson trailer.
There were no cars in front of the trailer at Lot A; George and Mindy had moved out; they were buying a house in Baylor Lake. There were no cars in front of Lot B either. Susan assumed the cute boy that lived there was on a date with his really pretty red headed girlfriend. She didn’t know anything about the beautiful brunette woman; she seemed to work late hours.
“Miss Linda! Miss Linda! Sydnee,” Susan screamed, hammering on their thin door. “Fire! Fire! Sydnee! Miss Linda! Y’all need get out!”
The knob was locked. Susan turned and ran back for Uncle Danny’s truck; they’d taken Miss Rose’s Mercedes-Benz for the car trip. Jumping into the bed, Susan rooted around for the tire iron. The clam shells of the parking lot cut horribly into her feet as she ran again for the burning trailer.
Susan jammed the tire iron into the flimsy door and gave a tremendous heave. The door splintered and popped open.
Crawling inside, Susan found a drunk and disoriented Linda staggering, trying to find her footing. The smoke was thick and noxious and Miss Linda was coughing and asking Ralph for forgiveness. Susan grabbed the woman as she attempted to walk toward the source of the smoke.
“Miss Linda, Come on!” Susan screamed, dragging the woman to the floor. “Come on! Crawl! Crawl with me!”
“Ralph. I, I’m going be with my Ralph,” Miss Linda sobbed. “It’s what I deserve!”
“Miss Linda, please! You can be with Ralph later,” Susan begged, pulling the resisting woman toward the trailer’s front door.
Susan managed to push the drunk woman out onto the rusty metal steps of the trailer. She hoped the woman would stay put but feared that the woman might re-enter the burning trailer.
Susan’s eyes watered, her throat burned as she made her way to Sydnee’s door.
“Momma?” Sydnee weakly cried out when Susan managed to push the twisted door of Sydnee’s room open.
“Oh thank God, thank you God,” Susan sobbed out, finding Sydnee’s arm in the pitch blackness. “Come on, come with me, Sydnee.”
“Momma, where’s my momma?” Sydnee sobbed, coughing as the smoke intensified.
“Outside. She’s outside,” Susan assured her friend.
Sydnee screamed when she tried to put weight onto her left leg. The force of the blast and the toppling of the trailer had thrown Sydnee against the wall, breaking her left tibia. Susan sobbed; knowing she was hurting her best friend tore at her heart, but she dragged the screaming, fighting girl to the front door of the trailer.
“Got you, we got you,” a male voice soothed, pulling Susan through the open door.
“Sydnee! No, no, I’m fine; get Sydnee!” Susan protested.
“We got her, the red head? We got her,” the deep voice soothed. “Come on, come on, lay down, that’s a girl.”
While Susan was sucking in precious oxygen, while Linda and Sydnee Thompson were being loaded into the ambulance, the fire fighters were trying to keep the trailers on Lot A, B, and C from burning. St. Elizabeth’s Public Utilities had sent out an emergency crew to shut off the gas to the lots. Performance 12 had also sent out a van and Summer Duhon was attempting to get interviews from fire fighters and the police.
“Hi-yee; I’m Summer Duhon,” the attractive blonde said to Susan as Susan lay on the gurney, waiting to be loaded onto the second ambulance.
“Hi,” Susan croaked. “I love you. My brother Samuel says you’re annoying as hell, but I think you’re great.”
“Aw well thank you,” Summer said. “Jeremiah Simon says you’re a hero. He says you saved two people tonight.”
“No. You know who’s a real hero? My Uncle Danny,” Susan said as the gurney was being raised. “My mother dropped me and Samuel off at, at, oh my God! Our, our trailer! It’s ruined!”
While Ulysses Lee, ER nurse at St. Elizabeth Parish Trauma Center was cleaning Susan’s feet of glass and clam shell fragments, Brenda Jo Broussard settled onto her seat of the large Greyhound bus. She had first thought to head to Houston, Texas, a city large enough to get lost in. But then remembered a promise her mother had made to her, just before Deborah loaded her things into her car and disappeared.
“One day? One day you and me, just us girls; we’ll take a drive out to Colorado. Benhurst, Colorado and we’ll do some snow skiing. Just you and me,” Deborah had promised.
“Ticket to where?” the smiling woman behind the counter of the DeGarde Inn had asked, fingers poised above the computer’s keyboard.
“Benhurst. It’s in Colorado,” Brenda had said. “No, don’t ask me to spell it.”
Rumbling west, the bus pulled Brenda Jo Broussard away from DeGarde, away from Hell. While Brenda slipped into a troubled sleep, Susan slept fitfully in a small room just past the Emergency Room of St. Elizabeth Parish Trauma Center.
“Hi-yee,” Summer Duhon smiled as Susan groggily came to.
“Hi, you, you’re Summer Duhon,” Susan said, looking around at the small room.
“Uh huh,” Summer agreed. “Listen, I’m preparing to do a follow-up from the studio. Right before you were taken here, you were telling me about your Uncle Danny.”
“Huh?” Susan asked.
“I said you were a hero and you said your Uncle Danny was the real hero,” Summer reminded Susan.
“Huh? Oh, oh yeah,” Susan said, wincing in pain as she tried to use her heels to push herself upright.
“So, before I go on air, I just wanted to get the whole story,” Summer said.
“My Uncle Danny? See, my mom had me and Samuel; he’s my twin brother and one day, she just dropped us off at Uncle Danny’s trailer, said she’d be right back. Well, that was fifteen years ago,” Susan said.
Susan’s eyes filled with tears as she relived the horrors of a few hours ago. Her home, the home she and Samuel and Uncle Danny shared…something had blown up and now their home was broken.
“She’d be right back,” Summer prompted.
“Our home,” Susan sobbed. “Something blew up and our home…”
Summer kept her cell phone recording as the brave young woman mourned the loss of her home. Even if it were repaired, she’d never feel completely safe in her home ever again.
After ten minutes, Summer had the full story. Uncle Danny had, without reservation or anger had taken on the role of full-time parent. He had raised his niece and nephew as his own, had shouldered the cost and responsibility for Susan and Samuel.
Right now? They, Samuel and Uncle Danny and Miss Rose and Daisy? They’re in Norwill, Tennessee; Samuel’s been offered a full scholarship he’s super genius smart and Uncle Danny wanted to make sure it’s a good place for Samuel, see? Even though we’re almost nineteen? He’s still looking out for us; he’s a hero,” Susan declared.
“Sounds like a good role model,” Summer said.
“Sounds like a great role model,” Susan said forcefully. “And even if I gave him a million dollars a day for the rest of my life? I’d never be able to repay him for all he’s done for me, for us.”
“Bye-yee,” Summer said when Ulysses ordered the reporter out.
“Bye-yee,” Susan smiled as the attractive young reporter left.
“Oh God, don’t start that ‘Hi-yee’ and ‘Bye-yee’ stuff,” the stout nurse smiled. “Makes me want to shoot my TV whenever she’s on.”
Upstairs in the same hospital, Linda Thompson was in a semi-private room when she learned what had happened. Through bleary eyes, she watched the Performance 12 News broadcast on her neighbor’s television, heard Susan Gerrard’s glowing description of her Uncle Danny.
“This brave eighteen year old student of Cabrini High School pulled two neighbors from a burning trailer,” Summer Duhon said while images of the fire fighters trying to douse the flames played on the screen behind her. “But Susan Gerrard doesn’t see herself as a hero. Susan Gerrard says the real hero in the family is her Uncle Danny.”
“Susan Ger…that, that’s my trailer!” Linda said, sitting up and focusing on the image of her trailer, engulfed in flames.
“Welcome back. Here on planet Earth, we had a fire,” her neighbor snapped. “God, woman, just how much did you drink tonight?”
“Not enough,” Linda said, now remembering she’d seen her husband, her dead husband earlier that night.
Sydnee had been sick, too sick to eat the Campbell’s Vegetarian Vegetable soup. Because of the recent bout of flu going around, they’d been extremely short-handed at the Elgee Walmart and Linda had been exhausted when she’d dragged herself into the trailer.
After her third Nulough’s vodka and seven-up, after checking on the sleeping Sydnee, Linda had fixed her fourth drink when suddenly, a loud boom had tossed her around in the kitchen. She had slammed into a wall then slid to the floor. And Ralph was there, smiling his happy, goofy smile. She had hated him, resented him, but, God bless the man, he was always so damned happy to see her, so fucking damned happy to see her and their three brats.
“Ralph, I, I’m so sorry,” Linda sobbed out as Performance 12 switched over to the Weather report.
“Yeah, well, Ralph says time for you to go to sleep,” the neighbor snapped. “Ralph says you need to sleep it off, hear?”
Linda had been released from the hospital and was given temporary housing at the DeGarde Inn; Young Insurance was picking up half of the costs and a generous outpouring of support from the local community was paying the rest. Sydnee and Susan were in the hospital; their flu had worsened and both were in danger of dehydration.
“Well, that’s one way to get the latest and greatest IPhone,” Danny Gerrard smirked, sitting in a chair when Susan woke from yet another fevered sleep.
“Huh? Hi Uncle Danny,” Susan asked, smiling at the sight of her uncle.
“Uh huh, someone stepped on it, got her blood all over the screen, which of course, she cracked it when she stepped on it,” Uncle Danny said.
“Aw!” Susan whined. “My phone? It’s ruined?”
“And, Sweetheart, I saw that interview,” Uncle Danny said, eyes filling with tears. “If I gave you a million dollars a day for the rest of my life, I could never repay you the joy and the love you’ve given to me; you and your brother. So, uh, why don’t we just call it even, hear?”
“Okay,” Susan whisperd
Miss Rose bought Susan a brand new cell phone to replace the damaged one. And, insisted, demanded, ordered Danny to move into their house; the trailer was damaged from the blast and further damaged by the hundreds of gallons of water the fire fighters pumped onto it, trying to keep it from burning.
While Susan was moving into her ‘new sister’s’ room, while Daisy was thrilling at having a new sister, Brenda Jo was standing in the lobby of First National Bank of Benhurst. A local Save-Well Department Store had sold her some new clothing and a rolling suitcase that now held her backpack, duffel bag and Raggedy Ann doll. Her old cell phone had been ‘misplaced’ in a Greyhound bus station in April Falls, Kansas. Brenda Jo did not know if anyone had survived the blast, did not know if anyone was looking for her but did not want them to have her cell phone to trace back to her.
Brenda Jo knew she could not deposit all eighty seven thousand dollars the duffel bag contained. Her Raggedy Ann doll had an additional four thousand seven hundred and forty three dollars secreted within it.
“Next!” a handsome young man called out and Brenda Jo wheeled up to his window.
“Need open me a bank account yeah,” Brenda Jo said.
“Yes ma’am,” the young man smiled uncertainly; to him, the cute young lady sounded mentally challenged, special.
Brenda Jo decided nine hundred dollars would do to start. She also requested a large safe-deposit box.
“So, where do you dance at?” the young man asked as he tapped rapidly on his keyboard.
“Huh?” Brenda Jo asked.
“Nine hundred, in cash? AN out of state ID? No local address? Dancer!” the young man said, counting the crumpled dollars she’d handed to him.
“Um, was at that Sugar Shack,” Brenda Jo said, naming a Gentlemen’s Club from back home. “Where the best one ’round here?”
“Club Landslide, without a doubt,” the young man said.
“Perfect,” Brenda Jo thought. “Dancing would give me a reason to have all that cash.”
David Penny didn’t even look at the beautiful brunette’s application. He let her sit and watch a few dancers then told her to be back the next day at two o’clock and be prepared to move quickly.
“By the way? Brenda uh, Broussard? What’s your dancer’s name?” David asked, finally pulling his eyes from her impressive chest to her eyes.
“Joee,” Brenda Jo said. “Joee Neaux. N e a u x.”
“Like it. Don’t ask me why. I just like it,” he smiled.
He did notice that Brenda Jo, Joee did not return his smile. He did notice, for the millisecond that he’d looked at her eyes, there had been no life in them.
The local Save-well sold Brenda Jo some camisole tops and matching G-string panties. The shoe Department had some four inch heels; she bought a pair of sandals and a pair of pumps.
“Yes, Allison, I know, you want those boots. You’re not getting those boots. No Allison, I don’t care it had the matching jacket,” a mother fussed at her sullen teenaged daughter. “No sixteen year old girl needs thigh high suede boots.”
“Man, don’t mean interrupt no, but where them boots?” Brenda JO asked.
“Leather West, right there on forty nine,” the mother said, pointing in the general direction of the store.
“It’s a kit; you make them yourself,” the daughter pouted. “It would be so cool.”
Leather west had two kits left and Brenda Jo was thrilled that the black suede and the red leather thigh high boot kits were in her size so bought both kits. There was also a black suede jacket kit and a red leather bomber jacket kit in her size. She bought matching black suede material and red leather material and some iron on Velcro to fashion micro miniskirts.
The Home Comfort Inn was home for now; Brenda Jo figured once she’d established herself as a dancer, she’d have enough money to rent an apartment without raising suspicion. Most young women were not carrying around thousands of dollars in various denominations. But, after a few days, she’d have enough in her new bank account to legitimately rent an apartment, rent some furniture, buy some pots and pans and have a kitchen to cook herself a meal in.
The television played a music station; there was a satellite feed that had different genres available. Sitting cross legged on the bed, Brenda Jo worked on her led leather thigh high boots.
“Man, tired all these drunks,” Brenda Jo said, switching from ‘Top-40 Country’ to ‘Classic Rock.’
As Brenda Jo labored, Sydnee and her mother shopped at Babbage’s Department Store in Bender, Louisiana. Dan and Jenna Bancroft had given the mother and daughter a five thousand dollar gift card to replace the clothing they’d lost in the fire. Linda’s hands shook horribly as she assisted Sydnee in trying on a pair of jeans; Sydnee’s cast went from knee to foot.
“God damn I want a fucking drink,” Linda thought as Sydnee nodded with satisfaction at her reflection.
Cabrini High School had given Susan permission to wear slippers; her feet were bandaged from the numerous cuts she’d received as she ran through glass and clam shells. Miss Rose had bought Susan a pair of bunny slippers, and a pair of fuzzy sandals with ciss-cross straps. The fuzzy slippers were bad enough, but the fact that they were fluorescent pink really drew attention to Susan’s feet.
“I swear to God; I hear one more person whisper ‘hero,’ I’m going to scream,” Susan whispered as they stood in line to get their lunches.
“Hero,” Samuel whispered.
“Butt hole!” Susan said, slapping him on his shoulder.
“Hero,” Daisy whispered, then ducked behind Samuel.
“Hey!” Samuel laughed when Susan gave him a second slap.
“That’s for your girlfriend,” Susan explained.
“Cute slippers,” someone said.
“Thanks! Miss Rose got them for me,” Susan said, lifting up her foot to show off her bright pink fuzzy slippers.
“God, another stupid Student Assembly?” Daisy, Samuel, Susan and a few other students groaned as Father Brighton’s voice crackled over the intercom, announcing a Student assembly scheduled for two o’clock that afternoon.
“Oh, you never know,” Sister Andrea said, walking past. “This might be one of the smart assemblies.”
“Exponentially unlikely,” Samuel quipped and was rewarded with a smirk from the teacher.
“Samuel, I can carry my own tray,” Susan argued.
“Wow! I can too!” Samuel said, not relinquishing his hold on her tray.
While Susan, Daisy, and Samuel sat to eat their lunch, Sydnee drove to Clark’s Drive-In for lunch. Linda was in no shape to drive, could barely handle pulling cash out from her wallet to pay for the meal.
“Momma what you going do while I’m at school?” Sydnee asked, eyes focused on the buttocks of a cute blonde that skated around, gathering trays from cars.
“Father Brighton said I can sit in the gym, wait for you,” Linda said, cursing her writhing nerves.
There was a Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store where the old Early’s Grocery Store used to be. It would take all of five minutes to drive there from Clark’s, five minutes to run in and buy herself a fifth of Nulough’s Vodka. But Linda wouldn’t do it. Linda wouldn’t give in to the temptation.
“Ralph, I’m trying. God knows I’m trying,” Linda thought as their food arrived. “Ralph, please help me.”
“Momma, you okay?” Sydnee asked, seeing the tears trickling down her mother’s face.
“God damn it no, no I’m not,” Linda sobbed out. “Sydnee, I’m an alcoholic.”
“Momma, I know that,” Sydnee said.
“You, you do? You know, you knew that?” Linda asked, shocked.
She’s always believed she’d hidden her drinking so well. Whenever Sydnee was around, Linda would only have one, sometimes two drinks. No more than two drinks, though.
When they arrived at the school, Sydnee used her crutches to hobble to the fourth period class. Linda went to the school office.
“Hi, um, Miss Thompson, right?” the school secretary smiled a warm, welcoming smile. “And how is Sydnee doing? Oh, you must have been terrified!”
“I need help; I’m an alcoholic. Is the school nurse in?” Linda cut off the young woman’s happy prattling.
“My name is Morgan Wolfe and I’m an alcoholic,” Morgan said, losing the happy smile. “Miss Thompson, sit down; I’ll get my sponsor over here, here, here’s a piece of candy; the sugar helps.”
“You, you’re not an alcoholic,” Linda accused.
“Seven years four months and six days, but who’s counting?” Morgan smiled. “Miss Jamie? Hey, I got a fresh one…yes ma’am, God put her right in front of me…oh shut up. Yes, I know, God always knows when I need someone to work with.”
“My douchebag boyfriend decided to come out of the closet; of course, he waits until we sign a one-year lease on a Camelot Apartment before letting me know,” Morgan smiled. “Miss Jamie’s bringing by a Big Book; I gave my last one away to this girl. Of course, haven’t seen her since but hey…”
“You, you really are? You really are an alcoholic?” Linda asked, looking at the attractive young, well-dressed, smiling woman.
“Yes ma’am, I really am,” Morgan said.
“But, but, you don’t look like…” Linda protested.
“Like I sucked a lot of cock for a few drinks? Or some cocaine, or some weed? Don’t look like I did some shoplifting to get some stuff to hock for a few lines? That I slept behind World Famous Barbecue’s dumpster because my momma kicked me out of her house?” Morgan supplied.
Morgan put the telephone on auto-attendant and got Linda a cup of coffee. Linda was using both hands to drink the coffee when Jamie Baggett entered the school office, beatific smile on her face.
“Hi, I’m Jamie. Oh you poor dear; Morgan’s making you drink the school coffee. Don’t worry; I’m making the coffee tonight at the Willingness Is The Key Group.
“What you don’t drink, we can paint the walls with,” Morgan quipped.
“This is our Big Book,” Jamie said, pulling a dark blue paperback book from her voluminous purse. “Don’t worry if you can’t make heads or tails out of any of it. Just keep trying and it’ll all make sense soon enough.”
“You’re not an alcoholic too, are you?” Linda asked, looking at the attractive older woman.
“Yes and thank God I am,” Jamie laughed, placing the book on Linda’s lap.
“Is she?” Linda asked, pointing toward Morgan.
“Yes ma’am, she is too,” Jamie said.
Linda looked at the two women. Tears came to her eyes; they were smiling, they were well-dressed, they seemed so comfortable, at ease in their own skin. Linda knew, she knew, she would never ever look as happy, as content as either one of these two women; it was hopeless. She was hopeless.
Linda almost screamed when a loud buzzer was heard. A gentle pat on her shoulder seemed to calm her down.
“Fifth period’s starting. But it’ll be cut short because of the assembly,” Morgan said. “There’ll be another buzzer when that happens.”
“Oh, oh, I need, I’m supposed be there for that,” Linda said.
“Don’t worry. You’ll hear the buzzer,” Morgan assured her.
While Sydnee hobbled to her next class; Daisy carrying her books, while Linda listened to Jamie Baggett talking about her own drinking history, Brenda Jo Finished assembling her outfits for the night. She wondered why she did not feel nervous about parading around, displaying her nude body to a bunch of men.
“After them?” Brenda Jo said, thinking of Peter, Paul and Bobby Broussard. “Ain’t nothing I can be scared of?”
While Brenda Jo prepared to leave her motel room, Linda Thompson sat in the school office of Cabrini High School. At this very moment, Linda felt overwhelmed. Beaten, broken, and overwhelmed.
“I’m at the DeGarde Inn, Room um, room, oh shit! I, I don’t remember what room number we are,” Linda burst into tears as the buzzer sounded for the assembly.
“Don’t worry; we’ll find it,” Jamie assured the woman, giving her a quick hug.
“They’re waiting for you,” Morgan gently reminded Linda as they could hear students laughing, squealing, complaining just outside of the office.
“I, yeah, yeah, they, they’re waiting for me,” Linda said, getting to shaky legs.
As Linda made her way to the gymnasium, Susan attempted to bolt from the gymnasium. She was poised to sit down when she happened to see Uncle Danny and Miss Rose standing with Father Brighton. There was a man in an official looking uniform on the other side of Father Brighton and two very handsome young men in firefighting uniforms standing with a few of the teachers, Miss Linda and Sydnee. The Performance 12 News camera was right there, and there was Summer Duhon, smiling brightly at her.
“Aw crap, aw crap, let me out of here,” Susan said, having a pretty good idea of what was about to happen.
“Susan! Stop!” Daisy ordered, gripping Susan fiercely.
“No, Daisy, I don’t want…” Susan wailed.
“And it ain’t about you,” Daisy snapped. “It’s about some people that want to say thank you. You can’t deny them the right to say thank you.”
“I hate you,” Susan snarled.
“And I hate you too,” Daisy smiled. “It’s horrible; having a sister and a best friend living in my room. I hate it. I just hate it.”
“Oh…shut up,” Susan snapped, allowing Daisy to guide her to a bleacher seat.
“How you think Sammy would look in one of them firemen’s uniforms?” Daisy whispered, her excitement apparent.
“Stupid,” Susan snapped.
“I bet he’d look so yummy,” Daisy gushed.
“He’d look stupid,” Susan snapped as Father Brighton got everyone’s attention.
After some speeches by Father Brighton and Captain Richard Richards, Susan was asked to come forward. Head hanging low, blushing hotly as her peers applauded her, Susan shuffled to where Uncle Danny, Miss Rose, Miss Linda and Sydnee stood.
“But I don’t want this,” Susan wailed hugging her Uncle Danny for protection. “Uncle Danny, I don’t want none of this.”
“No ma’am, I suppose you don’t,” Captain Richards agreed. “Hell. None of my men or the two women just joined our firehouse do it for glory.”
“We do it because people need us to do it,” Jeremiah Simon said.
The Performance 12 cameraman was a seasoned pro and managed to catch the moment Susan Gerrard and Jeremiah Simon made eye contact. The reaction was instantaneous and unmistakable. Two souls had found one another.
“I uh, I was the one helped you get Sydnee out of the trailer, Jeremiah said.
“Thank you; I think you pulled me out too,” Susan said. “I really don’t remember much of…”
“Tried to,” Jeremiah said. “You was too worried about Sydnee.”
“Bye-yee,” Summer Duhon signed off as the cameraman focused on Susan Gerrard, Medal of Bravery gangling around her neck looking deeply into the eyes of Jeremiah Simon.
While Susan, Uncle Danny, Miss Rose and Miss Linda, Samuel, Daisy, Sydnee and Jeremiah Simon crowded around a table at Manny’s Mexican restaurant, eating a Hero’s meal, Joee Neaux strolled out onto the stage. Brenda Jo was a good girl that had been in a horrible situation. Brenda Jo had been powerless to do anything about her situation.
Joee Neaux was a slut. Joee Neaux had no fear, had no compassion; Joee Neaux had no masters.
“You want to fuck me?” Joee cooed in the ear of one man that was seated at the lip of the stage.
“Aw fuck yeah,” the man agreed as she knelt in front of him, legs spread.
When he fed a twenty dollar bill into her garter, Joee ripped the pale pink camisole top away, displaying her heavy breasts and rock hard nipples.
“You want to fuck my titties, wrap my big old titties around your big fat cock,” Joee hinted at the next man, heavy breasts gangling as she posed on hands and knees.
Two hundred and twenty three dollars later, a nude Joee strolled confidently from the stage, her torn and tattered clothing dangling from her small hand. She dropped the ruined camisole top and matching panties into a garbage can and opened her locker.
“Fuck!” David Penny said, watching the new girl’s exit.
Sticking his head into the back, David told Joee she had one in D4 waiting for a private lap dance. Smiling a sassy little smile, Joee pulled a ‘Club Landslide’ tee shirt over her nude body and strolled to D4 Avalanche Room.
While Joee Neaux was grinding her nude ass against the pathetic little lump in the whiskey soaked man’s jeans, Linda was climbing the walls of the motel room. Sydnee was seated at the small table, working on the mountain of homework she’d accumulated in her absence.
“Aieegh!” Linda screeched when a knock sounded at the door.
“Hey, have a great meeting,” Sydnee smiled up at her mom. “Mom? I, I’m proud of you.”
Linda nodded her head as another tear started. Grabbing her purse, she swung open the door to see a smiling, happy Morgan Wolfe waiting for her.
“I uh, listen, I, I only have about twenty bucks; how much does AA cost?” Linda asked, closing the door behind her.
“AA is free,” Morgan smiled.
“It, it’s FREE?” Linda gasped. “Then, why aren’t there more people doing it?”
“Because the cost is so high,” Morgan smiled as they strolled through the lobby.
“What? You just said it’s free,” Linda snapped.
“Uh huh. But to qualify? You have to lose everything,” Morgan said, opening the door of her car.
“I haven’t lost everything,” Linda said as they pulled out of the parking lot.
“No?” Morgan asked, putting on her turn signal.
“No. I threw it away,” Linda said. “Just rolled down the window and threw it all out.”
“Yep. You qualify,” Morgan smiled.
Knowing that this was Linda’s first meeting, the topic was the first step. Linda listened, stunned as person after person talked about her, and talked about her feelings, her failures. How? How did all these people know all of her thoughts and fears?
“And I got down on my knees and begged Miss Jamie to be my sponsor,” Morgan shared. “If she’d told me to go stand on my head in the corner and sing the Star Spangled Banner, I was willing to do it; Jesus! I just did not want to feel that shitty anymore.”
“Miss Morgan,” Linda said, kneeling on the hard tile floor. “Will you be my sponsor? You want me to stand on my head…”
“Linda, get up,” Morgan smiled. “Yes, I am your sponsor. All I want you to do is be willing. Just be willing.”
Sydnee looked up from the television show she was watching. She smiled; her mother had a sort of glow about her. Linda smiled and dug into her bottomless purse.
“Look! Look! I got a desire chip,” Linda announced, showing Sydnee a white poker chip.
“Wat’s this mean?” Sydnee asked, looking at the ‘AA’ letters printed on the chip.
“Means I got a desire to stop drinking and stay sober,” Linda proudly said.
“I’m proud of you, Mom,” Sydnee said, hugging her mother.
While Linda showered and got ready for bed, Uncle Danny and Jeremiah sat at the Dead End, having a couple of beers and a man to man talk. Jeremiah did not pull any punches; he was a few days away from being twenty nine years old and Susan was an eighteen year old high school student.
“You look, you can still kind of see the holes from all my dumb ass piercings,” Jeremiah said. “Yeah, I was one of them kids, pants hanging down, rings in my ears, my eyebrows, just this total ‘fuck you’ attitude.”
“What happened?” Danny asked, regarding Jeremiah’s eyes, not his ears or eyebrows.
“Grew up. Looked around and realized no one gave a shit how much I was ruining my own life,” Jeremiah admitted. “Pulled my pants up, pulled out the metal and joined the Air Force.”
Air Force? Them pussies?” Danny scoffed. “God damn! Wasn’t man enough to be a Marine?”
“No, no I wasn’t. But, damned sure wasn’t faggot enough to be Navy,” Jeremiah said.
“Well, yeah, at least that,” Danny agreed.
“Anyway, did my four, got out, did a little college then my uncle Stu got killed in the line of duty,” Jeremiah said. “Remember when that soap place caught fire?”
“Yeah, yeah, remember that. Some dumb ass kid all pissed off about child support or something,” Uncle Danny said.
“Next day I went in and signed on to be a fire fighter,” Jeremiah said.
“My daugh…my niece is only eighteen years old,” Danny reminded Jeremiah. “And right now? Her classes come first. She’s a Straight-A student.”
“I promise you I will not stand in her way,” Jeremiah said, waving the waitress over. “Miss? I’d love a cup of coffee; y’all got coffee here?”
“We grind our own,” the waitress said, dangling her synthetic breasts millimeters from his face.
“Danny? I mean, Mr. Gerrard? Coffee?” Jeremiah asked, ignoring the magnificent mammary in his face.
“Two pieces of that mint brownie pie and put it on my bill,” Danny agreed.
“Aw now, come on! I’m the one invited you out,” Jeremiah protested.
While Jeremiah and Danny were arguing over the bill, Joee slipped her high heeled pumps off of her tired feet. She pulled the ‘Club Landslide tee shirt on over her nude body and slipped her feet into her flip flops.
“So, be back tomorrow, eight o’clock,” David Penny said as Joee emptied her locker into her large purse.
“Okay,” Joee said.
“So, uh, how’d you like it?” David pressed, a little perturbed by her uncaring stance.
Joee looked at him, brown eyes flat, lifeless. She gave a small shrug.
“‘Bout what I thought it would be. Don’t know why y’all call it dancing. Not much dancing to it,” Joee shrugged again and strolled out of the rear of the club.
“Damn, that it one cold bitch,” another girl said, exiting the club.
“Yeah, hey, long as the customers like her,” David said and walked to his office.
In her motel room, Joee counted her money. She’d made eleven hundred and nine dollars; not bad for five hours of work. She determined she’d pull enough cash from her safety deposit box to make it twenty one hundred and deposit that into her account.
Stretching out on the mattress, Joee wondered what Joee would watch on television. She knew Brenda Jo had liked a few reality shows, but Brenda Jo didn’t get many opportunities to watch television, unless she wanted to watch whatever stupid sporting event her brothers and her dad were watching.
“I think Joee would like…hmm,” Joee said and selected ‘Shaving’ from the selection of pornographic movies.
“Know what?” Joee said, watching as a blonde woman shaved another blonde with a suspiciously dark brown bush. “Joee’s a blonde.”
Three weeks after landing in Benhurst, Colorado, Joee Neaux had enough money in her savings account and in her checking account to justify renting an apartment. Three city blocks south of Club Landslide was the Winley Building. The building had definitely seen better days; the entire neighborhood had seen better days. But the interior was secured by a doorman and a security system. Joee Neaux rented Apartment 404 and went to O’Neil’s Furniture to furnish her two bedroom apartment. The two salesmen ignored Joee; she was dressed in halter top and Daisy Duke Cutoffs with cheap flip flops on her bare feet.
“Hi, ma’am? Help you?” a short, pudgy woman asked, smiling a friendly smile.
Twenty eight thousand dollars later, Joee left the furniture store and walked to the office of Walter Penny, Attorney At Law and asked him about legally changing her name; she never ever wanted to be associated with Brenda Jo, Deborah, Bobby or Peter and Paul Broussard ever again. She did not know if there were any warrants out for her, or if anyone was looking for her.
“Wait, you, you wouldn’t happen be any relation to David Penny?” Joee asked, again seeing the man’s name on his desk.
“Cousin,” Walter said, not looking up from his monitor. “Well, Ms. Neaux, looks like Ms. Broussard’s in the clear. No outstanding warrants, no traffic tickets or fines.”
Checking her mailbox, Joee had some mail addressed to the previous tenant, some sales flyers and nothing else. The doorman was an ancient man that politely greeted her and pressed the button to summon the elevator for her. While they waited, she did let Wade know she was expecting some furniture to be delivered on Thursday and he promised to take care of the delivery.
While Brenda Jo Broussard completely disappeared, Susan, Samuel, Daisy and Sydnee scrambled toward their graduations. Samuel and Daisy teased Susan about her relationship with Jeremiah; Susan noticed Sydnee was oddly quiet.
“What’s wrong?” Susan asked in a rare moment when it was just Sydnee and Susan.
“Huh? Nothing. Nothing. Leg itches; damned cast is ’bout drive me crazy,” Sydnee insisted.
“Sydnee,” Susan said.
“I, God damn it, Susan, I hate Jeremiah, I hate him, I wish I’d died in that fire, I hate seeing you with him,” Sydnee wailed.
“Hate, Sydnee how, how can you hate him. And don’t even joke about whishing you’d died; I would have died with you,” Susan sobbed, holding the hysterically crying Sydnee.
“Because God damn it, I, I love you; I been in love with you for forever,” Sydnee confessed.
“I know that,” Susan said softly. “Sydnee, I know that. And you know I just ain’t into that. You know that.”
“Yeah? But I can dream, can’t I?” Sydnee admitted.
While Sydnee and Susan were coming to a truce of sorts, Linda was learning the ropes as a new sales associate at Babbage’s Department Store.
She’d been an employee of the Elgee Walmart for eleven years and all she’d gotten from her coworkers and her manager was grief over missing a few days of work. Yet, Babbage’s Department Store had given her a five thousand dollar gift card to buy herself and her daughter some clothes and undergarments and shoes to replace what they’d lost. They didn’t know her or her daughter but had stepped up to help her.
“That’s the kind of place I want to work for,” Linda told her sponsor.
“Then go apply for a job there,” Morgan said. “And tell them that. Tell them what you just told me.”
The Human Resources office was located next to the gift-wrap center on the second floor. The woman smiled an encouraging smile as Linda filled out the 3X5 card. As the woman explained, if they considered her, they would get all the other pertinent information during the interview process.
“Okay, Ms. Thompson…Thompson…Thompson. Are you the woman, are you Sydnee’s mother?” the woman asked.
“Yes I am,” Linda said.
“My daughter goes to school with her!” the woman said, smiling. “Oh! I tell you, my heart, I just about bust with pride when Mr. Dan and Miss Jenna gave y’all that gift card. We, we couldn’t work for a better place, I tell you.”
“That, that’s why I want to work here,” Linda agreed. “I mean, where I work? All I got out of them was complaining about needing a couple days off.”
“Wait here,” the woman said and hustled to an elevator Linda had not seen earlier.
Three minutes later, the woman reappeared and waved Linda to the elevator. Linda entered the small box and the woman pushed the number ‘3’ on the pad.
“I’m taking you to Mr. Dan’s office right now,” the woman gushed.
“What? I, I’m not dressed for…” Linda gasped.
Dressed for an interview or not, Dan hired Linda on the spot. He waved away her thanks and said the gift card had been his wife’s suggestion, not his. He nodded when Linda asked if she could give her current employer two weeks’ notice.
“There’s my newest employee,” Dan smiled as he strolled around the ground floor of the store. “Hello Ms. Thompson, how are you?”
While Linda and her new boss went over the log-in and log-out procedures, the men from O’Neil’s Furniture helped Joee set up her new furniture. Her outfit of crop top and extremely short shorts had fostered their enthusiastic assistance. Her tip of fifty dollars apiece for the three men assured should Joee ever buy anything else from O’Neil’s, they would make her delivery a priority.
Wade, the doorman waved away Joee’s thanks and reminded her that, as a doorman, directing deliveries to the freight elevator was simply part of his job. He did graciously accept her twenty dollar tip.
“Hi; they all finished?” the tenant in Apartment 407 asked when Joee returned to her apartment.
Apartment 407 was directly across the wide hall from her door. Joee smiled at the handsome man in his snug pullover and distressed jeans. He wore his hair in a slightly unkempt style and Ray-Ban knock-off sunglasses obscured his eyes.
“Yeah; sorry if they was noisy,” Joee smiled, subconsciously thrusting her chest out.
“Hmm? No, no, they were quick,” the young man smiled.
“Hi. I’m Joee,” Joee said.
“Oh? Joey?” the young man frowned. “I could have sworn Wade said a young woman was moving in?”
“What? I don’t look like a woman?” Joee smiled.
“I, um, I’m sure you do,” the young man said, clearly uncomfortable.
“Ooooh,” Joee said slowly, recognition dawning. “Been blind all your life?”
“Hmm, not yet,” he smiled. “Hi, I’m Jim. Jim Roberts.”
“Sup Jim Bob?” Joee said. “I’m Joee Neaux.”
“Aw God! Jim Bob? Don’t call me that!” he laughed. “Do you have any idea how white trash redneck that makes me sound?”
“Why I’m going call you that,” she smiled. “Got to get ready for work so, bye Jim Bob.”
“Bye Joee,” he said, extending his white cane and tapping toward the elevator. “Need to get down to the Burns & Burns for my grocery order.”
“Oh! Do, do you need help?” she asked.
“Hmm? No, no, this is just a few odds and ends,” he said. “When I do the big run on my monthly stuff my sister helps me.”
As Joee threw her outfits into a canvas duffel bag, including shoes, she thought of her neighbor in Apartment #407. If he came into Club Landslide, how would she let him know she was there? How would she let him know she was attractive, that she was fully nude, large breasts dangling millimeters from his hungry face?
She put a little spritz of perfume on. Looking at her outfits again, Joee felt them; they were soft, slinky. She brushed her hair and teased it, causing her blonde tresses to fan out around her pretty face.
Even as Joee strutted and pranced around on the stage of the nightclub, even as she smiled and giggled and cooed, enticing the men to part with more of their money, Joee did not realize, Jim Roberts was the first real human contact she’d made in years.
It was a good night; it was a really good night. She parked in her reserved parking space in front of the Winley Building and nodded tiredly to Tim, the night-time doorman. He was polite, courteous as he pressed the elevator button. When she stepped into the box, Tim wished her a good night.
Tiredly, she stepped into her shower and washed away the sweat and the cheap aftershave. Stepping from the shower, she quickly dried her hair then crawled into bed, nude.
“Off tomorrow,” she reminded herself.
Waking at eleven, Joee made herself a late breakfast/early lunch. Then she drove to her bank, made her deposit, including eight hundred dollars from her slowly dwindling duffel bag.
Wade greeted her when she carried in the three bags from the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store. She was polite but did not divulge much information about herself, her job, her point of origin as they waited for the elevator.
After putting her groceries away, Joee walked across the hall to Jim’s apartment.
“Who is it?” a voice called out.
“It’s Joee, your neighbor,” Joee said, wondering why he didn’t just look through the peephole.
“Oh, my God! You’re an idiot,” Joee then said, realizing how foolish that thought had been.
“Hey, what’s up?” Jim asked, opening the door.
“Hey, Jim Bob, you ever had smothered steak?” Joee asked.
“I told my sister you called me that,” he laughed happily. “Know what she said? Said it’s a lot better than some of the things you could have called me.”
“So that a ‘Yes’ on coming over for smothered steak?” Joee smiled.
“Yeah, yes, what time?” Jim asked.
“Hmm, it’s ’bout three now; ’bout six thirty?” Joee guessed.
“Is there anything I can bring?” Jim asked.
“You want beer better bring it; I ain’t got none,” Joee said.
“Not really much of a drinker,” Jim admitted. “Blind is bad enough. Blind drunk is really bad.”
“Good, then we having iced tea,” Joee said.
He was punctual, knocking on her door at six thirty on the dot. Joee still peeked through the peephole though. She smiled, thinking again of her earlier thought about his not using the peephole.
“Wow, that, that smells good; what’d you say it was?” Jim asked, slowly entering her apartment, sweeping his cane in a slow half-circle.
“Smothered steak; you take you some steak and smother it in a whole bunch of onion and bell pepper and you make you a gravy go with it,” Joee said. “Just waiting on rice get done.”
She served the meal with some sugar peas and biscuits. Because of his blindness, Joee had cut up his steak into bite sized pieces.
“So, I’m a dancer over at Club Landslide,” Joee supplied as he chewed each bite slowly, methodically.
“No kidding?” Jim said, washing down the overcooked meat with a mouthful of far too sweet iced tea.
“And I’m thinking, now that Jim Bob come in here, how he would know I’m here?” Joee said. “And I’m wondering, how he would know I’m naked?”
“Oh? They, uh, Club Landslide has full nudity?” Jim asked, a light blush creeping up.
“Hmm? They all do, right?” Joee asked.
“I, uh, wouldn’t know,” Jim admitted. “My brother in law, Tony, he took me to The Gold Nugget for my birthday and got me a lap dance, but really? It was just way too loud and she had on this really plastic smelling perfume and it didn’t really do anything for me.”
“Oh? You know what kind she had?” Joee asked, fearful that Jim might find her perfume to be offensive.
“No, should have asked her,” Jim said. “But kind of figured it wouldn’t matter. No girl’s ever going let me smell her.”
“Can smell me you want to,” Joee offered, coming around the table.
“You smell good; you smell just like smothered steak,” Jim smiled.
“Hmm, yeah, yeah, probably can’t smell my perfume,” Joee mused, giving her hands a sniff.
She went and fetched the bottle out of her bedroom. Jim gave the bottle a light sniff and shrugged his shoulders.
“Yeah, I guess it’s nice,” he said. “My sister uses this musk stuff? That smells pretty good. And other times? She wears this um, Elizabeth Taylor made it, um, oh shoot…white diamond. White diamond.”
“White diamond? You like that?” Joee said, determining to pick up a bottle the next time she went shopping.
“God no! Stuff smells plastic to me. The musk, see, musk? That smells natural, you know, like it belongs? This? Yeah, I guess if you picked a bunch of flowers, this would smell natural,” Jim said, indicating her perfume bottle.
“Okay, so, perfume, musk. How else I would let you know I’m really pretty?” Joee asked, vowing to find out from Jim’s sister what musk perfume she wore.
“Why would you want…” Jim asked, laughing nervously.
“Because I’m really pretty,” Joee husked, softly brushing his lips with hers.
“And you really handsome,” she whispered, giving his lips a second light brush.
Her breasts fascinated him. Softly, she whispered into his ear what he needed to do to give her pleasure. Her lessons were punctuated with passionate kisses.
His skin was pale. His chest had a few strands of hair and Joee ran her fingertips over the sprigs. When she bent her head and took his left nipple into her mouth, he stiffened, then groaned.
“I uh, I, I need to go,” he grunted, flailing to find his shirt and his cane and his bearing.
“No. No, it’s perfectly natural,” Joee hastened to assure him.
Some soft kisses convinced him to stay. Again, Joee let him fondle her large breasts. Then she had him touch her bare belly down to the snap on her very short and very tight shorts.
“See how wet I am?” she whispered hotly into his ear. “That’s ’cause of you. You the one making me all wet.”
Again, Joee talked Jim through pleasuring her. She told him how to use his fingers on her very wet slit.
“And that, that my clitty yeah,” Joee grunted, her Cajun accent becoming thicker and thicker as her pleasure mounted. “And you, augh! Augh God yeah!”
She led him from the couch to her bedroom. Helping him out of his blue jeans and faded briefs, Joee shrugged at the sight of his five inch erection. His was not the largest cock she’d ever seen, but it wasn’t the smallest one either.
“And it ain’t the size of the pencil no,” she thought. “It all in how they sign they name.”
She made him take off his sunglasses. The sight of his mottled and ghostly white eyes did somewhat dampen the mood, so Joee focused her attention on the ceiling.
“Now, going teach you how to eat pussy,” Joee said, spreading her legs wide.
He learned how to give slow, deliberate licks to her inner labia, how to open her with his fingers and lap at her essences. He learned how to suck on her clitoris while using his fingers on her.
After he’d tongued her to two orgasms, Joee had him lie back on her bed. Gripping his cock in her hand, Joee was rewarded with a geyser of semen directly onto her surprised face.
Joee did not like the taste of semen. Brenda Jo had tasted it twice and had not liked the taste either, but had swallowed it. Swallowing it was less messy than spitting it out. And spitting it out still left the taste in her mouth anyway.
“Now this, this is how Joee likes it,” Joee said, straddling his hips after she used her mouth to revive his erection.
“We, shouldn’t we use condoms?” Jim asked, gasping and grunting.
“Mm hmm,” Joee purred. “Feel. You got one on.”
“I, how, how’d you do that?” Jim asked, feeling the condom on his hard cock.
“Put it on when you wasn’t looking,” Joee giggled.
She rode him to orgasm, then rolled off and pulled him on top of her. Again, Joee whispered instructions into his ear and screamed out when he managed to pound her to orgasm. She looked away from his hideous eyes and encouraged him to fuck her, fuck her hard, fuck her harder.
In the morning, Joee made him some French toast for breakfast. She fried up several strips of bacon, setting aside half of the bacon for her lunch. Then, with soft kisses, she kicked him out.
She woke up at noon, made herself a BLT sandwich for lunch, and then cleaned up her apartment. At three o’clock, David Penny sent her a text, asking if she could come in for the early shift.
“Be right there,” Joee agreed.
“Wonder what it would be like, fucking in these?” Joee asked, putting the red leather thigh high boots into her duffel bag.
“Know how we can find out,” Joee thought, smiling at the door of Apartment #407.
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
Two months after the fire destroyed the trailer park, Rose Richards and Danny Gerrard sent Mindy and George Melancon a christening gift for Michael George Melancon.
Four months after the fire, Rose and Danny sobbed as Daisy and Samuel loaded their suitcases into the trunk of Daisy’s Lexus. Rose sobbed as she hugged her daughter, her baby girl. Uncle Danny let more than a few tears slide down his face as he hugged his favorite nephew. Jeremiah shook Samuel’s hand, then gave him a bro hug. Susan and Daisy clung to one another, sobbing over the enormity of it all; life was changing. With a final wave, Samuel and Daisy drove from DeGarde, Louisiana to Myndee, Arkansas where they would be freshmen at Myndee University.
Six months after the fire, Rose Richards and Danny Gerrard received a wedding invitation to the wedding of Robin Smith to Randy Thomas. Susan reminded Uncle Danny, Earline Thomas had been the long-legged brunette that had lived in Lot B. Randy Thomas had been her baby brother.
Susan was very surprised she’d also received an invitation; she’d hardly known Earline and had only met Randy twice. Of course, she’d waved in friendly greeting whenever they’d seen one another.
The wedding was held at St. Elizabeth By The Lake in Baylor Lake, Louisiana. Rose and Danny sat together, holding hands. On the other side of Danny, Susan and Jeremiah sat, quietly whispering about how beautiful the church was, how beautiful the flowers were.
The flower girl was adorable. The ring bearer caused titters as he raced to the altar, passing the too-slow flower girl in his haste.
“Huh!” Susan said as Randy’s sister Earline and the Maid Of Honor walked up the aisle together.
“Oh!” she said in understanding when Earline took her place next to a very nervous Randy, acting as his best woman.
Three more couples made their way up to line up with Randy and Cheryl Savoie, Robin’s maid of honor. Then the music swelled and a beaming Robin Smith, holding onto the arm of her barely composed father made her way to the altar.
“And who gives this woman to be wed?” Father David Jameson asked.
“Her mo… Her mo… Her mm…” Hank tried to say but started bawling.
Randy stepped down from the altar and wrapped his arms around Hank Smith. The two men held onto each other and sobbed together.
Jeremiah and Danny shared a smile as they too wiped at their eyes.
“Must be dusty in here,” Jeremiah whispered over Susan’s head.
“Yeah, that’s got to be it,” Danny agreed.
“Her mother and I give my sugar doodle, my sugar, my oh!” Hank managed to sob out.
“I promise, sir, I, I will take care of your sugar doodle,” Randy sobbed. “I promise I will.”
“I know, I know you will,” Hank agreed, sobbing new tears.
“You going cry like that when I get married?” Susan teased her Uncle Danny.
“Sshhee-it! Be so glad get rid of you,” Danny teased.
“Danny Gerrard!” Rose gasped, slapping his arm.
“Sugar doodle, huh?” Jeremiah teased Susan.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare,” Susan snapped.
“He promised. He promised he wouldn’t cry,” Robin laughed, her own tears streaming.
“I’m sorry, Sugar Doodle. It’s just, it’s just that everything’s changing,” Hank sobbed, giving his daughter a tight embrace.
At the reception, Hank received his fair share of teasing. No one brought up the fact that the groom’s side of the aisle had less than twenty people scattered throughout while the bride’s side had nearly a hundred attendees. No one brought up the fact that the groom had cried just as much as the father of the bride had.
“Yes, yes, after the explosion destroyed all our trailers, Mr. Hank’s been letting Randy and me stay in the mother-in-law suite over his garage,” Earline told Susan when Susan asked her. “But where’d y’all go?”
“Miss Rose; she’s my Uncle Danny’s girlfriend, she’s my best friend’s mom,” Susan explained.
“You uh, you been staying at my cry-baby brother in law’s house?” Daphne, Robin’s aunt asked as she joined Earline in line for the free bar.
“Mm hmm,” Earline agreed. “Thank God too. He hadn’t? I don’t know what me and Randy would have done.”
“I uh, I, there’s I’ve got extra room at my condo,” the hotly blushing woman suggested.
“Oh yeah?” Earline asked, looking at the handsome older woman.
While Rose and Susan fought valiantly to catch the bridal bouquet, Linda helped Morgan set up for the Willingness Is the Key AA Meeting. Linda’s main job was to make the coffee; everyone complained that Morgan’s coffee was too weak and Jamie’s coffee was far too strong.
“Oh, thank God,” Daisy Upchurch said, seeing Linda preparing the coffee.
“Shut it, Daisy U,” Morgan said. “Hey, you give out the chips tonight? I got Hailey doing How It works and Danny’s doing The Promises…”
“Yeah,” Daisy smiled. “Who knows? Some cute guy might be getting a chip tonight.””
“How’s Mindy and Bobby doing?” Linda asked.
“Mindy’s swearing the eleventh grade is the hardest grade in the world; they really expect her to do all that homework? And Bobby’s a holy terror. And his favorite word is ‘No,'” Daisy laughed.
“Yeah, they really do expect her to do all that homework,” Linda nodded. “Went through all that with Sydnee. And now? College?”
The meeting got underway. Daisy waited, the chip turntable in front of her.
“And we work on a chip system here,” Daisy said when it was time to hand out the chips.
“No, we don’t. We give out the chips. We work on the Steps and the Traditions,” someone muttered.
“You know what I mean,” Daisy snapped.
No one got up to claim a Desire chip, although everyone looked at Carter and at Jenny Rose. No one got up to claim a one month, or two month, or three month chip.
“Anyone got six months?” Daisy asked.
“I do,” Linda whooped.
“How’d you do it?” Daisy asked, giving the woman a hug.
“Like the name of the group says, willingness is the key,” Linda said, feeling the tears threatening to spill.
While Linda was helping Morgan clean up after the meeting, while Danny and Jeremiah were having a man to man talk in a corner of the church hall, Joee was grinding her naked ass against some guy from April Falls, Kansas, not listening while he bitched about his wife. She tossed her newly dyed orange-red hair back, allowing her tresses to cascade over his face and shoulders.
While the music boomed and thudded, Joee thought of her relationship with Jim Roberts. At first, she’d made certain concessions; he was blind. She’d known he was blind when they’d begun their relationship.
“He sure does like to use that when it’s convenient, huh?” Joee thought.
His cereal bowl and spoon were still in the sink. He’d eaten breakfast at six thirty. She’d crawled into bed at two thirty in the morning. Four hours later, he was slamming, clattering, dropping things in the kitchen. So she got up and shut the door so she could sleep.
The loud bang of him running face first into the shut bedroom door jolted her wide awake. And, he got mad at her; she shouldn’t have shut the door, even if he was stomping around, making an ungodly racket. She shouldn’t have closed the door.
“Why’s your bowl still in the sink?” she asked him as she angrily fixed lunch.
“Oh. I uh, I didn’t know if the dishes in the dishwasher were clean or dirty,” he said.
“Then open the fucking thing and feel them,” Joee had spat. “And, they clean? Then put them up, huh? You know where everything goes, Jim Bob. Put it up.”
But the bowl and spoon were still in the sink, even though the dishes in the dishwasher were still dirty. There was no excuse for the bowl and spoon to still be in the sink.
If Joee didn’t wash the clothes, Jim would just fill the laundry hamper until the lid wouldn’t close, then he would pile the dirty clothes around the hamper.
“No, Jim, that’s bull shit,” Joee thought. “Yeah, you can’t tell your yellow pull over from your red striped pullover, but you know jeans. Jeans can all be washed together. And towels and underwear and socks can all go together.”
“Bet you’d be one hell of a fuck,” the customer panted, edging closer and closer to his climax.
“Bet I would be,” Joee agreed, smiling as she dangled her breasts in his face.
It was so hard to get in the mood for a good fucking after working all night, not getting a good enough sleep, then having to clean up after him. To inspire herself, Joee had taken to looking at pornography. Joee liked pornography. Joee had liked pornography from her inception in the Benhurst Home Comfort Inn.
PAD Productions did some of the best porn out there. The PhreekAfterDark catalogue was full and varied. Joeee especially liked their bisexual clips; male-male-female really got her motor running.
Joee had paid one of the girls to do a one minute clip of her dancing, using her cell phone. Then she’d used her cell phone to do a head shot, a full nude front and a full nude rear pose. The last photo was of her, nude except for thigh high red leather boots. Then she’d sent it all to PAD Productions in Manor Hills, Nevada.
Joee had almost five hundred thousand dollars. When her bank account had exceeded fifty thousand dollars, one of the tellers suggested she speak with an investments counselor.
Tiffany Puellar, her investments counselor had done very well for Joee.
The duffel bag in her safe-deposit box had been disposed of long ago. Now, she had several gold and silver coins in the safe-deposit box. There was a braille watch at the Cash For Gold pawn shop; she’d seen it when she’d bought her Rolex watch, along with several silver coins.
Joee planned to give the braille watch to Jim. Then, she would tell him she was leaving. Not just leaving him, leaving Colorado. Leaving for Manor Hills, Nevada and going to PAD Productions. But he could have the apartment. He could have all the furniture. His sister and Tony now lived in Apartment #407; they could watch over him when she left.
Other than her clothing and shoes and jewelry, the only thing Joee planned to take was her Raggedy Ann doll. After all, the doll was still stuffed with several dollar bills.
With a sassy smile, Joee sent the customer out of the D3 room with a large wet stain in his trousers. She waved to the DJ to let him know she was available to go onto the stage again and the man nodded his head.
“Jim Bob, I’m sorry,” Joee thought as the DJ introduced her. “Thought I loved you, but…”
“Shit, I ain’t even sure I know what love is,” Joee winked and blew a kiss to the man that waved a dollar bill in her direction.
The End.
..**..
**Author’s note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you sincerely for reading my stories.
I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I likewise thank those that rate my words, those that ‘Favorite’ my works.
Lynelle Turner, the dealer that attempts to muscle Bobby Broussard is a minor character introduced in ‘Ugly Uglier Tings’ in the Group Sex category. His occupation and influence are furthered in ‘Nudge’ in the Loving Wives category.
Farley, the enforcer that Lynelle Turner sent to persuade Bobby and Peter and Paul is a minor character first introduced in the ‘Men in Blue’ series in the Lesbian Sex category. He is also briefly mentioned in ‘Uncapped’ in the Interracial Love category. His affinity for flashy rings is described in the MIB tales.
Jeremiah Simon, the firefighter that pulls Susan from the smoldering trailer is briefly mentioned in ‘Oddball, Ch. 07a’ in the First Time Category.
Summer Duhon, the Performance 12 reporter is a primary character from ‘On Channel 12’ in the Loving Wives category.
Ulysses Lee, the nurse that runs Summer Duhon out of Susan’s room is a primary character from ‘Q without U’ in the Loving Wives category.
Club Landslide, Brenda Jo/Joee’s place of employment is introduced in ‘Let Myself Believe’ in the Loving Wives category.
Linda’s AA sponsor Morgan Wolfe is a minor character in ‘Popcorn, extra butter’ in the Mature category.
Jamie Baggett, Morgan’s AA sponsor is first introduced in the ‘The Broussard Sisters’ series in the Group Sex category.
The fire that burned A & A Soaps to the ground is mentioned in ‘Nudge’ in the Loving Wives category, as well as ‘Multiple Units #107’ in the Incest/Taboo category. The actual origins of the blaze is detailed in ‘Hard Lessons Learned’ in the Loving Wives category.
Daisy Upchurch is the primary character of ‘Vodka: Cinnamon’ in the Mature category. Mindy is her daughter, and at the end of that story, Daisy is pregnant with her son Bobby.
I do apologize that it has taken me so long to post this tale. Reading and re-reading the ‘Five Trailers’ series, I saw I had really painted myself into a corner. Lots A through D were pinnacles of excellence and anything I posted after those was sure to be a let-down. Then, listening to a few Concrete Blonde tunes gave me the inspiration for Brenda Jo/Joee’s character. That vacant emptiness, that search for happiness, that desire for contact with another human being, and when they don’t live up to Joee’s expectations…
And, Microwave Spoil-Check instead of ‘Microsoft Spell Check’ in the Disclaimers was intentional. Some people just got have them something bitch about. So, there you go.
Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day.