"Pentecostal,” I said.
"Morons,” Ms. Garner said.
"Did they live in here with a herd of cows?" Leonard asked.
"You're a smart one, ain't you?" Ms. Garner said.
"My dearest friends call me the Smartest Nigger in the World.”
"Yeah. Well, I believe it. What these Christian high-hairs had was a goddamn Chihuahua. One of them little ugly Mexican dogs looks like a shaved rat with a disease. Goddamned lab experiment material is what they are.
"Three men and three women, two kids. I charged 'em twenty dollars a day, there being so many. And they had a whole slew of Bibles and tracts and religious crap. Stupid morons.”
"Calm down, Mom,” Tim said. ”You're gonna strain yourself.”
"Don't talk to me like I'm constipated,” she said.
"Whatever,” Tim said, and shrugged his shoulders at us.
"Kids gave the dog a bath,” she said,” and get this, they put the goddamn rat in the oven to dry. Turned on the oven and put the rat in there. He got dried up all right. Little turd caught on fire, starting barking — screaming, really. A dog gets hurt enough, it can scream. Heard him all the way over in my trailer. They let him out of the oven just before he was a casserole. He run all over the place. Caught them Bibles and tracts on fire, then that crap caught the wall on fire. I threw them Christians out on their holy butts. They had to tote what was left of that mutt off in a smokin' pail. Looked kind of pathetic, even if it was a Chihuahua. Nothing but that old blackened tail stickin' out of the top of that bucket, like a burned-down lantern wick.”
"Yeeech,” Leonard said. “I'm just glad it wasn't a real dog.”
"Anyway, those irresponsibles burned up their dog and trashed my trailer. What a bunch of dipshits. I hope y'all aren't dipshits.”
"No, ma'am,” Leonard said.” Least I'm not. But I'll watch Hap for you.”
"Yeah, well don't put him in the oven,” she said. ”And if you've got any more snide remarks about the accommodations here, you can hit the road before we get started. Let me tell you something. I didn't ask to rent to either of you. My son wanted me to help out, way I did that colored gal. I'd rather do without money than put up with shit. You boys got that?"
We said we had it.
She pointed to a dark and exceptionally narrow doorway. ”Crapper's right over there. It's slow flush, so don't wipe so severe you cram the bowl with paper. You won't never get it down. Guess that's about it. Want the place or not?"
"We'll stay,” I said. “But might I ask, as if I didn't know, why all these trailers are on stilts?"
"About five years ago we had a hell of a rain and a flood. Down here in the bottoms, it comes a good rain, you can catch catfish in the commode. Flood washed the entire park away. Fortunately I was in town. Couple old geezers renting the far end trailer drowned like ants in a ditch.”
"That's what I was afraid of,” I said.
"That's why I had these trailers put on stilts. These are good solid posts under us.”
To prove her point she hopped heavily on her one good leg three or four times. ”See there. Doesn't even move.”
She pointed at the stove. ”Top burners work. Oven don't. Damn dog fire messed it up. You won't want to cook much nohow. Even if you cook on the top burners, stove heats up, it smells like burning Chihuahua. I don't know about you, but that would set me off my feed.”
"Yeah, ”Leonard said. ”I think that would bother me too.”
"Come on and I'll show you the bedroom. And by the way, I don't want y'all having anybody over. 'Specially gals. This ain't no brothel.”
"We don't know anybody to have over, ”Leonard said.
"Good. Come on.”
Tim looked at us, tried to grin, but couldn't quite make it. We followed Momsy into the bedroom. There was a single bed with a mattress that looked pretty dadgum bleak.
"Looks as if someone's been pissin' on it nightly,” Leonard said.
"That Chihuahua,” she said. ”Sonofabitches would rather bark and piss than fornicate and eat. That's the thing about 'em. They got no priorities. My sister had one of them little poots, and she used to jack him off once a week 'cause he was tense. Never could figure what was wrong with the sonofabitch lickin' his noodle like any other respectable dog. Fact is, more men could lick their noodle, the world would be better off. Less mess'n around. Y'all just turn the mattress.”
"I'll take the couch,” I said.
"We'll flip for it,” Leonard said.
"Hell, dog pissed on the couch too,” she said.
"Dibs on the bed then,” I said. ”I'll turn the mattress."
Chapter 11
Tim helped his mother home, and Leonard and I went into the living room and surveyed our surroundings. "Well, it's cheap enough," I said.
"Well, Smartest Peckerwood in the World, what do you expect? She should be getting top dollar for this? Damn, I'm cold."
We lit the suspicious-looking gas heater in the living room, found one of an equally suspicious nature in the bedroom and lit it. We lit the top cook stove burners as well, and the old lady was right. That rancid grease heated up, that dog in the oven warmed, the place began to smell like a rendering plant.
"I don't know which is worse," Leonard said. "Being frozen or stunk to death. Flip for the bed?"
"I already called dibs. Besides, you heard her. Dog pissed on both of them, so what's the difference?"
"Difference is the couch looks like some kind of torture instrument."
"I got dibs, man. Bed is mine."
The door scraped and squeaked, and Tim, dripping water, came inside and shoved the door shut.
"Shit," he said. "I ain't seen a rain like this since them old codgers drowned."
"That's good to know," Leonard said. "Give me a little something to think about tonight while I'm trying to sleep."
"Trailers weren't on stilts then," Tim said. He went over and got up close to the little heater. "Brrrrrrrr."
"Tim," Leonard asked. "Why didn't you tell us early on Florida stayed out here at your mother's park?"
"I don't know. She seemed like a nice girl. Woman. I didn't know what you guys were up to. I had to feel you out a little. She couldn't find a place, and she mentioned it to me, and I told her about here."
"Didn't have anything to do with you hoping to drop your anchor in her ocean, did it?" Leonard asked. "You having her out here, I mean? Handy. Kind of indebted to you?"
"I guess it did," Tim said. "Some. But I was trying to help her too."
"And pick up fifty dollars," Leonard said.
"That's right," Tim said. "Besides, how indebted is someone gonna feel staying here? This was where she stayed, you know? This trailer . . . besides, I don't need any grief, don't need the law on my back, and I didn't want to drag Mom into this. She don't need those Klan creeps on her for helping out blacks. It isn't like she was trying to be a Good Samaritan, anyway. She'd rent to anybody to make a few bucks."
"Gee, thanks," I said.
"You know what I mean," Tim said. "She wasn't making any kind of statement renting to Florida. It's not like she keeps this park up or nothing."
"No joke?" Leonard said.
"I try to help," Tim said, "but with the station and all, my own life. Hell, it's all I can do."
"You live out here too?" I asked.
"I got a place in back of the store. Once in a while I'll stay out here. It's rare Mom's got any boarders. Place like this mostly caters to a pretty desperate crowd. People come and go quick like. Lot of them are just one-nighters. Some guy renting so he can do the rodeo with some local poke. Right now, 'cept for y'all, and Mom, of course, the park is empty."
"Not to meddle," I said.