(When you're putting your village together, you need space to work in. Often you run out of space, and then you use whatever space you see first. I needed to put a trailer down for a moment, and it wound up in front of the house I'd selected for the mayor's house. And it stayed there, as I worked on the village and its many sections. It *belonged* there, and I had to justify it. This story took shape.)
Fifty years ago, Jack Worthington and John Bunbury were the very best of friends. Theirs were the two wealthiest families in Charlesburg. Jack's house was the oldest house in town, built in 1879. The Bunbury's was completed two years later. The Worthingtons owned the local woodworking and furniture factory, with clients all over the world. They also cornered the paper market in their state. The Bunburys were pioneers in the mercenary and personal protection field, providing services both at home and overseas. Theirs was also a friendly rivalry, which involved charitable giving, community benevolence and noblesse oblige.
But it wasn't until the birth of their sons, in the same year, on the same day, in the same hospital, only seconds apart (which had the one doctor on call running from mother to mother) that the families became close. The boys were inseparable, growing up together as if they were brothers. They competed in everything, but it was a amicable competition – they rejoiced in each other's victories. Until one day, in 1967, when Rose Pearl Robinson and her family moved to town.
Hers was one of the first families to move into the Happy Campers Trailer Park. The Robinsons were also one of the first families of color to move into town. Charlesburg had seen its fair share of raven-haired beauties, but it had never had its own Helen of Troy until now. Rose Pearl turned heads wherever she went. She had a magnetism that made folk want to get to know her. And she was smart, and kind.
Both Jack and John fell for her, and their friendship deteriorated each and every day until they hardly saw each other. Their competition became fierce, and unfriendly. Then Jack got his draft notice, just a month before graduation. He left, promising Rose Pearl that he would return, and write to her every chance he got. Rose Pearl didn't really like either of the two boys in a romantic way, but she kissed him before his father drove him to the airport. John saw this and fumed.
On the night of the Senior Prom, a drunken John grabbed Rose Pearl's wrist and was bringing her to his house, to have his way with her. He was shouting obscenities and slurs at her when Jack's father grabbed him and told him to leave her alone. John struggled, and (according to Rose Pearl) that's when the elder Mr. Worthington knocked him out. John lay unconscious on the porch. Mr. Worthington hugged Rose and asked her to come inside, where he made her a cup of tea. But Rose had fallen asleep.
Next thing she knew, Rose awoke to the house in flames. She ran outside and only then remembered that Mr. Worthington was still inside. She went to go inside again but just then the second floor collapsed, bringing the third story and the attic down on top of it. She heard hysterical laughter, and turned to see John Bunbury watching the house burn. Sirens wailed in the distance. John ran to his house and disappeared inside. She told her story to the firemen, and watched as they carried Mr. Worthington's body to the ambulance. He was pronounced DOA.
Jack returned from his military training for his Dad's funeral. John was conspicuously absent, although his father, Mr. Bunbury, and his immediate family were all there. Rose Pearl took him back to her family's trailer, and told him what had happened. The police had said the death was accidental, that his father had most likely knocked over a candle, or left the gas stove on. No one believed her story. And her reputation was being questioned. She'd been fired from her job at the Bank. And her father had been suspended from the Police Force.
Jack went to the Police, the Medical Examiner, the Bank...and had no better luck. He finally found John, sitting in Big Stina Memorial Park, and confronted him. John spat at him and laughed. "You'll get nowhere. You've got nothing on me but her word. Her word against my Dad and his money and his contacts. You can't convict me of something you can't prove. Anyway, you got her."
"She doesn't want you or me. She's through with this town. Her family will move as soon as they save enough money."
"Why don't you give her the money? Now you've got plenty." And with that, John started laughing quietly, and walked away.
Jack gave her family the money. And bought the trailer. He served his time in Vietnam, and returned after he lost the lower half of his left leg. In that time, John Bunbury's Dad had become Mayor. Jack stayed in Rose Pearl's trailer, while he had the burnt remains of his family home – once the oldest house in the county – cleared away, and placed his trailer there, right in full view of the Bunbury house. John could see it from every balcony, and from windows on 3 sides of the house. John tried everything he could think of, short of arson, to get rid of it. But, his father reminded him, Jack owned the land. He could put a trailer there if he wanted to, and there wasn't any law against it.
Time passed. The elder Bunbury died. John was elected Mayor. He had an enormous tree planted to hide Jack's trailer. And It did, a little bit. Then Jack put an article in the town newspaper. He'd had the foresight to buy the paper, without John knowing it. The article contained the full story of what happened in 1967. John sued for defamation, and won. Jack was the real winner, though, because now the whole town knew. And every time they saw they trailer, they'd remember. So, John began referring to his neighbor as "Trailer Jack." Word around town is that John Bunbury doesn't laugh much these days.
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Little Pieces in Search of A Bigger Picture
LosoweBits and Bots, odds and sods, flotsam and jetsam - one-shots, really short contest entries, lyrics for imaginary musicals, poems...random stuff that you don't trash because maybe they'll fit into something bigger one day.