Chapter 2: Moving In

The service car driver popped open the doors of the big Lincoln that Kaitlyn and I had ridden in for the six hours from the Atlanta airport to our cousin's rural town in northern Georgia. He looked at the trailer home that stood before us and shook his head before asking my sister "Are you sure that you're to be dropped here? I mean, it's the right address, but it don't look like a place kids like you would be used to."

Kaitlyn looked at the trailer with a disgusted expression and turned to me. I'm her brother Jamie, and I was eleven then. Both of us were dressed up in expensive clothes, were wearing our brand new IPods and cell phones, and I had my gameBoy in one hand. We were used to neatness, cleanliness, and luxury. We were also used to secret sex and surreptitious role-play games, but in the clean and luxurious

setting of our large home back in Memphis.

So my expression back to my sister conveyed my own disgust as we looked at the mobile home before us. It was one of the older rounded, silver-chrome 1960's-style trailers. It was beginning to rust. It sat all by itself in a huge field of weeds. In every direction all that could be seen was grass, hills, and cows separated by fences. This particular trailer sat on about ten acres of muddy weeds and grass surrounded by a barb-wire fence. A few cows stood in the shade of the only other building on the site, which was a leaning and sorry old barn. At the end of the dirt driveway, where the Lincoln that had transported us here so incongruously gleamed, was an ancient John Deere tractor that had once been green, and a 1970's-vintage Ford Falcon that was more rusted than either the trailer or the tractor.

Just as my sister saw that I agreed with her disgust, the screen door on end of the trailer facing us smacked open and slapped against the metal siding of the mobile. Three people piled out... Cousin Martha, our second cousin, but our Mom's first cousin, who had wide-open arms as she rushed to greet me and Kaitlyn. Behind her followed her two daughters, Tanya and Lanya.

Cousin Martha grabbed Kaitlyn up in both arms and hugged her tightly. She then stepped back so that her daughters could do likewise. As she did this, she stepped around so that her back was to me. The three girls all greeted my sister profusely, but completely ignored me. I cleared my throat. My adult cousin turned around as if noticing me for the first time. The smile drained from her face.

"Oh, you're Jamie, the younger kid, right?" she asked me. I nodded yes, a bit intimidated with her. Martha is about five-six, and she's a true blonde, but she carries a bit of extra pudge on her voluptuous frame. She has large round breasts and a full ass that appealed to my young-boy senses despite the fact that she was glossy with sweat, had her hair up in a straggly ponytail, and wore no makeup to complement the smudged tight white t-shirt she was wearing over her too-tight denim cutoffs and flip-flop sandals.

"Okay, Jamie, you're eleven, right?" she asked, still looking down at my blonde-haired, blue-eyed little frame dressed up in a Polo pullover and Tommy shorts. I nodded again.

"Fine, meet your cousins Tanya and Lanya. Tanya's 13, like Kaitlyn your sister, and Lanya's your age, Jamie. Eleven."

I sheepishly met the eyes of both girls as they waved quickly to me before returning to their animated conversation with Kaitlyn. I saw that my sister was beginning to pen up a bit to these two girls, as girls sometimes do. Even though our newly-met cousins were carbon-copies of their mother... a little bit trampy-looking, blondes, with messily pinned-up hair over sweating faces and wearing cheap shorts, shirts and flip-flops.