Trailer Trash(14)

Cody’s heart did the same funny little dance every time. He tried not to get his hopes up too high—it was only until school started—but like his mom with her drinks, he chose to take what happiness he could when the opportunity presented itself. When they got tired of playing cards, they drove around town. They even stopped at a yard sale and picked up an eight-track tape for fifteen cents, just to test the player in Nate’s Mustang. It turned out it still worked, and after that, Nate stopped at every yard sale he found in search of more. Cody couldn’t help counting those coins as Nate handed them over, thinking how he could have put them to better use, but it was Nate’s money, and it made the afternoons a bit more fun. They ended up with a ridiculous collection—everything from KISS to the Bee Gees to the soundtrack from Pete’s Dragon—but it was better than the country station out of Casper and the static that filled the rest of the radio bands.

His mom was watching him now, waiting for him to elaborate on his answer. “Maybe I’ll go tomorrow.” The truth was, there was a better store in Rock Springs, but he hadn’t worked up the nerve yet to ask Nate for a ride.

His mom went back to watching TV, but a minute later, she ground her cigarette out and stood up. As she passed him, heading to the kitchen, presumably to scrounge up something to eat, she laid a bundle of folded bills on the coffee table in front of him.

Cody’s heart sank a bit.

She didn’t say a word. Just opened the fridge, pulled out a beer, then stood there staring in, the unopened beer in one hand while she contemplated their severe lack of food.

Cody licked his lips, debating. Leaving it lying there wouldn’t change what had been done. He picked it up and unfolded the small bundle with shaking hands. It was more money than his mom should have made waiting tables. He closed his eyes, trying to find his center. Trying to find that quiet place inside of him where he didn’t have to feel anything.

He wished he’d never made a big deal out of it. He wished he’d never even mentioned his clothes not fitting.

Too late now.

The money felt dirty in his hands. He imagined he could feel its taint seeping into his flesh, leaking into his bloodstream, rushing headlong for his heart. He didn’t want these crumpled, fading bills, but telling her would only make him look even more ungrateful.

He opened his eyes, trying to feign an innocence he didn’t feel. “Where’d you get this?”

“I had a good night.” Punctuated by the click-fizz of her popping the tab on her beer.

Cody’s bile rose, and he forced himself to take slow, even breaths. He was torn—grateful for the money, but ashamed of it. Embarrassed for her, annoyed at himself, angry at his no-good father for forcing their hands.

“Mom . . .” He wanted to say, I’m sorry. He wanted to say, You don’t have to do what I think you did. But her back was rigid as she stared resolutely into the fridge, and Cody said the only thing he could. “Thank you.”

“Don’t blow it on records.”

Cody couldn’t remember the last time he’d bought music of any kind. That was a luxury he’d long ago learned to live without, Nate’s sudden infatuation with eight-tracks notwithstanding. “I won’t.”

He slid it into his back pocket, trying to let go of his misgivings. Maybe she’d been saving up for a while. Maybe there’d been a really big table, or one high-roller who liked the way his mom smiled.

Anything was possible.

Anything was better than the truth.



When Nate wandered into the field the next day, he found Cody sullen—even moodier than usual, and that was saying a lot. Nate didn’t tell him about the encounter with the Grove clique. He knew bringing it up would only drive Cody deeper into his anger. Cody expected him to fall into line with that group once school started, and although he couldn’t quite picture it, he kept hearing their voices in his head.

He’s a loser.

He’s worthless trailer trash.

Nate studied his class ring, remembering the second day he’d spent with Cody, and his assertion that there was no escaping Warren, Wyoming. What if he was right? What if this really was a black hole nobody managed to leave? Nate felt like he could barely breathe, just thinking about it. School was only four days away, and he was dreading it more than ever.

“There must be something around here we can do,” he said at last. “Besides shooting things, I mean.”

Cody shrugged as he ground his cigarette out against the side of the wagon. There was a pretty substantial black mark there from all the times he’d done it in the past. “I don’t know. There’s the places I told you—City Drug, and the bowling alley.” He looked down at the toes of his shoes. “I can take you to the bowling alley, but no way in hell I’m going where all the preps hang out.”