Nobody

Hard Work

The birds took off squawking as I came awake, screaming Prudence's name, my fingers clawing at the plywood, my sore muscles screaming. It was barely past dawn, and I got out of the sleeping bag and went into the woods to handle my business, took a quick whore's bath, then smoked a cigarette. I'd pushed myself, and my sore muscles were my punishment. I went through the katas slowly until I was limbered up, then ate my orange and drank my juice.

Knowing what I was going to do, I stripped all the insulation out of the walls, exposing the wiring, then started tearing up the carpet. I ended up using a face mask because of the dust, but I'd bought a couple of boxes of them because I planned on using a sand-blaster and then a paint gun on the siding. By the time the flooring was torn out to the frame my watch said it was two in the afternoon.

I needed more insulation and black plastic sheeting. Two layers. One would go under the double-wide to cover the ground, the other would go under the insulation, separating it from the air gap to reduce moisture gathering and prevent rodents. I'd forgotten to grab a staple gun and staples, so I added that to the list and looked around.

I'd completely gutted the trailer. Even pulling the cabinets and cupboards. The frames of the walls remained, the aluminum siding, but that was it. Everything else was in a pile out back of the trailer. A pile that was getting higher and higher.

I wondered if the local garbage company would deliver a dumpster.

I cleared the bed of the truck, locked the tool shed and the doors to the house, and headed into town. The radio was playing some new country hill-billy hip-hop and I shook my head in disgust. I hated the new music, but I was on the wrong side of forty now, which meant I could sneer at the "kid's these days music" and not be out of place.

The truck didn't have power steering and my sore shoulders protested a few times as I drove into town. It was a beautiful June day, almost July, and I relaxed as I drove the fifteen minute drive into town. I was trying to decide if I wanted to put new siding on the trailer or not when I turned the corner and the little town came into view.

I parked at the diner, getting out and groaning at the pain in my lower back.

Yer gettin' old, Texas.

For a second I thought about asking Pru to rub my back when we went to bed and it all came crashing back.

she can't rub your back because she's dead

I turned away from the diner, facing the driver's side window of the truck, and wiped my eyes, getting myself under control. I wiped my face off again and walked into the diner, limping despite my attempt at controlling it.

The Army had rebuilt that knee for me after Desert Storm, since about 2002 it had started acting up. A fancy doctor Pru had taken...

Pru...

"Mister, are you all right?" The girl behind the counter asked me, snapping me out of it.

"Huh?" I asked dumbly.

"You're crying. Is everything all right?" She asked.

I wiped my eyes with my arm. "Yeah. Fine. Double mushroom burger and fries to go, please."

The same thing I'd ordered every other time.

I sat on the stool, looking at the counter, till she brought my the bag of food.

"Thanks," I told her I paid, tipped her five, and went back out to the truck. It was only a few hundred feet, but I started the truck and drove down to the hardware store. I sat inside, smoking another cigarette and drinking a bottle of water.