Chapter 3

Sunny’s turn:

Pulling into an RV park in the southwest corner of Arkansas, I didn’t expect much, but was pleasantly surprised. Clean. Organized. I followed Carl into the office. Got called ‘Missus’, which I quickly denied.

“I’m staying at the hotel on the south edge of town,” I said.

“Oh, they’re pretty good,” the nice grandmotherly lady at the desk of the RV park said. “‘Fraid they passed their prime, though. Most businesses here have done that,” she continued.

To Carl she said, “Lot 18 A. Back against the back fence of the property. Less traffic. I kinda keep ‘em for the long term guests,” she said. “We get a certain amount of weekenders. Mostly fishermen...”

“I won’t be a problem,” Carl said. “Me ‘n’ Sunny have a job in the area. I’ll be there for a few weeks. Two months. Somewhere in there.”

“Well, if you wanna pay by the month, we offer a twenty percent discount...”

“Let’s do that,” Carl said.

So the guy thinks long-term. Nice to know. Data.

We get back in the truck, drive through the three streets of the little RV park, spot the slot he’s supposed to occupy. That entire row is empty except for one neat little trailer.

Fate often spins on a pivot of unusual configuration. This time it was a sign. “For sale. Inquire at the front office.” In lot 18B.

Parking and siting a travel trailer for long-term occupancy is a bit of an effort.

“If you give me a hand, I’ll buy dinner,” Carl says. I’m all about a free dinner, so what the hell, okay?

It took us half an hour to get him set in the spot, jacked up level and hooked up to the electrical and water – the incomes, and the sewage, the outgo. And then...

“Stop by the front office, Carl,” I said.

“Huh?”

“That trailer next to you, it’s for sale. If it’s a good deal, it’s a damn sight better than two months in a hotel room.”

“Right price an’ you’ll break even or better,” Carl said.

“That’s where I was heading, “ I said. “If it’s not trashed or smoked up...”

“Yep. Price is everything...”

“Price ain’t everything. I can’t live with the smell of cigarette smoke. I can do clutter and trash and such. That trailer? A day, max, and it’s spic and span. But if it belonged to smokers, there’s no way to get that stench out...”

So we stopped.

“Mister Benning,” the lady said. “Old retired guy. Lived here for the last six months. Had a boat. Loved his fishing. Heart attack.”

“Oh,” I said. “Life craps, sometimes.”

She smiled a wan smile. “He was a nice guy. Used to drop off a package of fish fillets from time to time...”

“Smoker?” I asked.

“Nope. Never saw that. Unusual. Most men that age, they’re smokers...”

“Can I see the trailer?”

“You’re interested?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I’m looking at options instead of staying at that hotel on the edge of town.”

“Which one?”

I named it.

“Oh, that place’s seen its better days,” the lady said.

“I haven’t been there yet. We came here first...”

“You’re not together?” she asked.

I glanced at Carl. Inscrutable expression on his face.

“Heavens, no,” I replied. “Co-workers.”

“We’re working on a new electrical substation,” Carl said.

“Ohhhh,” the lady uttered, “My bad...”

“Nah,” I said. “He’s the senior tech. I’m the junior. Tossed together by the fortunes of corporate America.”

She laughed. “That’s delightful, the way you said that! Carl, you take good care of her. She’s a jewel.”

I dunno if I want to be a jewel to Carl. I mean, the guy’s decent-looking. Interesting person, as evidenced by what I found out about his musical tastes, but still, a GUY. American guy. Who knows what manner of background and upbringing he might have?

“So what’s the deal on that trailer?”

“Mister Benning just wanted to fish and enjoy his retirement. Massive heart attack.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s not good...”

“Not in his case. His kids took the boat. Left the trailer here with the sign. Either we sell it here, or somebody tows it home. I don’t think they want it.”

“What’s the asking?”

“Ten K,” she said. “‘Tween you ‘n’ me, though, seventy-five hundred oughta make ‘em squeal.”

“Can you call ‘em and tell ‘em that?” I said.

“Uh, up front, if I sell it, I get five hundred bucks.”

I snickered. My Korean parents drilled into me the idea that what was offered first was NEVER the final price. “Offer ‘em sixty-five hundred. Cash. I’ll take care of all the other costs.”

“Hon,” the lady’s eyes brightened. “I’ll call ‘em this afternoon.”

I spent a night in a privately owned hotel. That’s not part of a national chain. I’ve learned (quickly) that some of those are ‘iffy’ at best. This one was on the high end of the scale. Nice clean room. I can stay here.

Next morning, Carl picks me up for a fast-food breakfast. We can do better than this. I need to do a bit of research. I mean, I like a McMuffin or a breakfast taco as much as anyone, but maybe just once or twice a week I wanna sit down and have people bring me a meal. I’m American enough to enjoy a grits and sausage and egg or a biscuits and gravy. Gotta find that.

Mid afternoon. We’re driving the local roads, looking at, as Carl says, ‘the lay of the land’, including the jobsite, which is, as expected, not too far out of town.

My phone rings. I answer.

“Mizz Kim,” the voice says. “This is Katrina at the trailer park. That trailer that you were asking about?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Lemme give you a phone number.”

“Lemme get something to write on.” I grabbed a scrap of paper and a pen from Carl’s console. “Go ahead.”

She read me off a phone number. “If you buy that trailer and keep it here, first month’s rent is free,” she said.

“Thank you. If I buy it, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you, dear. Have a good day.”

“Whazzat?” Carl asked.

“The number to follow up on that trailer,” I said.

“Oh, okay,” he replied.

“Lemme call ‘em.”

She’d directed me to a local attorney who seemed quite happy to deal with us.

“Didn’t think it’d sell. Older trailer, not so fancy...”

“They were asking ten K,” I said. “I’ve looked. I’ll do sixty-five hundred, cash, as is, where is.”

“Seven’s as low as I’m allowed to go.”

“I’m good with that, but I need to see more of the trailer than the outside.”

“Katrina at the office has the keys; get ‘em from her and call me back if you’re still interested.”

I told Carl, “He’ll go seven thousand.”

“Sight unseen?” he asked.

“Subject to inspection. Let’s go look at it. Key’s at the front desk.”

Nice trailer. NOT a smoker. Matter of fact, neutral odor. I inspected every corner, helped along by Carl. He has some experience with these things.

I’m starting to like the guy. Get over yourself, Sunny. It’s a fellow worker.

“But he’s a NICE worker...” my inner voice says. My not quite inner voice says, “Imagine the look on your mother’s face if you brought home a white guy.”

And I’m watching this evil, patriarchal American male slide on his back under that trailer to check out the underpinnings. For free. Not because I whined and asked him, but...

“Don’t want to find things held together with duct tape and old coathangers,” he said. Then, “There’s a flashlight in the pocket on the driver’s door, could you...”

Damned right I could. “Hang on.”

I retrieved it, slapped it into his waiting hand. He slid back under the trailer. “Okay,” he said. “Not what I thought...”

“Problem?”

“No. Thought we had a pet living under here.”

“A pet?”

“Sometimes mice and other little animals like to find a cubbyhole to crib up in. This ain’t that.”

Gravel was agitated as he slid back out. He stood up, started dusting himself off. I brushed his back down, ridding him of a few stray twigs.

“What do you think?”

“I think that this thing’ll pay for itself if that’s what you want. ‘Course, it doesn’t come with maid service and fresh linens and little bars of soap and free shampoo...”

“And the next door neighbor’s kinda shady,” I snarked.

“You never know. When he sees what moved in next to ‘im, he might haul ass.”

“Aside from the neighborhood,” he laughed, “seven thousand? I’d jump on it. Turn around and list it for eleven thousand when we finish, take ten, make profit.”

“You’ve got a mercenary streak, sir,” I said.

“Uh, I LIKE money...”

“Idiocracy, “ I laughed.

“Got the DVD,” he returned.

Called the dude back, told him I wanted it. Asked, “How do you want the money?”

“Electronic. I’ll email you the details. Then you come by my office...”

“Got it,” I said. Forty minutes later my bank account was seven K lighter and we were pulling into a parking slot in front of a law office. That got me paperwork to take to the DMV to get the title transferred and a new license plate in my name.

It might not be much of a home, but for the first time in my life I’m a home-owner.

“Let’s go to MY house,” I told Carl. “I need to turn the A/C on.”

“Well, we need to go to the jobsite in the morning,” Carl said. “Work intrudes...”

“We can go grocery shopping this afternoon,” I said. “I need everything.”

“I need perishables,” he replied. “So...”

“And I need to go check out of that hotel.”

“Okay.”

So, zig-zag back and forth. As much as I hate to do it, a WalMart visit handled the groceries and new bed linens for me.

Carl drove us back to the RV park and I offloaded my stuff into MY own little abode.

“You’re just about giddy,” he said.