Jason Jones: Trailer Park Zombies

The only other time we saw each other during the day was at lunch. Fannie Mae, unfortunately, ate lunch in the same period as us and sometimes her and Barrett had issues. Like today.

“I just don’t see why you’re such an ass, Barrett,” she said, picking at her lunch. It was a cornucopia of wonderful flavors today: runny mac and cheese, clumpy mashed potatoes and some meat-flavored solid stuff. Yum.

Barrett shrugged. “What do you mean? I’m not an ass.” He was shoveling the food in his mouth without any regard for taste or consistency. Or decency, for that matter. Half the food was on his chin.

Fannie Mae threw down her fork. “You’re kidding me, right? Today’s his birthday and all you can do is give him shit about Tamara Rogers. Can’t you leave it alone?”

I sat between the two of them. Fannie Mae on my left and Barrett on my right. I tried to ignore the conversation as I stared across the lunchroom at the girl in question. Tamara Rogers, never Tammy. Not even to her friends. She was just that formal kind of girl. And you had to say it with just the right inflection or she’d get pissed off. It wasn’t “Ta-Mar-Ah”, like my mom would say “tomorrow”. You had to call her “Ta-Mare-Ah”. Anyway, Tamara Rogers was sitting right in my line of sight, hence why I chose this particular table. There must be a game that night as her and everyone else at the table was wearing their white and green cheerleader’s outfit. Miniskirts and tight sweatshirts. A smorgasbord of flesh greeted the eyes and awaited all comers. Well, not really all comers. Mainly just the football team.

Tamara and I hadn’t really been in the same circle since grade school, but we did both live in the Rosie Acres Trailer Park so we knew each other. Once upon a time we’d even been friends, before she realized what hanging out with me would do to her reputation and that smiling prettily and batting her eyes would get her more than I could ever give her. She held onto her place on the cheerleading squad by the skin of her teeth and was known to be a total bitch if anyone tried to get in her way. Most of the other girls on the squad were the daughters of the rich men in town – those guys who owned the businesses and made their money off the sweat, tears, and blood of men like my father.

On the few times when my mom was coherent enough to string two sentences together she liked to say that the Roger’s girl was getting ready to be the town slut. I really hoped not but it did appear that she was applying for the position.

“What?” Barrett didn’t even have the decency to look offended. “I just said that he should go over there and say ‘hi’. All he does every day is sit here and not eat lunch while he stares at her. He’s lucky she’s too into herself to notice or she might get upset at him.” I could sense his sidelong gaze, “Lord knows that Mason has.”

“Give it a rest, Barrett,” I said. I picked up my fork and swirled it around in the cold lump of mashed potatoes. “See, I’m eating,” I said.

“You have to actually put it in your mouth to qualify as eating,” he said.

“Fine,” I sighed. I choked down one mouthful and put the fork back on the tray. “See. There you go.”

Fannie Mae giggled as my face turned several shades of red. The potatoes really were pretty bad. Ever eaten cold paste with a hint of garlic? Well, that’s better than what I had just shoved in my mouth.

“What do you want to do for your birthday?” She asked. “We can do whatever you want. It’s Friday and we have the whole weekend to celebrate.”

She missed Barrett looking at her over my head. I could see him out of the corner of my eye with a smirk on his face and raising his eyebrows. His mouth opened to say something that I’m sure would have been extremely witty (and thus funny) and extremely hurtful to her. I kicked his foot and he quickly shut his mouth with a shrug. I didn’t take my eyes off Tamara while all this was going on.

I shook my head at Fannie Mae. “I don’t want to do anything for my birthday. I’m fine, Fannie Mae, really. I don’t want to celebrate.”

Her face fell. “Really? Please, can’t we do something? You never want to go out anymore.”

“I’m saving my money, Fannie Mae. You know that. Every penny counts.”

“I wasn’t suggesting we go somewhere and you pay, Duke. You could come over and watch a movie. My mom’s not going to be home so I’ll be by myself anyway. I can make you a cake for your birthday. I already got the mix.”

“That’s okay, Fannie Mae,” I said. “You don’t need to do that for me. Thank you, though.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Barrett said conspiratorially.

We both looked at him. I knew that tone of voice. “It’s never a good thing when you have a good idea of something to do,” I said.

He grinned winningly. That’s usually when he says something that gets me in trouble.

He reached into his pocket and pulled a key ring out, twirling it on his finger. His grin got wider as he placed them on the table in front of me, shoving my tray out of the way. He flicked them toward me with his finger.

I looked at them and then looked back at him, raising my eyebrow. He raised his in return to me, his grin getting so wide that I was surprised his face didn’t split in two.

He leaned closer to me and Fannie Mae. She pressed in on my back, sliding her arm around my side. I sighed and chose to ignore it. “Well,” he said, licking his lips, “my parents are out of town, too. And my dad didn’t take his car. He still thinks I don’t know where he keeps the spare keys.”

“The convertible?” I whispered, my throat suddenly dry.

“Yep,” he nodded. “I was thinking,” he said, “that maybe we could take it out for a spin and then maybe take it out somewhere I could teach you how to drive a stick and then you could drive us around a little bit if you want.”

Silence reigned at our table. “Really? You’d let me do that?” I asked.

“Sure,” he shrugged, leaning back. “You are my best bud, after all. Someone’s got to teach you how to drive.”

“Can I come, too?” Fannie Mae said excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to go in your dad’s car.”

He looked at me, a smile twitching across his lips. “That’s up to Duke.”

My eyes were riveted to his. I couldn’t believe he was doing this. He knew how much I loved his dad’s car. I waved my hand in her direction. “Sure. Sure. That’s cool.” My hand hovered over the keys, not wanting to believe my luck. “Where can we go?”

“I was thinking we could go back behind the old Pleasant Rest Cemetery. There’s a good dirt field back there that’d be perfect for it. Should be pretty quiet back there, too. Once you get the hang of it maybe you could drive us back home.”

My hand twitched possessively over the car keys as my eyes swiveled back to look at Tamara. The keys felt a little bit like freedom.

“Thanks, Barrett,” I said. “You’re almost not half bad.” I pulled Fannie Mae’s hand off my side as Barrett snorted and went back to eating.

This was going to be the best birthday ever.

2.

Ever have one of those perfect days? One where everything just goes completely perfect and all is right with the world? Birds are singing and the sky is a perfect shade of blue and everything is just the way it should be?

Yeah, me neither.

The skies were dark and the clouds were so full of unfallen rain that they looked pregnant. I stared sullenly at them while Fannie Mae and I sat on her porch. There was a slight chill in the air, too, but I stubbornly refused to go back to my trailer for my jacket. Mom was finally up and in rare form. God knows where Dad was. Mom said he’d come home just long enough to change his clothes and then he’d taken off again. He was probably at the bar or at a girlfriend’s house. It was unlikely we’d see him all weekend. I didn’t really blame him for staying away as much as possible. I would too, if I were him.