Trailer Trash

this is a quick story I'm writing, and if I get a few good ratings, I'll know to continue with it. I'm writing really fast, so excuse the typos and grammar oopsies!!! This first chapter is a little slow, but important to the rest of the story. Thanks for reading!!!!!!

1. The girl next door
It was cold enough to freeze the gas in the cars. Early spring was not shaping up to much this year. Monica Lewis got out of her car, more tired than she had been in months. It was a long shift at the diner, full of greasy truckers all making eyes and inuendos.
She had pulled up to lot 29 in the Vista Verde Community. The green view trailer park, she thought while an ironic smile. The only thing green in the park was Mrs. Tolers lilac bushes, that had not once in the ten years she had lived there had produced even one lilac flower, and the vomit green trailer next to hers rented out to a strange, quiet man she had never met.
Inside of her dismal mobile home, she sat her purse down on the entrance table and went back into the bathroom to wash the grease built up from all day working at the diner. She looked in the mirror above the sink and grimaced. Small lines were starting to appear under her eyes. Her hair was limp and shapeless, her green eyes dull. The years of caring for her alcoholic mother while working two jobs had taken a toll. In her 24 years, she had had little fun or relaxation. Always busy, always worried.
Monica turned the knobs on the tub, and they turned much too easily, with not one drop of water coming from the faucet. She sat down hard on the lid of the toilet and put her face in her hands. Not now!
She felt the tears threaten to come them,a nd commanded them away. She had not cried at her own mother's funeral, she would be damned if she cried over a fucking broken shower knob. Instead of screaming and kicking, like she felt like doing, Monica went to her phone and dialed the number for the park manager, Mr. Riley. Mr. Riley was a sad, sick soul, but sweet, and although he bathed maybe once a month, Monica had a fondness for him.
"Hi, Mr. R, I need Connor to come over," she said in the most sweet and upbeat voice she could muster, "my shower is not being cooperative."
A high pitched, wheezing voice instantly perked up, "Hey, Miss Lewis! How have you been? I haven't seen you in a couple of weeks."
"I had been working day and night, but Sally's bar took a nose dive after the guy got plastered and hit that woman with his car, the drunk asshole. She let me go, so I've been hitting the pavement when I'm not at the diner."
"Oh, Lass, You work too hard! You need a vacation. My sister's got an R.V. up at the-"
"Mr. R.....Can I please get Connor over here?" She was losing her patience, and although she would die before hurting Mr. Riley's feelings, she just wanted a hot bath right now more than she cared for the feelings of others.
"Right-o! Well, there is a problem, hunny. He quit."
Feeling all of her patience and calmness ebb, Monica took a deep breath before continuing, "Well that is great! Do you have a replacement yet?"
"No, hunny. I'm real sorry, but not many clambering to take a minimum wage job at a trailer park." Mr. Riley's voice was soft and a little tired. Monica could tell he was very frightened that if he could not find someone soon, he would have to do the repairs on the rented trailers himself, or lose his free rent, and the meek manager wage he was now receiving.
Then he perked once again, "Hey! I just thought of something! That man...oh what's his name....your neighbor! Mr......Mr.....Litner. He is a plumber!! Told me so when he moved in last month!"
Monica thought it over. Right now she would take what she could get, "Thanks, Mr. R. I owe ya."
"Bye, hunny, and take me up on that RV."
The phone back in the receiver, Monica scrambled up all her nerve. The man who had moved in next to her three weeks earlier was rarely seen. He must be very busy. Here she was, this neighbor who had not so much as given him a friendly smile since his move, was now about to ask for a huge favor from him. She knew that she could not even offer much in the way of payment. Rent was due in a week, and she was short from losing her job at the bar.
"Never know unless I try."


Ian Litner. What a fucking pussy name. Once he was finished with this assignment, he was gonna drive to Calvin's house and beat his face in. Of all the aliases he had had over the last four years, this one was the worst. Some fucking plumber in a dirty, stink filled trailer park!
If this job was not so much fun, he would have quit. The pay was one thing, enough in the bank to last him fifty years in Cabo, but the perks were sweeter than any 401 k package he would have ever got. He was too good, though, and others in the organization were feeling threatened. Calvin Dale was the worst, handing out the good assignments to his lackies, and giving him the shit jobs.
His skill would not fail him,however, even here. He looked over the poloroids he had taken. Five prospects. Nice but nothing great. The point was that they would not be missed.
There was a knock on the door. He jumped and his hand instinctively went to his hip were his 38 special lay in it's holster. He quietly made it to the door and glared out the peep hole. It was his neighbor. She knocked again, but he did not make any attempt to reach for the handle of the door. He stared through the hole at her. After these last years, he had begun to be able to read people just by looking at them. It made his job easier.
This woman was harder to read. Sure she was beautiful. Soft features, big green eyes. Poor blood, though. Nothing too refined, or striking about her. Her skin did not glow with health, and her hair had not seen a salon in years. The most beautiful thing about her was somewhere behind her eyes. A quiet scream of strength covering up deep pain. Her eyes showed the strain of many long days and even longer nights. Immediately he felt a sort of kinship with her.
Finally coming out of his thoughts as she began to turn from the stoop, he opened the door, squinting in the late day sun, "Can I help you?"
She turned, obviously relieved, but embarrassed as well, "Hi, uh..." she began, and he nearly smiled. She wanted something, but was afraid to bother him. "I'm so sorry, I really hate just come over to ask, well, for a favor, but-"
"Need someone to fix your pipes?" he said and this time allowed a sly smile to sneak across his lips.
Her blush was what he had been hoping for. Most girls raised in the conditions that she obviously had been could be far more apt to smile wide, and twist their hair through their fingers than blush. She was not the norm, and he liked that.
"Ye-yes. The knob on my tub is stripped. I wouldn't ask, but I just got off of a double shift, and Mr. Riley happened to mention that you were a plumber....."
He took her in, from head to toe. She was about 23, 24, longish dark hair, and a good figure. A little too much breast for her small frame, another sign of low class genes, but that never bothered him. "Let me grab my tools, and I'll be right over."

Her trailer was neat and clean, although sparse in the way of furniture. There was one loveseat covered in a tattered quilt, a small, older television. There were plenty of candles, although he thought they were probably a habit from years of worry when the electric company would be by to turn off the juice rather than late romantic evenings. A few well cared for plants in front of the large living room window showed him she was meticulous, and in need of company that couldn't yell for excess attention. "So where's your bathroom?"
He didn't know why, but he had to will himself to look away from her. After she told him where the bathroom was, he had to hold himself back from running down the hall. He was almost afraid of her! What the hell was going on here?