As soon as I wake up, I eat my apple pie with a cup of coffee. My stomach feels sour from all the stress and I needed to put something in it right away.
I can’t believe it’s only been eight days since I left Ashland! I wanted adventure, and adventure I have found! If I left here now, everyone in my family would know I’ve flipped out for sure. It would confirm their belief that I can’t stick it out anywhere. I would have to tell them all the reasons for leaving, and then they would have to worry about me being in a tent again. I’m not ready to go home just yet, and I definitely don’t want to sleep in a tent again as long as I live! It’s all my fault really, the fact that they have a need to worry. I haven’t always made the wisest decisions. First, I drop out of The California Institute of Arts after only three months to elope with Don, the father of my two sons. Then after going to work so he could complete his own college education, get his real estate and brokers license, I gave birth, raised my sons, enjoying every minute of motherhood. The wife part was lonely as hell. I was blind to the fact that a fortune was building. I was not invited to take part in this money growth. I did not even know our worth. I was at home cooking, cleaning, and playing with my sons. Bottom line, I left and waived away all my rights to financial security in exchange for freedom. The family’s worry did not stop there. It must have appeared to them that I was bouncing all over the planet with wild schemes and spontaneous adventures during my single days, dragging the boys along. But guess what? We had the time of our lives being poor. The boys had all the friends, food, and fresh air they could want. They tell me so to this day. I think my gypsy spirit confuses my loved ones, yet at the same time, they are entertained when I share with them the many stories of my journeys and they always expect to hear more, and more I always have. Hacienda RV Park will be a wonderful addition to my life adventures portfolio.
I said I’d be here until the end of summer and that’s exactly what I’m going to do, come hell or high water! What I need to do right now is make a closer bond between Billy, Ray, and myself. That way I have the safety of their friendship to fall back on. I do like both of them very much, so I need to keep my focus and energy on doing my job for them. It’s obvious they need me desperately! I am beginning to see that I need them too.
From my table inside the fifth wheel, I hear the back door to the kitchen slam. When I look out, I see Bubba emptying the oil drip pan into the used oil barrel. I guess I forgot to empty that last night. Oops! He looks mad! So Bubba is still alive. Now all I need to see is Terry, to know if she is alive. I feel a little more powerful now that I am aware of Bubba’s attraction to me. I now see him as more of a dangerous little boy than a rifle-toting killer. At the same time, I will keep my distance at all costs.
Bonita and Bandito distract me from my self-absorption. I have been staring into my coffee cup. They are sitting side-by-side looking up at me from the floor next to the table. If I hadn’t adopted them a year apart, one would think they were related. Kindred spirits, that’s what they are, always have been from the moment they saw each other. It’s as if they could read my mind sometimes. They do not ever disturb me when I am in deep thought. They just stare at me in concern, and in hopes that I will notice that they exist. I know they need to get outside. They see that I have returned to earth, now they are happy. I leash them up to go outside. This is the way I’ve always wanted to take care of a pet. I’ve had so many pets through the years, mostly dogs.
My ex-husband and I had gotten a dog when we were first married. Her name was Trudy. I can’t seem to remember the part Trudy played in our everyday lives. We were so wrapped up in starting a new life together. I was wrapped up in the fear that maybe I had made the wrong choice in a life partner, being pregnant, raising the boys, looking pretty, keeping up to the standards that my ex-husband wanted, and growing up myself. During and after the marriage, the boys were always bringing home dogs they had found, or a friend would give us a puppy. With all the chaos of my boys, their friends, cousins, school, soccer, baseball, my jobs, and lack of focus on dogs, most of them had no meaning to me. They came and went like passing strangers on the street. Some had gotten run over by escaping through a gate, carelessly left open by a group of laughing boys running out to play. One dog was mean and aggressive and had to be taken to the animal shelter. One could jump a six-foot wall and go anywhere it wanted. That one disappeared one day. I have always felt guilt for those creatures.
These two dogs are spoiled! They have had the best ten years of any dog on the planet! Sometimes I think they have become a substitute for my empty nest. I guess I need the ball and chain of dependence. I could imagine the simplicity of life without them, but I don’t imagine that for very long, because all I see in being without them is a dark void. The same goes for my sons. Had I not married; I would not have had them to ground me to this earth.
We walk the perimeter of the park. I let the dogs dig by the fallen log for a while. It is Wednesday and more RVs are arriving. When I return to the trailer, I take a long hot shower, at least until the water turns cold. After getting dressed for the day, I go to the main building to look for insect repellent. Vi is on duty at the counter.
The list of chemicals on the insect repellent makes me quiver! I don’t want this on my skin! I saw my arms and legs in the shower. My tea tree oil is not enough. It eases the pain, but does not help prevent the bite in the first place. I buy it against my will. I also buy an insect repellent candle for my picnic table. Bubba is busy in the kitchen cooking breakfast for the guests. Helen is waiting tables. When I am at the register I hear Bubba yell.
“HELEN IF YA DON’T GET GOIN’ ON THEM DISHES NOW, YUR GONNA BE HERE ALL NIGHT! I’M NOT GOIN’ TO GO THRU THIS AGAIN WITH YA!”
“Shut the hell up Bubba! I’ll do them when I’m ready!”
Why do they argue in front of the guests? My mind drifts to Helen’s prized possession: her fingernails. It’s my guess that she does not want to hurt or chip them in any way. Why doesn’t she wear gloves? I saw some there. I’ve used them myself before.
I decide to just hang out by the trailer, empty the holding tank, do dishes, clean windows, listen to music, and relax. The dogs are watching the world from the fenced area.
At 11:15 I walk to work. Terry is watering the flowers in front by the steps. Her head is down and her hair is covering her face. I have to walk past her.
“Hi Terry.” Terry looks up at me. Her cheek has a large bruise. She tries to smile. I have learned through the years that you cannot help those who choose to live in a violent relationship. You also cannot help those who are alcoholics either.
“Hi Denise.”
“Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?” I ask.
“Yeah, I was drunk and I fell off the steps of the trailer. Looks ugly huh?” She is lying, but it is not my job to be a counselor.
“Ouch! That must have hurt! Be careful. I’ve almost fallen from my steps too. I have to get in there now, so I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, see ya later.” Terry quietly replies.
I clock in and go straight to the grill. Bubba is making a chicken fried steak for someone. Helen is talking to a customer at a table.
“YA FORGOT TO EMPTY THE OIL DRIP PAN!” Bubba has something gooey stuck to his chin. The same goo is on the brim of his baseball cap.
“I know Bubba. I’m sorry about that.”
“I GOTTA GET OUTSIDE AND WORK ON THE SEWAGE PUMP. IT KEEPS BACKIN’ UP. LISTEN, DON’T LET THAT BITCH LEAVE WITHOUT DOIN’ THEM DISHES! THE COOK DOES NOT DO DISHES! REMEMBER THAT. KAREN WILL BE IN AFTER A BIT AND IF SHE SEES THOSE DISHES SHE’S GONNA KILL HER!”
I’m not sure if Bubba even remembers last night, or knows that I have seen Terry with the bruised face. At this moment, I don’t really care. I take over the lunch he was making, and the two other tickets hanging on the crown of thorns. He goes over to the tip jar and counts out his share, then gets himself a beer, stuffs Copenhagen in his cheek, and leaves.
I am too busy cleaning up the mess on the grill and cooking, to notice if Helen is doing dishes or not. I find the source of the goo. It is gravy, and it is splattered everywhere. It looks as if Bubba threw the ladle with a tremendous amount of force back into the pan of gravy, splashing it in every direction.
Helen places an order for a hamburger for herself on the wheel and goes over to clean up a few tables. I am concentrating on my job. Karen comes in, rounding the meat counter. I catch a glimpse of her face as she suddenly sees all the dishes and starts to turn purple in the face. She storms back to the register area, where Billy and Vi are now registering a guest. I hear her yelling to Billy about Helen and the unwashed dishes. She’s in a rage!
“As long as she is working here, I quit!” Karen says to Billy with her neck thrust forward and her chin raised.
“Now Karen, ya can’t make me choose between the two of ya, now can ya?” Billy says matter-of-factly.
“Oh yes I can. I quit!” Karen rams out the front door. Billy walks over to the kitchen. Helen is fixing up the hamburger that I cooked for her. Billy begins talking to Helen in a calm manner.
“Now listen here Helen. Ya gotta start doin’ them dishes. We’ve had this discussion before.”
“Billy you know I can’t! If I cut myself in the water, I’ll get blood poisoning remember? I can’t afford to go to the hospital again.” Blood poisoning, my ass! She is making up some stupid excuse, even I can tell that.
“Okay, here’s the deal. Karen just quit. Ya know how valuable she is ‘round here. I might just have to keep you up front at the register from now on.” Billy calmly explains.
“That’s where I want to be anyway Billy. You know that! I hate being a waitress!” Helen sounds childish.
“Okay, we’ll try that out for a while and see how it goes.”
Helen wraps up her hamburger, gets her tips, and leaves.
Billy is leaning on the meat counter in deep thought. She turns to me and begins talking. I am working on a French dip for someone out there. “I sure do hate confrontation! Never have been able to do that correctly. I expect everyone to work out their differences on their own, like adults!” Billy obviously does not recognize that the people she has hired may be all grown up, but they are not adults! I thought that bosses were supposed to handle these matters? Maybe Billy just can’t do that any more.
“Billy?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe you need a manager?” I suggest.
“Oh, I’ve tried that before. That guy was supposed to turn this place around. Well, everything got more screwed up than ever!” So much for my bright ideas.
Ray walks over to find out what all the commotion was about. He stands on the other side of the meat counter waiting to talk to Billy. She finishes up with my instructions for the day. “Well Denise, looks like yur gonna be on yur own today. Shouldn’t be too busy, so I have faith in ya to handle it all. Ray has a doctor’s appointment in Brandon. We’ll be gone for most of the day. Vi can help ya with any problems ya might have. I need ya to cook up that one sealed package of tri-tip before I have to throw it out. Cost a fortune. I’m sure it’s good. Think of a special for today. Make a soup for dinner if ya can. Sure am happy to have all yur help here. Ya know that, don’t ya?” Billy places her hand on my shoulder. I feel like a soldier in combat.
“Yes, Billy I sure do. I’m glad I can help out. Don’t worry about anything; I’ll make it through the day. Get going now, I have to serve this French dip before it gets cold.”
I pray that it stays fairly quiet in here today. After serving the French dip, I walk over to the dishes and fill the sinks with hot water. I keep my eye out for new customers and the ones that are finishing up their meal. Ruby walks in.
“Hi Denise. Where’s Billy?” Ruby’s hair needs to be washed.
“She and Ray went to the doctor today. I’m alone in the kitchen and have a million things to do. What’s ya need?”
“Well, I need some French rolls, some bacon, two tomatoes, and a twelve pack of beer.” I get the items for her. I’m not sure how this is supposed to be handled.
“My tab is in the small file box under the counter here.” Ruby points to the spot where we keep our tip jar. I pull it out and start to look.
“What name is it under?” I ask.
“John and Ruby.”
I find her thick stack of tabs. According to the dates, this goes back for several months, and could be hundreds of dollars or more. In fact, the whole file is so stuffed with this that I wouldn’t doubt that it is more like thousands of dollars! Some of the papers are even turning yellow from age.
“I know! Billy is too kind. Right?” Ruby says guiltily.
“You got that one right. I wrote it down. Nice to see you again. I have to get on with all I have to do. Take care.”
When Ruby walks away I find Little John’s tabs and Bubba’s tabs and countless others who Billy has let slide. If I were in charge here, which I’m not, I’d add all this up and make everyone accountable for their debts! I’d have my new door paid for in no time. I wonder who John, of John and Ruby is? Boyfriend perhaps.
I work on the dishes for twenty minutes or so; at least I now have room to put more dirty platters. There is still a mountain left, but I think I can do it all eventually.
The tri-tip is dated: Sell or freeze by June 25th. That’s today, perfect! I am going to make my Mom’s famous Spanish steak! It’s made with thin slices of tender steak, browned with onions and fresh garlic, then simmered in tomato soup, last but not least, you add lots of green olives stuffed with pimento. It’s served over a mound of mashed potatoes.
While the Spanish steak is simmering, and potatoes are boiling, I look for ideas in the cold storage room to make a soup. I find a large box of broccoli and decide on a broccoli cheese soup. By 4:30 I have most of the details of dinner ready, including a pile of pre-made hamburger patties ready to throw on the grill. The dishes are slowly but surely getting done in-between cooking. I go up to the front to ask Vi if she would keep her eye out on things for ten minutes while I let the dogs out and bring them a treat.
Upon my return, I see that she is seating a family of four. While they are looking at the menu, I quickly write my specials on the board, erasing Bubba’s mumbo jumbo about something dead. I decide to charge $7.95 for my special. The family is watching me do this and questions about the Spanish steak. The two adults would like to try it, and the kids want a grilled cheese sandwich and french fries.
I am excited about my special, and quite honestly, I am having fun being here by myself. I prepare the meals, adding to my special half an artichoke with a side of mayonnaise. A leaf of green lettuce with a slice of spiced apple laying pretty on top, and a sprig of parsley on top of the Spanish steak. I serve it to them. They seem pleased when they see it. Now, I hope they like it as well as my family always has. Another couple is seating themselves as I bring out the order. They are looking at what I am serving. They too would like to try it. This is fun!
It starts getting busy, and I feel like I am going in fifty directions at once. I take a deep breath and decide that I can only do what I can do, and to not get in a panic.
My family of four has gone and has eaten every bite of their dinners. When they left, they made a point to come and compliment the chef. I sell fifteen plates of my special, and almost all of the soup is gone. My pre-made hamburger patties paid off. It took no time at all to just throw them on the grill. Even old Henry came in and broke his habit of a New York steak and baked potato just to try my special. Henry is the man I first saw in here talking to Bubba. He comes in everyday. He is definitely flirting with me, but he is harmless and quite sweet.
As the place slowly empties of people, I am able to begin cleaning up the major mess on my hands. I dish up a large helping of Spanish steak for Vi and myself in to-go containers. The pan is now empty. I wrap up the last piece of banana cream pie for myself. I have been saving leftover meat for the dogs that goes with me too. Billy and Ray come back at 7:45 and look very tired. They go straight into their home area and shut the door. I hope everything is okay with them. Neither of them are very healthy, that’s for sure, but Ray is definitely in trouble! I wonder what those rough patches are on his arms that itch so bad.
The store and restaurant are now closed and locked up. It takes me until 9:30 to finish all the work I have to do. I leave the special board up, just my way of telling Bubba that I am doing fine in here. I count my tips; $110! Wow! I love it! As I am clocking out, Billy comes out holding a drink, smoking a cigarette, and dressed in her nightgown. I am slightly put back by the sight of Billy in a knee length nightgown with her manly build. She would be better off wearing men’s flannel pajamas. It would be more believable than that flowery pink nightgown.
“Vi tells me ya did real good today. And ya had a delicious special. Ya rang up $675 for lunch and dinner. Between the new RV guests, and the groceries, we did over $1500 in total. That’s really good! Proud of ya Denise. Ray and I are beat, so we’re heading to bed. See ya tomorrow.” Billy gives me a gentle hug. A hug she obviously needs right now. My return hug confirms to her that I care, I know, and I’m trying my best.
Outside the wind has picked up. Bubba is burning cardboard boxes and tiny sparks are flying high into the sky and then dissipating.
“HOW’D IT GO TODAY?” He hollers out to me.
I walk closer to Bubba so as not to shout, but not too close, the smoke and sparks are bothersome.
“It was actually great! I had a fun time tonight. Made a special, and sold all of it.”
“I WANNA TAKE YA TO A REAL PRETTY SPOT ON TOP OF THAT MOUNTAIN ONE DAY REAL SOON. IT’S MY SECRET SPOT. YA CAN SEE THE ENTIRE NATIONAL PARK FROM UP THERE.” Bubba is pointing to the mountains far beyond the RV park. I can see these mountains from the window of the fifth wheel. Bubba is also once again drunk. It almost looks like the sparks are actually hitting him in the face when he stuffs more cardboard into the split oil drum barbeque. I then notice the shotgun lying on the picnic bench next to his beer.
“I see you’re ready for the mountain lion.” I walk over and touch the gun.
“COUGAR! IT’S A DAMN COUGAR! AND DON’T TOUCH MY GUN!” Cougar, scooter, pork and cheese, blah, blah, blah. I’m too tired for this! All I want is to let the dogs out, and go eat. It’s so much later than I would ever eat dinner before. I’ve always had my dinner at around 5:00 for years, so that I could digest it before sleep. At least I can sleep in, maybe.
Bubba is all involved in the raging flames at the moment. I think he stuffed too many boxes in there. I walk away.
My poor puppies, I sure wouldn’t want to be trapped inside like this for ten hours! I do my best to soothe my guilt by walking them around outside for a little longer than I want or feel like, and then I eat my Spanish steak, which made with tender tri-tip, is out of this world delicious!
While eating, I notice my fingernails. They are becoming stained with grease, probably from grinding the grill. I know that I wash my hands at least a hundred times during my shift, before and after anything I do. Gawd! Is this permanent? It looks horrible! My wrists are sore. They used to get really sore from cleaning the whirlpool tubs at the inn, and changing those California king beds! Talk about a back breaker!
I change into some cozy sweats. The dogs leap under the covers. I suppose they are too anxious to really rest or relax during the day. At least they can jump onto the bench by the table and look out the windows while I am working and see some of the passing world.
The wind is whipping the canopy against the side of the trailer. I see the half moon through the skylight above my head. Sparks fly by.