Serpent's Trail

"So help me God, we fuck this meeting up because of your God damned kids," John hissed.

John left a strip of rubber as he left the driveway. Speeding out of the neighborhood, John had to slam on the brakes when he nearly collided with a slow moving car.

"John, meeting's not worth getting us all killed for, huh?" Rhonda screamed.

On the third of the month, Rhonda received a check for eight hundred dollars. The checks arrived every third of the month, unless the third was on a Sunday, or a holiday. Then the check arrived on the second of the month.

MOVING OUT FROM UNDER A ROCK

"God, do I have to?" Mike heard Michelle whine.

He had also heard Mickey's sullen "What? Why?"

Ending the call, Mike sat at the table and for the first time since his mother's death, he cried. He put his head onto his folded arms and sobbed.

Ten minutes, ten hours later, he wasn't sure, Mike roused himself. Sluggishly, he got to his feet and looked around. Rhonda had already picked the house clean of anything of real monetary value. All that remained had some sentimental value.

And Michelle and Mickey's reaction to a simple request, that they spend some time with him on his birthday had erased much of the sentimental value of any remaining items.

The consignment shop was happy to take much of the furniture. They even appreciated that Mike had loaded it all into his F250 and brought it to them. The battered old recliner, they politely declined. Because of health concerns, they had to decline the mattresses as well.

The dolls, the super hero action figures, the roller skates and ice skates, they were sure would go quickly. As it was, a customer was already poring through one of the boxes.

Lyle Curtis let a few real expletives slip when Mike told him he was leaving Raquel Falls, was leaving Colorado. The two men shared a manly hug and a few of the crew also shook Mike's hand, or gave him hugs as well.

"Where you going go?" a few asked as they looked at the travel trailer hitched to his truck.

"Probably south," Mike shrugged. "I mean, it's still summer now, but man, tired of freezing my boys off in the winter, you know?"

"What? Ain't like you using them anyway," one of the men said and Mike smiled and shook his head.

Barbara Trenton named a reasonable retainer fee and agreed to act as power of attorney in the sale of his home. The Gold Standard real estate agent had been out to the home and had assured Mike she could easily get one thirty, possibly even one forty for the home, despite the recent housing market collapse. Because Mike had paid for the home fully, the full sales price, minus the agent's commission would go into his account.

The real estate agent upgraded her thoughts after Lyle Curtis had a crew go to Mike's house and repaint the entire home and put in new carpet throughout the house.

"We'll list it for one sixty," she enthused when Mike answered his cell phone.

"Okay," Mike said, having no idea that Lyle had done what he'd done.

Mike Morrison picked up the decree of divorce in Oakleaf, Texas. To celebrate, Mike went to Tijuana Jack's, had a half pound burger, some very spicy fries and two ice cold draft beers. He even had a fifty dollar lap dance from an innocent faced red head with pneumatic breasts.

Mike had no trouble finding work. Scandurro Construction called Lyle Curtis, Lyle confirmed that Mike was not only as good as he claimed, he was actually better than he claimed to be. The pay was good, the work was steady and the crew knew what they were doing.

But the nights were long. Working from seven in the morning until three in the afternoon, four in the afternoon if they had a deadline to meet kept Mike busy. But the moment the boss called the end to the day and everyone else went home, Mike was again reminded that he had no home. He was living in his travel trailer, in a RV park.

Mike took to remaining after, just to clean up the site. He'd gather all the nails, the scrap boards, sweep up the sawdust, the metal filings.

"Mike, day's over," Joe Tonacetti said quietly one afternoon.

"Uh huh," Mike said, sweeping the concrete foundation.

"Wife's got her world famous meatloaf and red gravy. Why you don't come on over?" Joe said.

"Thanks, but I think I'll..." Mike said.

"Man! Hurts my feelings, you going say no to Catherine Marie's meatloaf?" Joe said.

"Need run on home, take a shower," Mike said after a long moment.

"Then do it," Joe ordered. "Live at twelve seventeen Ferguson Drive, hear?"

"Okay," Mike agreed.

The home was a fairly large home among other fairly large homes. The neighborhood reminded Mike of the neighborhood in Raquel Falls, Colorado. He again felt the pangs of homesickness as he parked on the curb.

Catherine Marie Tonacetti was a French Canadian. Where Joe was dark and lanky, Catherine Marie was plump and pale. But the two seemed to be in constant contact with one another. They touched hands, they patted one another, their hips rubbed against one another.

Joe sat at the head of the table, Catherine Marie sat to his right. Their oldest child, a twenty year old daughter sat to Joe's left. To the left of Antoinette 'Toni' Tonacetti sat Joey, Joe's fifteen year old son. To Catherine Marie's right sat Cheryl, the seventeen year old daughter.

Toni looked almost identical to her mother, but Joey and Cheryl looked a great deal like Joe, except both Joey and Cheryl did pack on a few extra pounds.

The meal was a loud, raucous affair. The only sedate moment was when Joe said the prayer. Mike found out that Joey was on the football team of Saints Peter & Paul High School. Cheryl was already a senior at Sacred Ascension and planned to go to the University of Louisiana at DeGarde, planning to major in Biosynthetic Engineering.

"Must get it from her momma, Mike," Joe smiled proudly. "Damned sure don't get it from her old man."

"Toni, you're mighty quiet," Catherine Marie asked.

"I uh, I'm starting my last year of college; education," Toni mumbled, not looking up from her broccoli and cheese.

"Comes home from her first day of kindergarten, says 'I'm going be a teacher,' and ain't never thought being nothing else," Joe bragged.

Mike thought of Michelle. She'd decided she was going be an Olympic skier, until she found out they didn't really make a great deal of money, and had to train daily. Then she decided she was going to be a doctor, but decided, after a few weeks, that being a doctor was too hard. The last thing Mike remembered Michelle saying she wanted to be was a meteorologist; the weather girl on their local station was a gorgeous but ditzy young woman.

"You don't even have know what you're doing; she just reads everything off a computer screen," Michelle claimed.

"Need good teachers," Mike agreed. "Remember what it was made you decide you was going be a teacher?"

"I uh, Miss Davis was so pretty and she was so smart," Toni looked up finally, smiling. "She talked all about the world outside of Texas and..."

"There ain't no world outside Texas, Toni," Joe interrupted. "Hate tell you this, but Miss Davis lied."

"...when I asked her how to be a teacher, she told me I had to really want it, and I had do real good in school," Toni said, swatting her father's arm.

"Valedictorian at Sacred Ascension, been on the Dean's List every semester," Catherine Marie bragged.

"Do you have any kids, Mr. Mike?" Toni asked, fixing Mike with her clear green eyes.

"I got, had two," Mike said, losing his smile.

"Had?" Joey asked, giggling. "Lost them somewhere?"

Toni slapped her brother on the back of his head, hard.

"Hey!" Joey cried out.

"Kind of did," Mike answered. "Divorce."

"Sorry," Joey mumbled, chastened.

Shortly after the dishes had been cleared away, Mike yawned, then laughed and apologized. He thanked Catherine Marie for having him at her table, wished Toni, Joey and Cheryl a good night, then surprised Joe by gripping the man in a powerful hug.

"Been a while, Joe," he said. "Been a while since I sat at a kitchen table like that."

The next day, Joe gave no indication that Mike had been a guest at his home. He barked orders, he pointed, he yelled. And at three o'clock he called an end to the day.

Mike stayed behind and cleaned up the area. He was disappointed when Joe didn't come back, didn't order him to join him and his family for another meal. Tijuana Jack's served Mike a juicy burger and an ice cold draft.

On Friday, Joe barked orders, he yelled, he pointed. At two thirty, he handed out pay checks.

"Tomorrow night? Catherine Marie's making this stuff? Calls it Jambalaya," Joe said after everyone else had scattered.

"What time you want me there?" Mike asked.

"Six," Joe said. "But hey, uh, tonight? Joey's playing; why you don't come?"

Mike sat on hard bleachers and clapped and whistled for Saints Peter & Paul. St. Andrew soundly trounced the home team, but it was an energetic field. Toni sat next to Mike during the game, dressed in cutoff denim shorts and a Saints Peter & Paul football jersey. She touched him on his hand, his arm, a few times on his thigh. Her chubby leg brushed against his leg often.

At five o'clock Saturday afternoon, Mike went to Burns & Burns Supermarket and bought a nice Strawberry Shortcake. He then drove around, trying to kill time. Finally, he pulled onto Ferguson Drive and parked in front of the house.

"Hey, Mr. Mike," Cheryl smiled when she opened the door. "Dad! Mr. Mike's here!"

"Going make him stand outside?" Joe asked.

"Well, no," Cheryl said.

"Then move your butt out the way, let him in," Joe teased his daughter.

Catherine Marie accepted the cake, complaining that she didn't need cake. She thanked him again as she placed it into the refrigerator.

"But I really don't need it," Catherine Marie said, patting her slight paunch.

"Then don't eat it," Joe suggested.

"Oh! But that would be so rude. He is our guest and he brings us a cake and I don't eat it?" Catherine Marie smiled.

"Uh huh," Joe smiled as he hugged her from behind.

"Joe! We have a guest," Catherine Marie complained as Joe's hands went underneath her heavy breasts.

"Mike, turn around, huh? This won't take but a minute," Joe ordered.

"Joe! Leave me alone," Catherine Marie squealed then giggled.

"They do that all the time," Toni said, rolling her eyes.

"What married people supposed do," Mike smiled.

Toni's blush was quite adorable. The twenty year old turned and left the kitchen.

"Where you going? Supper's just 'bout ready," Joe called out.

"My room," Toni called back.

"How 'bout you set the table?" Joe ordered.

"Hey, I can do that," Mike said.

"What? You our guest," Joe said.

"No, first time I was a guest. Second time? I'm a member of the family," Mike said. "Now, which one has the plates?"

Toni showed up after Mike opened the cabinet. Together, she and Mike set the table. She then grabbed a handful of knives and forks. Mike quickly folded six paper towels into squares and she put the silverware down onto the napkins.

"I'll let you get the glasses and ice," Mike said.

"Hey, Mr. Mike," Joey said. "Man, we played like dog poop last night, huh?"

"Thought you guys played fine," Mike smiled. "Too bad other team came to win, huh?"

"Man! Talk about, huh? Timmy Elmont? Their running back? Man!" Joey agreed.

Mike found out that jambalaya, as Catherine Marie made it, was just chopped up pieces of chicken and pork sausage mixed together with rice and simmered in a covered skillet with a can of diced tomatoes and finely chopped onions and bell peppers. There was a healthy amount of cayenne pepper added for extra kick and Mike fought hard against making a pig of himself.

"Ooh, you brought dessert?" Joey whooped when Catherine Marie mentioned the strawberry shortcake.

"Yes, but I don't need it," Catherine Marie again stated.

"Good. More for me," Joey declared.

"Son, got a lot learn about women," Mike said, smiling.

Sunday was a long day for Mike. He'd never been particularly religious so did not attend any church service. He knew football well enough to follow it, but wasn't wild about any team, even the Denver Broncos. He tried to sleep a little later than normal, but soon gave up and got up. He didn't bother taking a shower; just dressed in shorts and tee shirt and sneakers and left the travel trailer. Some of the neighbors in the Mobile park waved in greeting, others did not. Mike walked for a few miles, until he came to Oxbow Lake. There, he saw a few others that were of the same temperament as himself. They were not in church, they were not glued to a television set. They were not willing to stay indoors, alone with their thoughts.

One young lady caught his attention. She was a stunning blonde whose skin was nearly brown, she was so tanned. She lay on her back, impressive breasts jutting skyward in a top that was barely more than a belt across her nipples. The bottom half was another belt of fabric across her slightly bony hips, her crotch covered by a thin string of fabric. She peered around herself, eyes hidden by sunglasses. But she was obviously looking around to see if anyone was looking at her. The young woman was making sure she had an audience, a throng of admirers.

But no one was paying her any attention. They were busy with their Frisbee game, busy with their beach ball, busy with their own tans.

"That's how I feel too," Mike said when the attractive blonde visibly slumped.

Monday morning, Mike and Carlos completed the trim work. Now, there was nothing to do while the painters slapped on a coat of primer, slapped on a coat of stark white demi gloss, the electricians did their rough ins. Carlos shrugged with Mike grabbed broom and dustpan.

"Hey, Morrison," Joe hollered.

"Yeah?" Mike asked.

"My Toni? Wants know if you're coming over for dinner tonight," Joe snapped, face hard.

"I uh, I guess," Mike said, puzzled at Joe's tone, Joe's expression.

"Man, listen, huh? She's only twenty, huh?" Joe snapped. "She's half old as you."

"Hey, hey, nuh uh, Joe, I ain't done nothing," Mike protested.

Joe stared at him, hard. Then Joe turned on his heel and started yelling orders at the sheetrock men that were slowly taping the seams.

"Come on, come on, need roll these walls, huh?" he barked.

Mike shrugged, leaned broom and dustpan against the doorjamb and left the job site. The project was finished as far as his work was concerned. He could stick around, do the cleanup, the touch up work, those last little odds and ends before a business could move in. Or he could leave that work to Carlos and Carlos's cousin Phillippe.

SLITHERING AND CRAWLING

Barbara Trenton looked over the receipts, rapidly tapped on the keypad of her computer keyboard and nodded her head. She then turned her attention to Rhonda.

"So, half of..." she started.

"I uh, there any way you could, uh, chip in a little more?" Rhonda whined.

Barbra fought down the wince; Rhonda's voice grated on her nerves. The attorney studied the attractive woman for a moment, then shook her head.

"Divorce was pretty cut and dry," Barbara snapped. "Four hundred a month per minor child and half of medical and education expenses."

"Yeah, but, I mean, car died, had to get a new one and..." Rhonda complained.

"Mrs. Piercy," Barbara started.

"It's Morrison," Rhonda snapped.

"Hmm. Interesting," Barbara quipped. "Mrs. Morrison, Your failure to plan? Is not my client's concern."

"And where is your client, huh?" Rhonda demanded. "Missed Michelle's birthday..."

"We sent her a birthday card," Barbara stated. "Sent a ten dollar gift card for Benny's Burger Bar with it."

Barbara's personal assistant brought the printed check in and Barbara signed the check. She slid the check across the desk to Rhonda Piercy, or Morrison. Barbara then placed the receipts into the plastic grocery bag Rhonda had used to carry the receipts into the office.

"Thank you, Mrs. Piercy, I apologize, Mrs. Morrison," Barbara said, returning her attention to her computer monitor.

"So Michelle's braces?" Rhonda snapped.

"What? Michael A. Morrison, Sr. has paid his half for those. He has paid his half for Michael A. Morrison Jr.'s soccer camp. He has paid his half for the dental visits," Barbara said.

"Could you at least tell me how get in touch with him?" Rhonda pleaded.

"No," Barbara said icily and again turned her attention to her computer monitor.

"Bitch, I hope one day you have kids of your own and have to put up with a bitch like you," Rhonda snapped.

"Have three of my own, raised them on my own after my husband left us, and did just fine," Barbara replied, typing on her keyboard.

"Gee, I wonder why your husband left you," Rhonda sniped.

"Found a selfish little slut that didn't threaten his male ego by earning her own way in life," Barbara said, still typing. "But don't worry. After she bled him dry? Tried to come back, all apologies and sweetness and it'll never happen again."

A WARM PLACE IN THE SUN

"Hello?" Mike answered his cell phone.

"Now Catherine Marie's asking if you coming to dinner," Joe's voice snapped. "It's chicken Cacciatore, or what she thinks is chicken Cacciatore. Ain't nothing like my momma used make, that's for sure."

"I uh, I don't think so, but..." Mike said.

"You don't come, I'm in deep trouble," Joe said. "Six o'clock, hear?"

Mike pulled up to the home, making sure not to block the driveway with the travel trailer. Toni answered the door, smiling up at him.

Then she saw the shining trailer behind Mike. Her green eyes opened wide.

"Oh! You're going camping?" she asked, smiling.

"No. Moving on," Mike admitted.

Toni jerked her head and looked at Mike's hard face. Her eyes filled with tears and she dashed into the dark interior of the house.

"What the... Catherine Marie, what's wrong with her?" Joe demanded. "Come on in, Mike, letting all the cold out, huh?"

Catherine Marie greeted Mike with a smile. Joey had already set the table and Cheryl was grabbing the glasses

"Toni! It's ready!" Catherine Marie yelled out as she served out the meal.

"Toni!" Catherine Marie demanded a moment later as she took her seat at the table.

"Antoinette Catherine Marie Tonacetti!" Catherine Marie yelled as she stood up.

"She uses your full name, you know you're in trouble," Joey said to Mike.

"Then don't tell her my full name," Mike joked.

"I'll go get her," Cheryl offered.

"Joe, say 'Grace,' I'll go get her," Catherine Marie ordered.

The four people hesitated. When Joe started eating, then Cheryl, Joey, and Mike started to eat as well.

A moment later, two plump, beautiful blonde women came into the kitchen and took their seats. Both women had reddened eyes.

"So, Mike, why you leaving?" Catherine Marie demanded.

"I uh, I mean, the job's done, right?" Mike stammered as Joe's head jerked up from his plate.

"We just started rolling it today," Joe said.

"But my job's done," Mike pointed out. "Framing's done."

"Uh huh, but we fixing start on Great Oak National Bank Monday after next," Joe argued.

"Mister, Mike, Michael, please stay," Toni whispered, staring intently at her plate.

She swiveled her head. Her green eyes were swimming in tears. She mouthed 'please' at him, then looked at her plate again.

SHEDDING SKIN

Rhonda Morrison looked up and down Roberts Drive. The homes in this section of the Texas town were stunning.

"Eighteen, eighteen, eighteen oh nine," Rhonda muttered, stopping the rental car in front of the red brick home.

"Uh huh," Rhonda smirked, seeing the shiny travel trailer on the side of the house.

When Mike had bought that monstrosity, she had demanded that he pour a concrete pad for it; she wasn't having dead grass patches, or weeds overgrown around something that they'd never ever in a million years actually use.