RE: Trailer Trash 56, 56 pt 2 (Patreon)

A frazzled and somewhat heavyset red-haired woman trudged up the porch steps to her trailer park trailer and fumbled in confusion with the doorknob of a locked door. Mrs. Moore wasn’t used to their mobile home being locked—she had almost always been home, and so locking up everything was rarely necessary. The key she’d prepared this morning was rediscovered in her coat pocket, she went through the unpracticed motions of unlocking her own front door, and then finally opened it and bustled inside.

Their home was empty and felt cold and unfamiliar.

As if attempting to ward off ill omens or bad luck, she hurried to turn on all of the lights, and their television set was flicked on with an angry press of the remote to create some noise. She hurried down the hallway to the master bedroom as if being chased, and with frantic motions her coat and work apron and then dress shirt were discarded and one of her normal dingy oversized shirts was pulled on. Since starting to exercise and eat better she had lost eighteen pounds, but weight loss plateaued now that her pregnancy was starting its second trimester. As a result her body felt altogether like a stranger to her, nothing she wore was as she was accustomed to, and it only magnified the eerie wrongness she just couldn’t shake.

When she returned down the hallway and checked the fridge out of habit, Shannon looked at the unappetizing contents for several long seconds with a mixture of hunger and nausea before closing the door again. She reopened the door—and stared again at tupperware containers and the assortment of wrapped dishes. Reaching in and rummaging them around didn’t reveal anything she particularly wanted to eat, and with a growing sense of disappointment and unease she slowly closed the door again and retreated to the safety and comfort of the sofa.

She wanted to see Tabitha, but even the presence of her husband would do right now. Someone, anyone. Sudden and alarming loneliness struck like a soundless bolt of lightning. Experiencing her first day at work had been agonizing, the hours on the clock had felt like entire days, she longed for somebody to vent to about it, while also at the same time she didn’t want to talk or think about it at all. Ever. There was simply a need to mentally and emotionally decompress after the incredibly stressful work shift, but she found herself still too wound up about it all to actually relax back into her old stay-at-home routine.

Commercials played without her seeing them, and with the remote clutched in a white-knuckled grip, the channel changed from Cuba Gooding Junior enthusiastically endorsing Pepsi One to an aircraft cabin of skydivers onward to the proceedings of reality courtroom show Judge Judy. Frustrated, she thumbed the button again to reveal a computer animated Pillsbury doughboy tottering in front of a bag of bread on a kitchen counter, and with a scowl Shannon switched stations again and again and again, watching smiling people and products pass by one after another in a faded haze until she finally settled on one of the daytime soaps she recognized.

But, she couldn’t focus her attention on the rudimentary plot of Guiding Light today at all. Nor was she really even recalling the events of her shift at Food Lion. She just felt muddle-headed and anxious. Her feet ached from standing all day, so she didn’t try to get up and reach their handset phone.

Who would I even talk to? Mrs. Moore let out a bitter laugh. What would I even say? Who would CARE?

Working as a grocery cashier was an everyday ordinary easy job, wouldn’t Laurie sigh with exasperation if she tried to call her up and complain? If she bothered Alan at work, what would he have to say about anything she’d just gone through? He had been working full time as a general contractor for years, for over a decade. How could he treat her seriously if she tried to talk to him about her time at some cushy indoor minimum wage job? They had argued about it enough already, and she knew what he would say—he would tell her to just quit if she didn’t like it.

But, I can’t, Shannon Moore felt wet lines roll down her face as she quietly cried. I can’t, I can’t. I CAN’T give up. Not with just this. Not like this.

“Ungphhh—” She chuffed out a sob as she smeared the back of her hand against her face.

Twisting from where she sat on the couch cushions, Mrs. Moore stared through her tears at the handset dock for the phone, because she wanted more than anything just to call the Macintires, to simply hear her daughter’s voice. But she couldn’t—she didn’t dare to call her. Tabitha went back to school today, she surely had her own worries and troubles to deal with in spades. What would Tabitha think of her, if she couldn’t even manage to handle this?

*     *     *

“Well, how was it?!” Mrs. Macintire asked, tossing her purse aside on the kitchen table in her haste to check on Tabitha and Hannah. “How was going back to school?!”

“It was fine! Everything was fine,” Tabitha reported with a wry smile from the living room sofa. “No complaints.”

“Did you have Elena in any of your classes?” Mrs. Macintire interrogated. “Or Alicia? Any of your friends? Was anyone mean to you? Did anyone say anything?!”

“I um,” Tabitha chuckled, leaning back from where she’d been watching Hannah’s Gameboy Color screen. “I got to see them before classes started, and then again at lunch? Oh—Bobby is in my first period one, uh. Personal Fitness. I maybe made some new friends? A few girls. They were nice-ish?”

“Thank God,” Sandra dropped heavily onto the couch beside them and started wrestling off her shoes. “I was so worried. All day I was thinking about you!”

“I was, too!” Hannah chirped, not looking up from her Pokemon battle.

“You were not, you brat,” Mrs. Macintire griped, trying to reach over to muss her daughter’s hair.

“I was so!” Hannah argued with a laugh, dodging back to press herself against Tabitha. “I didn’t even want her to go back to school. She coulda just stayed at home! I wouldn’t go to school if I didn’t have to.”

“Going back to school is something I needed to do,” Tabitha sighed. “Needed to—well—get back on the horse. So that I don’t worry about what I’m missing out on. All the school things. Getting to know people, socializing. Learning facts and stuff.”

“Facts and stuff,” Hannah repeated with a giggle.

“Too true, too true,” Mrs. Macintire agreed. “Hard to flirt with boys when she’s stuck here by herself all day.”

“Tabitha doesn’t flirt with boys,” Hannah huffed. “No way.”

“Ewww, BOYS,” Tabitha teased. “Gross, right?”

“Gross,” Hannah nodded. “Super gross.”

“Stuck here by herself, whaddya mean stuck here by herself?!” Officer Macintire groused, his voice carrying all the way over from the bedroom. “What am I, chopped liver?!”

“I kindly asked Tabitha not to flirt with you, honey,” Sandra yelled back, rolling her eyes before lowering her voice to confide with the girls upon the couch. “Because man oh man, trust me you do not even want to get him started.”

“I heard that!” Her husband protested.

“He wore a shirt today, at least,” Tabitha gave the woman a wincing smile.

“All by himself?!” Mrs. Macintire’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise.

“Yeah,” Hannah nodded. “He walked out to the bus stop today.”

“All by himself?” Mrs. Macintire’s facade dropped that time and she was speaking with genuine concern.

“I’m not crippled!” The voice from across the house was full of indignation.

“No, no—I walked with him, we both went out to pick up Hannah,” Tabitha assured her. “We were both bundled up! He took it slow. Everything was fine.”

“Hmm,” Mrs. Macintire hummed. “Hmmmmm.”

“Hmmmm,” Hannah imitated. “Does this mean um, that he’s basically all better, now?”

“Well,” Mrs. Macintire sighed but wore a contented smile. “We’ll see, kiddo. We’ll see.”

“Because…” Hannah put on a mighty pout, “He wouldn’t even pick me up and carry me!”

“Oh my goodness,” Mrs. Macintire shook her head. “He wouldn’t even carry you?!”

“He wouldn’t,” Hannah said. “He just made excuses.”

“How about, once the doctor says I’m cleared for physical activity again, I can carry you?” Tabitha proposed. “I’ll be able to give you piggyback rides. Or, I could even show up at the bus stop with your new bike! That way, you could just ride it home.”

“Oh, please,” Mrs. Macintire laughed. “God forbid my little girl would have to walk fifty or sixty feet down the street, on her own two legs.”

“How much longer for your doctor’s appointament?” Hannah asked.

“Appointment, and, just a few more days,” Tabitha said. “Then, hopefully the cast comes off and I can start running in the mornings again. I haven’t played tag with my cousins for months and months, already! Or exercised much at all. I’m getting all fat and flabby just sitting around with nothing to do.”

“You’re not fat,” Hannah snorted. “And—you’ve gotta play with me, not your cousins. They’re boys.”

“They’re my boys,” Tabitha chided her. “I missed them. Oh! And, I did want to visit in on them and see how their Pokemon are coming along. And maybe borrow one of their beach towels.”

“Beach towels?” Mrs. Macintire asked.

“Yeah—we need to bring in individual towels at school, for the locker room,” Tabitha explained. “I know my cousins each got their own different Ninja Turtles towels, that they never ever wound up even using. I think they all just got chucked in storage somewhere.”

“I have a cool towel you can use!” Hannah volunteered. “It’s Princess Jasmine from Aladdin. Way better than stupid Ninja Turtles. Mom, where did you put my—”

“Hey hey hey, we can buy Tabitha her own brand new beach towel, how about that?” Sandra’s eyes lit up. “We can go shopping!”

“Noooo, no no no, no we can’t!” Tabitha covered her face in embarrassment. “We were just shopping again yesterday! Hannah don’t give her any more excuses to go shopping!”

“What do you think, Hannah?” Mrs. Macintire ignored Tabitha’s plight. “New beach towels, for sure. Bathing suits? Tabitha, come to think of it do you even have—”

“It’s January!”

“We should see if they have Pokemon ones,” Hannah suggested, not looking up from her game. “Towels. Like, Pikachu.”

“If she doesn’t wanna borrow a girly Aladdin one, we have our awesome Corona Extra one—” Officer Macintire offered from across the house. “Our big towel. Be way cooler with all the high school kids if—”

“Hon, I don’t think she should bring a towel with a beer brand on it to high school!” Mrs. Macintire hollered back. “Good grief, she’s fourteen!”

“No, I know, that’s exactly why all the other kids’ll think it’s so damned cool—”

“La la la can’t hear you, ‘cause we’re going shopping!” Mrs. Macintire rebutted. “What do you say, girls? Shopping, and then maybe McDonald’s to celebrate?!”

( Previous, 56 pt 1 | RE: Trailer Trash | Next, 56 pt Beach Towel )

/// Water unfroze finally! But, several water meters throughout the park blew out. Park guy hasn't come by to replace them all yet, but I did manage to get a single shower and refill several of my water jugs before the valves closed off again since there was some water pressure.

Each successive day that went by with me not having a real shower I was getting more and more mean and irritable! Also, flushing the toilet with snowmelt every other day is a huge hassle, and I just want regular running water again. In any case, I've had good heat this whole time, so it's still 10x better than last winter! 

These two small sections are more of the Mrs. Moore / Tabitha parallels and thematic contrasts I wanted to play with and not the MAIN thrust of chap 56. Just definitely a subplot I wanted to keep building up. May be frustrating to read things play out like this, but IMO the best way to give Mrs. Moore her own growth arc is to not have Tabitha basically doing all the heavy lifting with guidance and knowledge. Shannon needs to struggle through some things on her own first before she (and the Moore family in general) can move forward!

Didn't dare to have the contrast sections here focus on Mr. Moore, as I feel like readers need a break from him and/or won't have patience with him slowly working through things right now.