“Oh, yeah. Step back a bit.” When he did, she pushed the screen door open and invited him inside.
When he came in, Muriel gave him a good once over. He was good-looking, this one. Not too tall, but handsome and strong-looking.
“What can I do you for, Steve?” she said.
“I’d like to pay my rent for three months in advance.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. I hope that’s not a problem.”
“Oh, no. But I’m curious, Steve, whatcha payin’ rent in advance for? Or is that none of my business?”
“Not at all. It’s just that I like to get it out of the way so I don’t have to worry about it every month for a while.”
“Oh. Sure. Okay. You wanna pay your rent in advance, that’s just fine by me.”
He reached fingers into the breast pocket of the unbuttoned short-sleeve blue chambray shirt he was wearing. He wore nothing underneath it. From the pocket, he removed a check.
“That should be the right amount,” he said as he handed the check to Muriel.
She took it, tilted her head back, and looked through her bifocals. “Yep, right on the money.”
“Could I get a receipt for that?” Regent said.
“A receipt?”
“Yes, please.” He was still smiling.
He was a looker, all right, in his mid-thirties. A genial fellow. But there was something else. There was something about that constant smile. Muriel did not trust people who smiled all the time. It wasn’t natural – and usually, it was downright fake. If Mr. Regent didn’t lose that smile pretty quick, Muriel was going to get rid of him pretty quick.
“C’mon in here,” she said, leading him down the hall to the kitchen. Once again, cats scattered before her. The house smelled of them.
“How many cats do you have?” Regent said.
“Eleven.” She put her drink on the counter, then went to a desk against the kitchen wall on the right. The desk was cluttered with papers and big envelopes and books and magazines and even a shoe box. Muriel shuffled things around until she found her receipt pad. It didn’t take her long to find it – the desk was a mess, but she knew where everything was.
Muriel put the pad on a stack of books, then felt around for a pen. She filled the receipt out, referring to the check for the right total. She tore his copy of the receipt from the book and handed it to Regent.
“Howzat?” she said.
He looked at it. “Perfect. Thank you.”
“You all settled in now?” Muriel said.
“Yes, I am. Everything’s unpacked and in its place. I didn’t procrastinate at all this time, I got all the unpacking done the first day.”
“Well-well, good for you. What kinda work you do, Steve?”
“I’ve got a few very successful – what am I saying, wildly successful websites.”
“Websites, huh? Pornography?”
“I prefer adult entertainment.”
“Yeah, that’s what they’re callin’ it these days, huh?” Muriel went over to the kitchen counter where a half-full whiskey bottle stood next to two glasses, Muriel’s almost full. By her glass was a pack of cigarettes, a red Bic lighter, and an ashtray full of butts. “Can I get you a drink?” she said as she shook out a cigarette, then lit up.
His smile fell away then. “Nothing for me, thank you.”
“I been spikin’ my ice tea this afternoon,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. “So you got websites with lotsa neckid women on ‘em?”
“Yes, something like that.”
“You’n my husband Frank’ll get along just fine. He looks at them titty sights all the time. He don’t know how lucky he is to have a wife don’t mind him lookin’ at them titty sites. You ain’t gonna have a big parade of neckid women comin’ in and out of your trailer, are ya?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that at all. We do most of our work at my partner’s house, anyway. We’re very discreet, I promise.”
“Okay. That’s good. This is a family park. I can’t have no pornography goin’ on all over the place for the kids to see.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t even know I’m there.”
“Sounds good to me,” Muriel said. “A quiet park is a happy park.”
She walked him back to the front door, said goodbye, then stepped outside and watched him walk to his trailer from the porch, smoking her cigarette. She looked at his trailer a long time, and the back end of his SUV – a very expensive SUV, she knew, because it was a Porsche.
Muriel went back into the house and turned into the living room, went to Frank’s recliner. “Wake up, Frank.”
He did not move. He was snoring quietly. For a change. When he snored in bed he sounded like an ill zoo animal. He snored in his recliner and he sounded like a purring cat.
“Frank!” she shouted.
Frank jerked in his chair. “Huh?”
“Wake up.”
“Dammit,” he said as he shuffled around in the recliner. He reached down and clutched a wooden lever on the side of the chair, pulled it, and straightened it up into a sitting position. “What the hell’s a matter now?” he said. Frank Snodgrass had a long, hound dog face, bald on top with a U of greying brown hair from ear to ear. He slowly stood as he said, “What’s so damned important that I couldn’t sleep a little while longer, huh?”
“There’s something wrong about him,” Muriel said.
“Wrong about who?”
“That man who was just here.”
“Who the hell you talking about? I was asleep, ‘member?”
“The man who just – Steven Regent, who just moved into unit five.”
“What about him?” Frank shuffled out of the living room and into the kitchen.
Muriel followed him, talking the whole way.
“What’s he doin’ here, in this trailer park?”
“What kinda question is that?” Frank said. He went to the refrigerator and opened the door below the top freezer. He bent down and looked in at what was on the metal shelves.
“Well, think about it,” Muriel said. She went to the counter and snubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray. “He’s got that beautiful trailer – that thing looks new, and it didn’t come cheap. And how about that Porsche SUV, huh? How much you think he paid for that? And he just now paid three months in rent. Three months.”
“So what?”
“Well, if he’s – what the hell are you looking for?”
“Nothin’.” He stood and closed the refrigerator door. He did that all the time, and it drove Muriel crazy.
“The so-what is that he’s here in this dump,” Muriel said.
“Maybe he just likes trailer park living, ever thought a that?”
“Then why this trailer park? This place is an old dump. Why would he come here? He’s got a lotta money, and he smiles a lot. Too much. Says he runs a few titty sites on the Internet.” She went back to washing dishes.
Frank was pouring some whiskey into the empty glass, and he stopped and turned to her. “Really? Titty sites?”
She turned to him. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that. You an’ your titty sites. I got a bad feelin’ about him.”
“Maybe the guy just wants to live in some outta the way dumpy trailer park, who the hell knows anything about anybody? You’re always tryin’ to figure out what’s goin’ on in other people’s heads.” He took a couple big gulps of whiskey, put the glass down, then came up behind Muriel and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He rubbed his hands over her belly, then slid them up and cupped her sagging breasts. “You gotta stop tryin’ to get into other people’s heads, my melon princess.” He kissed her neck.
Muriel laughed and put her hands over his. “I can’t help it. I see things other people don’t. And I’m seein’ somethin’ in that young man. There’s somethin’ wrong about him.”