Ch. 14

Anthony was sitting on the couch, watching television in the small trailer that he and Johanna lived in. They found it was cheaper and easier to live in a trailer than in an apartment. For now, they were parked in a decently maintained trailer park, not too far from where Sweeney lived, so that Johanna could see her father and sister and so Anthony could see his best friend.

Unfortunately, their neighbors had been giving them problems.

Johanna had tried to be nice when the family, two parents with eight children, moved their trailer next door. She'd brought them over a tuna casserole on her finest casserole dish as a welcome gift. However, the people had insisted on parking their trailer directly next to Anthony and Johanna's trailer, so they could be heard at all hours of the night.

The young couple finally had enough when the children accidentally shot the seat in Anthony's hovercraft with an arrow, of all things. That hovercraft had cost Anthony a good deal of money, what with its custom neon yellow paint job and all.

"You need to talk to them," Johanna said as they sat down for breakfast. "You need to go over there and tell them to move."

"But every time I try, they give me shit!" Anthony replied, stabbing at his bacon. "They're horrible, that whole group."

"So give 'em shit back! Give 'em enough shit to create a shit storm! And get my casserole dish back while you're there."

Anthony sighed. "I'll try again this morning, but I'm telling you, they won't listen. Especially not the fatass wife. She can barely move, so she doesn't want to be bothered with anything."

"Well, try anyway."

"Fine, I will."

00

Anthony knocked on the neighbor's trailer door around ten in the morning. He could hear someone - the father- yelling from inside.

"BILLY JOE! MARY SUE! BRADLEY JIM! ONE OF YOU KIDS GO GET THE DOOR!"

There was the sound of footsteps as one or two of the kids ran over. The door opened to reveal a short, straggly-haired little girl, who was missing several teeth.

"Hello?" She asked.

"Hi," Anthony said. "Can I talk to your mum or dad?"

The little girl rolled her eyes. "Ma, it's that neighbor boy!"

There was a loud sigh, followed by a thud as the obese woman in a floral muumuu hauled herself up from the hammock that she laid on. She waddled over to the door, towering over her child.

"What'chu want?" She asked, glaring at Anthony.

Anthony was about to explain why he was there when the woman snorted and hocked a loogie on the floor of the trailer. "Sorry 'bout that. The smokin', you know, it messes with my throat."

"...Right. I was just going to ask if you could please move your trailer a few feet away. We hear you guys all night and it keeps us up."

She grinned. "Hey, Billy Joe Senior! The neighbor boy wants us to move the trailer!"

There were yet more footsteps as the father, quite a large man who didn't seem to bathe too often, walked over.

"Why d'you want us to move the trailer?" He looked at Anthony, then down at his daughter, who was still standing there. "Damn it, Brandy Mae, go get daddy a beer. Why're you still standing there?"

The little girl nodded and ran back inside.

"Now, what's this about moving the trailer?" The man asked again.

"We hear you all night and it keeps us awake. Also, I noticed that one of your children shot an arrow into the seat of my hovercraft. That cost me £500 on Craigslist!"

"How'd you know it was one of my kids? It could be anyone's kids fuckin' with yer stuff." The man replied.

"I've seen your son shooting the arrows with your daughter," Anthony countered. "Listen, I'm not askin' for much, just for you to move five, ten, fifteen feet over, and to leave my hovercraft alone. Also, my wife wants her casserole plate back."

"Tell yer wife I ain't washed her casserole plate yet," The woman said, trying her best to cross her arms in front of her.

"It's been three weeks. It's still dirty?" Anthony asked.

"Well I've got other shit to do besides wash your wife's dirty dishes. And as far as the trailer goes, the answer is NO," The woman spat. She then snorted another wad of snot and spat on the ground again.

"Damn it, Lola, why do you keep doin' that?" The husband asked.

"Stop actin' like you've got so much class," The lady replied.

Anthony just shook his head. He wasn't exactly classy either, but he was hoping that the neighbors would be a little better, and would maybe move.

"Now you turn around and go tell your little wifey that she'll get her plate back when we're done with it, and don't you come back here again! We're staying here! Got a great place next to the septic tank and we're not giving that up."

Anthony sighed and turned around.

"Whatever," He mumbled, walking away.