Chapter 1

trailer rentals larger $75 mid size $60 small $50
John Boyd 28yrs old
Alice Boyd current owner of the Gatehouse
Edwardo world famous catfish chef (according to mom)
Joy and Jen wait staff for Alice Boyd’s catering

“So John, why do you want a job so far from people?” his mother Alice Boyd asked.

“To be honest, if I don’t get this job I will most likely be living on the streets of Jackson or some other town. I am honest about who I am, prison did that to me. I am a hard worker and being alone will be good after being locked up with so many hard cases. I probably shouldn’t be so honest, but I’d rather not lie just to have you take me on, and then have you fire me when I disappoint you,” I replied. “I have zero ambition. I just want to be left alone to work a little and keep learning about myself.

“Fair enough, I’ll show you around, and then see if you are still interested,” Alice suggested. “I know you grew up around this place, but it’s changed some since your uncle left.” Alice had been running the place since Keith Boyd disappeared seven years earlier. She had made, what she thought were improvements. I followed her back up the drive to a cluster of tightly packed tiny buildings and trailers.

“This place is called simply the campground,” she explained. “There are three travel trailers and five cabin tents. I’ll take care of renting them and arrange for any purchases you need to keep it going.”

She turned and walked back to toward the Gatehouse. “This is where you would live, if we decide it’s a good fit for us both.”

She pointed out the cooking appliances and the propane tanks. She also pointed out the hot water on demand system in the shower closet, and then the outside toilet. Since it was summer the outside flush toilet didn’t bother me. I had known that it was how Uncle Keith lived.

From the gate house we went to the large tent type building with the plastic frame. The tent covering was sagging here and there, but the most prominent thing about it was the advertising sings. They were part of the tent material itself. I knew about the building’s construction because I had helped erect the giant tinker toy.

Inside that giant advertising tent were many power tools, a large chest freezer, and a large refrigerator. The refrigerator explained Mom’s comment inside gate house.

“Don’t worry about the dorm refrigerator.” she had said.

When I finished the tour she asked, “So can you live here or not?”

“Just as long as you give me my own space,” I said.

“That was the idea of having you take over your Uncle Keith’s place,” she admitted. “I was going to hire someone this year anyway. If not you, someone else. It’s gotten to be too much for me.”

“I’ve been out a month mom. I have applied for every job I even had half a chance of landing. To be honest it’s this or living on the streets. So yes I want the job, and I will be a good employee.”

“Okay son, your old truck is parked out back of the circus tent. See what you need to get it started and we will do something to make it work. You can move into your Uncle Keith’s house today,” Alice suggested.

Mom drove me to an auto parts store just outside of Greenville Ms. There I bought a hundred dollar battery since my old one was at least six years old. However when I removed the old one I hooked it to one of Keith’s chargers. It took a while to figure out which one would work best there so many of them but I managed.

Only after I did all that, did I take a drive in my old pickup truck. It looked like hell but it ran. I drove the three miles to the public access boat launch ramp. I had promised mom I would start cat-fishing again.

Since I had other things to take care of first, I just marked my territory by take a whiz in the port-a-potty sitting in the parking lot. I returned to the campground first with a list of things mom expected me to do first.

My first afternoon began by carrying trash to the county dumpster park. It was still daylight when I finished with the trash duty. I returned to the Gatehouse for a frozen dinner. Instead I got surprised by one of mom’s famous wild boar with macaroni and cheese casseroles. Mom went heavy on the hot spices, but it was delicious.

“It’s just like old times. Your Uncle Keith loved this stuff. He also loved you and Gabby. He would be thrilled that you are taking over this place even if it’s only temporarily,” she said.

“I don’t know about that. He seemed pissed the last time I spoke to him. He also seemed to know what I was involved in. He offered to help me get out of it. I should have listened instead of blowing him off,” I admitted.

“He did know and understand a lot more than any of us thought,” mom said.

After supper I made a note to get a TV and have the Satellite system hooked up. I also had to have the Internet connection repaired or whatever it needed. With no entertainment available, I sat on the porch with a large glass of Sam’s cola and looked at the stars. Until I was tired enough to sleep.

It was actually still hard to sleep without the prison sounds in the background. It was just too quiet. There was the sound of a car or truck driving out at 6AM. Mom had warned me about the hunters and fishermen’s early morning departures. That morning they were either fishermen headed to the river, or guests headed home. Either way the noise was comforting.

I scrambled a couple of eggs with cheese, then toasted a hamburger roll and made a sandwich. The coffee I made was much better than the prison coffee. I took an hour break on the porch before I washed my own dishes. I walked up to the campground to see if there were any obvious signs of a vacancy.

I removed the burn phone from my pocket in order to call mom. She had offered to buy me a smart phone but I told her, “No thanks”. I just wanted to stick to business for a while. I wanted to do my parole time cut off as much as possible from the world’s temptations.

“Mom, was anyone supposed to check out today?” I asked.

“Hold on,” she said. I assumed she used the two minutes to check her files. “Yes, cabin number three. He drives a Gray Ford Suburban.”

“I heard a truck pull out at six and I don’t see the SUV. So I’ll knock then clean it up before I go fishing,” I said.

“That sounds fine,” she said. I could tell she wasn’t a bit interested in the day to day shit. With that in mind I rang off.

I checked closer, then I went to work cleaning the cabin. I put the trash bag outside, then swept and mopped the floors. Hell I even dusted the furniture.

Since I had been fishing with Keith, I had a pretty good idea of what to do. I carried a big stack of limb hooks and a short fiber glass pole with a much smaller hook. I remembered Uncle Keith fishing with bread dough balls so I carried a couple of slices of bread to try it as well.

I caught a couple of small pan fish. I had an old short piece of 2/6 in bed of the truck, so I used it to cut the two pan fish into bait. I got enough bait to set the six best positioned limb hooks. I paddled the kayak back up river a short distance and baited the six hooks, then headed home.

I circled around to the county Dumpster Dump to drop off the trash bag from cabin three. I was on the way home when I reported to mom that cabin three was vacant again.

“You need to plan to be at the campground tomorrow morning around ten. A couple named Rodriguez will be coming to check out the trailers. They want to spend the weekend somewhere near the river,” mom explained. “If they want to pay cash take it, but call me and tell me which trailer for sure.”

“Got it mom,” I said. “So what do I do with the cash?”

“Buy groceries, call it an advance,” she said.

I spent the afternoon working around the Circus tent. Uncle Keith wasn’t much of an organizer. I couldn’t even get finished before it was time to head back to the river. I did find the frozen bait from five years earlier. It was a frozen mess but I still chopped it up with a hatchet.

I checked the hooks before dark. Of the six hooks I managed to bait, I found only one had been disturbed. The bait was gone, but no catfish. I baited all the empty hooks with large chunks of still frozen fish. The bait chunks were falling apart but it was better than nothing.

I went home vowing to return tomorrow after my meeting with the potential guests. After a supper of left over Wild Boar casserole, I washed the dish. I had the last glass of Sam’s cola before going to the porch to watch the sky again.

I decided it was much better to have a view of the whole shy at once, than the small patch visible from my window in prison. I ran out of cola quickly. Earlier I had found the boxes of seven year old iced tea mix left behind by Uncle Keith. So when I ran out of cola, I mixed up a two litter bottle of it. At first it tasted awful, but after a couple of glasses it began to taste just okay.

Keith’s bed was a lot like my prison cot. It was narrow and almost too short but I managed it. I heard nothing before I fell asleep. I did hear a truck leave the campground early. I assumed it was either checking out or going fishing.

I drifted back to sleep for about half an hour then heard another truck drive out of the camp ground. Finally I climbed from the bed and went outside to urinate in the flush toilet. Since I had slipped on my jean first, I wasn’t nervous about anyone seeing me so early in the morning.

After my shower I placed my dirty clothes in the cloth laundry bag my mom had left for me. She left me a written instruction sheet on how to do laundry. I knew how, but it was her way of telling me I had to do my own laundry. It was cowardly but I got the message.

After breakfast I had two hours to kill before my appointment, but since I didn’t want to be late I put the bag of laundry into the back of my truck. I made plans for the day. It was meeting first, then check the hooks, then do the laundry, finally fillet the catfish and freeze them. If the early morning departures were check outs, I had to clean the two cabins.

Unlike my Uncle Keith, I couldn’t afford to hire locals to do the grunt work. I didn’t mind it so much because I didn’t want to build those stupid electric bikes. Kieth didn’t need to make a profit, but I did. My time was better spent working on the campground and fishing for Mom’s catering business. I was thinking about increasing the campground. I knew that it was landlocked but mom and dad owned the surrounding land. I hoped that I might work out a deal with them sometime soon.

The middle-aged couple arrived right at 10AM. “I don’t have a canned sales pitch so do you have any questions,” I asked.

“Do you have air conditioning,” the woman asked,

Typical papered bitch, I thought. But I said, “The trailers do absolutely. the cabins are more for the rough it crowd.”

“Could we take a look inside?” the man asked.

“Sure the big black one is $75 a night. The mid sized green one is $60 a night. The smallest one is $50 a night. All the campers have kitchenettes and air conditioners.”

“Is there a charge for parking our boat,” the guy asked.

“No but you do have to park it away from the trailer. That is so that others can get by easily. There is that large open space behind the cabins,” I explained.

“Okay we want the medium trailer for three nights,” the woman said.

“That will be $180 in advance,” I said very businesslike. The man opened his wallet and handed me two one hundred dollar bills. I gave him a twenty in change. He was lucky I had the twenty. It was part of the money mom had advanced me when she hired me.

As soon as they were settled in I headed to the river to check my hooks. I carried a small amount of fish bait left over from the night before. If catfish could smell, it should attract them from the next county.

I found that twelve of my thirty hooks showed some movement. There were eight catfish on the lines. Some were small but I had one monster. It had probably been over seven years since Uncle Keith had set a hook. In that time it didn’t appear anyone else had either.

The plan was to wash my clothes at moms house. It was her suggestion since my personal wash would be much more expensive than the sheets and towel from the campground.

The cabins required the guests to provide their own linens. The showers were communal. There was a bath house for men and one for women. The bathhouse had three shower stalls each. There were two toilets stalls in each of the bathhouses. The cabins had a bare minimum of services provided.

Anyway while I washed my clothes, Mom invited me in for a late lunch. I explained about the new trailer guests. I didn’t mention my concerns. I thought they might be picking up illegals down river and smuggling them into the country. I kept that to myself.

“Are you sure you don’t want the cash?” I asked.

“No, but keep me advised when you collect something. I need to know for our taxes,” mom explained. “I also need to know that you are getting all you have coming to you.”

“Right,” I said. “I appreciate the lunch, but I need to get back. The clothes should be through by now. I have to skin and fillet last nights catch.”

When I got back to the camp grounds I did the cleanup and carried the catfish into the circus tent. I put them in the refrigerator before I carried the trash to the dumpster dump.