Trevor lived in an old mobile home that was jacked way up on blocks because of occasional flooding in the neighborhood. As a result, there was ample room up under there for dogs, chickens, and small children. Sometimes two little boys from next door would sit up under there with their mongrel puppies and listen to the pipes. You could tell where someone was in the trailer by the water running in the kitchen sink or the toilet flushing. This was great fun on lazy summer afternoons when there was nothing else to do.
Trevor’s wife, Mavis, was a great big woman who stomped when she walked and bumped into things when she was drinking beer. The kids loved it when this happened. On top of that, Mavis just loved drama. She was always feuding with one of the neighbors and hollering insults into the phone and out the windows. Chickens, dogs, and children would head for the woods when this happened. They knew to stay out of the way. She had once thrown a whole pot full of burnt turnip greens out the back door. It hit the pecan tree, bounced back, and rolled up under the trailer, hot and steaming, right past them.
It was on one of those long, boring days that Mavis had one of her major hissy fits. She kept the whole neighborhood in an uproar until way past dinner time. She had been washing clothes that day and found a rhinestone earring in one of Trevor’s pockets. She immediately called Sally, her crony, and told her what she had just found. “I knew he was cheating around when I seen him brush his teeth and put on clean socks the very same day,” Mavis speculated.
Those little boys couldn’t wait to run home and tell their mother what was happening at Trevor’s place. And their mother couldn’t wait to get on the phone and call all her friends, who would repeat the story after adding their own embellishments. Pretty soon, the whole neighborhood was buzzing with guesses about who the mystery woman was.
Then, Mavis stomped down the steps and got in the truck, cussing at the top of her lungs the whole way. She left in a cloud of gray dust, with more cussing echoing off the pine trees. Trevor was at the hardware store downtown when his buddy ran in and told him that Mavis was out hunting for him and his girlfriend, madder than a rooster with a muzzle on.
“Girlfriend?” asked Trevor, pleased at the thought.
“Let’s get you outa here!” said his buddy.
Meanwhile, Mavis was making the rounds of the bars in town, asking questions and chugging down beer. Trevor was happy to hide out at his buddy’s house until Mavis cooled off.
By five o’clock that afternoon, Mavis gave up the search and went back home to her trailer. The two boys and four of their friends were eagerly waiting below. And, sure enough, Mavis began throwing Trevor’s stuff into the yard, hollering that if he didn’t come get it, she’d set it on fire. Phones were ringing all up and down the street, and most of the women were already sitting out on their front porches so they could see better. It wasn’t long before Sally showed up with some more beer, happily anticipating the quarrel when Trevor finally showed up.
“Look out! Here comes another pair of work boots!” one of the boys yelled as the boots came flying out the door.
By this time, all of the chickens were up in the trees and clucking loudly. The dogs would bark in chorus whenever something else came crashing down into the yard. Next, a few more women showed up to commiserate and offer
suggestions as to who Tevor’s ‘hussy’ was. “What I want to know is who would want to get close to Trevor in the first place. He always smells like dirty socks!” hooted one.
“And I like the way he always combs those three hairs over the top of his head,” added another.
“Watch it!” warned Mavis.
It was after midnight when everyone got sleepy and went home. Mavis finally got in bed and turned off the light, still thinking about Trevor’s ‘affair’. And poor Trevor had to sneak into his own yard, staying in the shadows and tripping over his belongings. Quietly, slowly, he ascended the front steps and softly opened the door. Inside, it was dark and still. He sat down in his recliner and swiftly fell asleep.
When he awoke, Mavis was standing over him, hands on her hips, and looking dangerously close to exploding. But after he reassured her several times that he did not have a girlfriend and didn’t know how the earring got into his pocket, she finally calmed down and went into the kitchen to fix breakfast.
Meanwhile, the boys had positioned themselves under the trailer in a spot where they could hear real good. Earlier, one of the boys had crept around there and stuck one of his sister’s lipsticks into Trevor’s jeans that were out on the back porch, next to the washing machine. Pretty soon, another little boy showed up and began playing ‘doodle-bug’. “What yu’all gonna do today?”
“Nothing,” they giggled. “Guess we’ll just sit up under this trailer and be bored!”
