“Fine,” I mutter fumbling with the latch. Once free, I slam the door closed. I don’t look back as I trek down the gravel shoulder to the entrance of the RV park. The car idols in the distance until I’m well into the bowels of the park.
“Fuck!” I scream, stomping my foot on the ground. The door is locked, and my keys are nowhere to be found. I drop my backpack on the foldaway stairs leading up to the door of the RV. Crouching low I slowly pull out every piece of paper and book, all the bits of my life I’ve tossed in over the last few months, and still come up empty handed.
I stand and raise my face to the sky. “Why today?” I don’t get an answer, not that I expected one. I check each window and door, knowing they will all be locked up tight. Eventually I make my way back to the front of the park, hoping the guy who fills propane tanks and takes care of the bathrooms is in his mobile home, he’ll probably have a phone so I can call a locksmith. It would be much cheaper to get ahold of Dante to ask if my keys are on his floor with the other shit that fell out of my bag, but there are a few problems. I don’t have his or Ollie’s numbers, and even if I did I probably wouldn’t use it.
I tap on the warped screen door to the trailer in lot number one. It’s a single wide, with a wooden deck. There’s even a shed next to it. This trailer is the kind you’d expect to find in a trailer park, the ones that are actually designed to live in, a true mobile home. I hear a curse, followed by stomping footsteps. The older guy who answers narrows his eyes at me, and then looks behind me. I look over my shoulder out of curiosity. “What’d ya need?” he questions when he’s satisfied there’s no one else with me.
My throat goes dry, “I lost the keys to my RV. I was—”
“Where’s your momma?” he cuts me off.
Not expecting the question, I stammer, trying to come up with a quick answer. “Oh, she… I… just got home from school. I stayed later with a friend to study. I think she was going to turn in some applications today, but I’m not sure when she’s getting back.” The lie stops me from meeting his eyes, but that’s nothing new. “I was hoping to use your phone to call a locksmith.”
He swings the screen open in invitation. I don’t really want to go inside, but he seems almost as suspicious of me, as I am of him. I skirt around him and enter a surprisingly clean living room. The kitchen is visible just to the left. All the appliances are a dingy olive green, but they’re clean and it smells like he just got done with dinner. My stomach chooses that moment to grumble at the fact I haven’t been eating very much over the last few days.
Warmth invades my cheeks, but he pretends not to notice as he reaches for a phone sitting on the side table next to the sofa. Using his pointer finger he jabs at the screen a few times, unlocking it before offering it to me. I hadn’t thought this through. I have no idea who to call, or how to get the number without a phonebook. “You don’t happen to know any companies that would come out here, and not charge me an arm and a leg, do you?”
He heaves a long sigh. “I can call Eddie’s grandson. He works over at the service station. You sure you don’t wanna just wait on your mamma?” His eyes run down to my shoes, then back up, but he’s not leering. It’s like he’s checking to make sure I’m not going to fall apart in his house.
I shake my head looking over his shoulder. “No sir, I’d appreciate you making that call, she could be awhile.” He grunts. He probably thinks my mom is out at some bar, or this is our normal. I don’t correct him. It’s easier if he thinks that. I don’t need him calling CPS or something if he finds out she’s gone.
Taking the phone back from my hand, he squints at the display screen. The low