Читать книгу Where Is Wonderland Anyway - Karen Mueller Bryson - Страница 3

The story of how I got from the FloridaLand Trailer Park just outside of Brooksville, Florida to become a real live Hollywood celebrity began near the end of July, in early 2002. The summer heat was getting to all of us, but it was getting to the ones without air conditioning worst of all. We were without air that whole summer. Billy kept forgetting to call the guy to come and fix it. Or maybe he just never did have the cash. Probably spent it on booze or weed. That afternoon the temperature reached well over ninety-five degree in the shade. It wasn’t just hot; it was fricken hot.

Round about four in the afternoon, I was sitting out back of our trailer, hoping to catch a breeze and waiting for Billy to get home. I hardly ever tried to fix supper before he came home because I never knew what kind of a mood the man would be in. It was best to just wait until he got there to fix him a plate. Of course, he never came home the same time on any one night. Most nights he’d stop at the Foxy Lady Lounge with some of his buddies from the slaughterhouse and have a few. Generally it was more than a few.

My mama warned me against taking up with Billy. She said, “That man looks good now, when you’re sixteen, but just you wait missy, and see how good he looks ten years from now.” Now that I’m twenty-six, I know she was right. At thirty-five, Billy looked like an old drunk. Smelled like one, too. There was many a night that I'd thank the Lord for whiskey dick.

I was babysitting for my neighbor, Sheila. Her kids were playing in a hose out in the backyard. The rear of Sheila’s trailer backed up to the rear of the trailer that me and Billy rented. Sheila was a couple of years older than me, and she already had three kids, one from each of her three marriages. She worked as a waitress up at one of the strip clubs out on Highway 41. She didn’t strip herself and never would. She said it would be a bad way to influence her kids and I would have to agree.

Sheila and I hit it off right away. I met her the first day Billy and I moved into FloridaLand. Sheila asked if she could help us into our trailer. I always had an admiration for Sheila. She worked hard to support her kids. And even though it wasn’t much, she owned her own home. That’s more than I could say for me and Billy.

Sheila had asked if I could keep an eye on her kids when they got home from school. She had to work the lunch shift and wasn’t sure if she’d make it home before the kids. Kelly was almost old enough to watch the boys herself, she had just turned ten, but those boys were a handful. They loved the water, though. Since we didn’t live anywhere near the ocean, and FloridaLand didn’t have a pool, the kids had to settle for running through a hose in the backyard.

Sheila made it home a little after five. By that time, the boys were soaking wet and full of mud.

“All right, you boys, time to get cleaned up.” Sheila came around the back of her trailer.

“But, Ma,” the boys said.

“No buts. We’ve got to get supper ready. Kelly, why don’t you hose those boys down over there on the cement?”

“All right, Ma,” Kelly herded the boys over to the cement slab.

“Sure was a hot one today,” Sheila said as she walked over to me.

“Yeah, and I don’t think it’s gonna cool down too much tonight.”

“Kelly’s daddy was supposed to bring us an air conditioner three weeks ago.”

“I wouldn’t go counting on that one.”

“You got that right. Billy’s not home yet?”

“Nope. Probably stopped up to the Foxy Lady.”

“He may as well set up a bed for himself up there.”

“I’m not complaining. The more time he spends at the bar, the less time I have to look at his nasty face.”

“Men, can’t live with ‘em, can’t kill ‘em. Hey, thanks for watching the kids.”

“They sure do love that water.”

“Someday, I’ll get me a big house with one of them white picket fences and a pool so my kids can swim for real.”

“Someday…”

“Well, I best get supper ready,” Sheila walked back to her trailer. “Thanks, again, Ally.”

When the sun started going down, I figured it was time to start fixing supper, so I went back into the trailer to see what we had to make. Like most days, the refrigerator was mostly empty, except for some eggs, a jug of milk, and Billy’s beer. Beer was about the only thing Billy would never let run out. I opened the cupboard and saw a can of tomato soup and some crackers. Big choice—eggs or soup. I didn't have a car. The nearest store, the 7-11, was about three quarters of a mile down the way from FloridaLand. That’s a mighty long walk on an empty stomach. And it’s even longer when it’s still ninety degrees with the sun gone down. Besides, I only had seventy-three cents in my pocket.

Billy didn’t ever want me to work. He didn't give me any money either. A few times a month, if he was sober and I begged, he’d take me up to Food Lion to get some groceries. That July hadn’t been a very sober month.

So I fixed the can of tomato soup and crackers and watched the one channel we could get on the small black and white television my mama gave me before she died. Most nights, they’d play an old movie. Elvis Presley in Blue Hawaii or John Wayne in Stagecoach. That night, they were showing my favorite, The African Queen with Katherine Hepburn. It was about 10:30 when Billy woke me up.

“Whatcha' watching?” he asked, stumbling in the front door.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You must be watching something if the TV is on.”

“I must have fallen asleep.”

“How many times have I told you not to go to sleep with the t.v. on?” Before I could stop him, he slapped me in the face so hard he knocked me to the floor.

“Do you think I’m made of money?" he said.

I was so stunned I didn’t answer. It’s not that Billy hadn’t hit me before. That happened plenty. It’s just that he usually gave me lots of advance notice before he was going to do it.

“Get up and turn that thing off before you come to bed.” Billy turned and walked into the bedroom.

“On second thought,” he said, turning back to me, “let me save you the trouble.”

He walked over to the television, lifted it from the table, threw it to the floor, and smashed it to pieces. Billy started laughing to himself as he turned and walked into the bedroom. The only thing my mama ever gave me was gone. I got up off the floor but I didn’t go to bed right away. I knew if I waited a few minutes, Billy would probably pass out and I wouldn’t have to deal with his sorry ass until morning.

"Hey, Billy, what have you done with the milk?" I yelled from the trailer's kitchen.

"You know I ain't touched your milk," Billie shouted back.

"You must have done something with it. It’s not here and it was just here last night."

"I told you I ain't done nothing with that milk of yours. Why do you think I'm suddenly drinking that shit? That stuff'll kill you."

I walked to the back of the trailer where Billy was getting ready for work.

"I know I only had one glass of milk before I went to bed and that jug was still half full. Now there’s not even a sign of a milk jug anywhere. So what happened to it?"

"Maybe someone broke into the trailer last night and stole the milk. Did you notice if anything else was gone? Like maybe the Oreos?"

"Very funny."

I stood there for a few seconds watching Billy get dressed. I wondered why it took him so long in the morning. It's not like he ever shaved or did anything with his hair. Lord knows he didn't want to ruin that precious biker image of his with a real hairstyle or a clean-shaven face. And he only took a shower when he was going out drinking after work.

"Can ya' stop and get me some milk on your way home?" I asked.

"I'm a very busy man. I got things to do."

"Like what?"

"Like how about it’s none of your business."

"Oh, yeah? Well, screw you. And don't expect me to be here whenever you decide to come home."

"And just where do you think you're gonna go? You ain't even got a car. I know you’re not gonna walk that sorry ass of yours into town."

"I'll find a ride."

"Yeah, with who?"

"How about it’s none of your business?"

Before I knew it was coming, he hauled off and belted me right in the mouth. I fell over onto the floor. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me back to my feet. "Don't you ever speak to me like that again. You hear me, bitch?"

I tried to say "yeah" but I could barely open my swelling mouth to get the words out.

"I can't hear you," he said, grabbing me by my shirt's collar and pulling me right up to his sweaty face. "What did you say?"

I took a deep breath and managed to mumble, "Okay."

He pushed me down on the bed. "That's what I thought," he said. "I've got some time before I gotta be to work. How about a little entertainment?"

I could feel blood streaming down my cheek. I tried to lift myself up to get to the bathroom but Billy pushed me back down on the bed. "Where do you think you're going? We're just starting to have some fun."

He jumped on top of me, straddling me down while he took off his belt.

"You're gonna love this. I know you will. That's about all you’re good for, anyway.”

To this day, I'm not sure exactly how it happened or why, but I suddenly felt the anger to fight back. And fight back I did. I kicked Billy in the groin just as hard as I could and he doubled over in what I was sure was both pain and surprise. I jumped up from the bed and ran into the kitchen. Billy jumped up and ran after me. He grabbed me by the backside of my head and pulled me toward him. I managed to twist free by elbowing him in the stomach but before I could get away, he leapt forward and grabbed my shoulders. I started kicking at him with all the power I could muster and we began a strange kind of fight-dance around the kitchen. Before I knew what happened, we both lost our balance. Billy fell back and I fell forward.

When I got up, Billy was slumped on the floor right below the kitchen stove. I figured he was knocked out. I walked over to him and took the opportunity to kick him hard. "That's for busting up my mama's television," I said as I laid my boot to his side. He fell over like a rag doll when I kicked him. That’s when I noticed the gash in his skull. And it was bleeding. Lots. I knew he was dead.

It was still early so I figured Sheila would be home. I ran over to her trailer and pounded on the door.

“Sheila! Sheila, let me in,” I yelled. “Please.”

“What’s going on, Girl?” Sheila said opening the door. “Oh, my God, what happened? You’re covered in blood.”

“It’s Billy.”

“What did he do to you?”

“It’s more like what I did to him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Billy’s dead.”

“Dead? Are you sure?”

“I don't think he could get any deader.”

“Come inside. The kids already left for school.”

We both went into Sheila’s trailer and I told her the gory details of the happenings leading up to Billy death.

“What do I do now?” I asked.

“That depends on a few things. I want you to be straight with me, Ally. Okay?”

“I’m always straight with you, Sheila, you know I am.”

“It’s important.”

“Okay.”

She sat me down at her kitchen table and took a seat herself.

"Did you and Billy ever get married?”

“No. Billy never wanted to.”

“That’s good.”

“What else?”

“I've never seen you drive. Do you even have a license?”

“No. Billy didn’t want me to drive.”

“How about the trailer? Was your name on the lease?"

I shook my head. “Billy took care of all that.”

"What about the utilities? The cable bill?”

“Billy wouldn’t get cable. He paid Mr. Mooney month to month and that included utilities.”

“Did you ever take the rent money up to Mr. Mooney’s office?”

“Are you kidding? Billy never did let me handle his money.”

“Did you ever get any mail delivered here? Letters from family or friends—magazine subscriptions?”

“No. I don’t recall either of us getting any mail. I don’t have any family. My mama’s dead and I’ve never seen my daddy. I don’t have brothers or sisters.”

“So, no one knows you were here except for me and my kids.”

“Sure looks that way, don’t it?”

“You have to be sure there is no way anyone would trace you back to Billy or your trailer.”

“I don’t think there is. But what about my finger prints?”

“Have you ever been arrested?”

“Never.”

“Not even as a juvie?”

“No.”

“Then your prints probably aren’t on file anywhere.”

“What now?”

“We have to pack up everything of yours from the trailer and get you out.”

“I don’t have much. Billy busted up my mama’s television pretty bad. I’ve got some clothes. That's about it.”

“You’re sure that’s all you have?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have a suitcase or anything to put your clothes in?”

“Billy’s got a backpack.”

“You can’t take anything of Billy’s with you.”

“I don’t have anything.”

“I’ll find something.” She got up. “You go back into the trailer and get your stuff together. I’ll be right there.”

It sure was quiet when I went back into the trailer to get my clothes. It was like all the bad that Billy had inside him was drained out of the place. Of course, I checked to make sure he was still dead. And he was.

Sheila came into the trailer a few minutes later. We packed my stuff and she told me I needed to get out of Florida. Fast. I’d never been out of the state before. And I sure didn't know much about living anywhere else - except what I’d seen on television.

Sheila said she would call the police later that night. She would tell them she heard noise coming from her neighbor's trailer. And she promised she would never tell another soul I was there. For all she knew, Billy was single. The only women she ever saw at Billy's place were the pick-ups he brought home from the Foxy Lady Lounge.

I left Brooksville with a duffel bag of clothes and two hundred dollars of Sheila's tip money. I wasn't sure where I was headed, except out of the state. And I wasn't really sure how to get out of Florida except to go north.

My mama always told me that the Lord works in mysterious ways. And accidentally killing Billy was the first in a long chain of mysterious happenings that changed my life for good.