Trailer Trash

Chapter 1-3

Dezi felt bad. He knew what his father would do in this situation, but then he was one of those unfeeling types whose humanity had been numbed by money. He’d seen him lie, cheat, steal, and do anything he could to get his own way, but hell, Dezi just didn’t have it in him to follow in his footsteps. “Look, man, I can’t take your home away from you. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll get it out of here for you. There’s a trailer park not too far up the highway. I’ll go there, get you a spot, and we’ll move you in.”

“But that’ll take money. Why would you want to…?” He hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Oh, yeah.”

“I’m not doing it for that, Rox. Hell, I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, and you need help. It’s as simple as that. You’ve had a tough go of it, and if I can help, I’m glad to.”

“You mean you’d do all this without expecting anything in return?”

“Of course. And you’ll be hooked up to the utilities. You’ll have running water and anything else you need. To hell with the Texaco station on the corner. If this trailer is your home, then we have to get it in shape.”

“All this for nothing,” Rox repeated as if he couldn’t quite believe him.

“Well, I’m not stupid. If it’s okay with you, we’ll let nature take its course.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not demanding anything, Rox, but I like you, and if you like me, who’s to say we won’t click? Let’s just pretend nothing like a proposition ever came out of my mouth, and start all over.” He stood to his feet, put out his hand, and said, “Hi, I’m Dezi Falconi. I live in downtown Austin, Texas, and I’m glad to know you.”

Rox gave him a tentative smile, took Dezi’s hand, and said, “I’m Rox Forrester. I’m dirt poor and live in a trashy trailer on somebody else’s land. I’m glad to know you, too.”

As they stood looking at each other, Dezi gave Rox’s naked hand a little squeeze, making even the flesh of their palms feel like two naked bodies pressing together. As they stared at each other, Dezi could feel the natural heat of their flesh turning to the heat of passion, and he hesitated to let go when Rox tried to pull away.

“Remember. No pressure,” Rox whispered again as he slowly withdrew his hand.

Dezi smiled. “No pressure.”

Rox smiled. “Maybe that knot on the head did you some good, rich boy.”

“It’s easy to help someone like you, trailer tra…” Suddenly Dezi caught himself and said, “Sorry. I meant…Rox.”

“I know, and thanks.”

“Say, how did you ever get a name like Rox?”

Rox laughed. “Believe it or not, I’m about one-fifth Jamaican on my father’s side, and I was named after a Jamaican rock singer.”

“Jamaican? That’s a stretch. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a blond-haired Jamaican.”

Rox shrugged, and with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he looked over at Dezi and said, “It must have been the milkman.”

When the two men laughed together, Dezi noticed Rox’s smile, and it was just as he had expected. For the first time he saw his teeth, and he could have sworn he saw them twinkle like they did in the movies. Was this guy for real, or did he just step down off some movie screen?