Drifting Down

[paradoxical]

I never thought I would live in a trailer park. Not that I'm rich or anything, but I've always made decent money. I never imagined that I would be living in Texas, either. I moved here from Charlotte, North Carolina to take a job as an electrician, but I wound up staying because of Michelle. I always hate telling people how we met, but the truth is we met on the phone lines. You know, those numbers you can call and talk to other singles.

Things were pretty good during my first year in Texas. I wasn't drinking as much and I got along okay with everyone at work, which is something I usually have a problem with. All of my trouble started during my second year down here, when I began working jobs on the side for cash. That's also when I met Michelle. My drinking was starting to get a little out of control again. To be honest, I was so drunk most nights that I don't remember any of our conversations.

I don't even know how we started talking, but I do remember our first date. We met for the first time at a Burger King. I was sober then. She was fat, to be blunt, and had sounded thin on the phone. She was extremely shy and I guess the best thing I could say about her was that she had nice hair. Long, blonde hair that she obviously spent a great deal of time on. I enjoyed talking to her, though, and we stayed until the place was closing.

We had decided to meet up the following night. I was supposed to pick her up at her place but she was having trouble explaining how to get there. So, she asked me if I would follow her home and that way I could see where she lived, which turned out to be this trailer park off of Highway 62. I had been in trailer parks before. Even had friends and family who lived in trailers, but this one was different. Most of the trailers were pretty run down. There were guys standing outside drinking, watching us as we drove up to her trailer. Nobody seemed to keep up their property and I could tell right away that most of the residents were completely broke.

We kissed goodnight, but that's all that happened. I got in my truck and drove home. We started going out, taking it slow at first and then things began to get more serious. We had been together for about three months when it happened. I burned down a ladies trailer. I was working a job for cash one weekend, installing a water heater for this woman who lived in a trailer down the street from Michelle. I was pretty drunk and I messed up the wiring. Later that night, it caught fire and although she wasn't hurt, her trailer was destroyed. It was awful. I had to give a statement to the police, and of course my work found out. Word got out that it was alcohol-related and they started to suspect that I had a drinking problem.

I still had a job then, and my own apartment, but what I didn't realize is that my manager had begun following me when I took the van out on jobs. He found out that I was buying one, sometimes two 24oz Bud Lites on my lunch break. So, I was fired and, after not paying rent for two months, was kicked out of my place. That's how I wound up living with Michelle. Now, I had a feeling when we met that she would put up with my drinking, and that turned out to be true. She really didn't expect too much. Just having a man around was enough for her, someone to talk to. I applied for a few jobs at first, after I was turned down for unemployment. Then I gave up. She never said anything about that, either.

I don't think she would even mind all that much if I cheated on her, but that's not my style, and I think she knows that. Unless you count alcohol, because God knows I put that first. She's okay with it, though. She knows that all I'm going to do is sit on the couch and drink. The only thing I don't like about this place is all the cats. When you walk in the door, the smell from all the litter boxes hits you. She buys those Glade plugins to try to cover up the odor but it just makes it worse. I really can't complain, though. Her place could use some work. There's no wallpaper, just bare particle board. It needs some paint, some molding and trim work to make it look better. Maybe someday I'll get around to it, but I doubt it. It really doesn't bother me.

Plus I still have my truck, and I know that someday I'm going to have to get back out on the road. Maybe next year. I have a cousin up in Lexington, Kentucky and I'm thinking about heading up that way to try to find work. Until then, I'm not going to mess up a good thing. She makes good money; she only stays here because the trailer is paid off. She makes enough to keep me in beer and whiskey, that's for sure. I spend most of my time in the bedroom because she has the windows blacked out and it's real dark in there. I love that, especially when I'm hungover. I lie on the bed with my beer and the country music station on and just drift down into that darkness.

[dizzydoll]

So it was an April Fools Prank then? :wink5:

[unexplained sam]

I like it cause it honest, A little depressing, but thats what makes it interesting. Good work. :smilewinkgrin:http://www.online-literature.com/forums/images/smilies/smilewinkgrin.gif

[Rores28]

I thoroughly enjoyed this. It didn’t blow my mind but I think it was evocative in the way you meant it to be. I totally bought the character and I think you captured his voice well. Below are two passages that I thought you might reconsider his wording. Nice work.

Most of the trailers were in really bad condition. There were groups of young men standing outside drinking, watching us sternly as we drove up to her trailer.

“Most of the trailers were pretty beat up/run down. There were groups of young men standing outside drinking, and watching us as we drove up to her trailer”

Then she buys these Glade plugins to try to cover up the acrid odor but it just makes it worse.

Here I don’t get the impression that the word acrid is in your characters active vocabulary, sure he probably knows what it means but I don’t think he’d use it.

“The she buys the Glade plugins to try to cover up the stinging odor but it just makes it worse.”

[Steven Hunley]

This was so good. I liked it's tone and conversation style. It's something that's hard to achieve. It's Americana narrated by an American. Euros couldn't write about this if they wanted to. Well done. (by the way, the disclaimer at the end? totally unnecessary) Let'um guess.

[paradoxical]

Thanks for the awesome feedback. That's why I keep posting here, it helps me improve my writing and encourages me to keep going. I made some changes based on your suggestions, and I think it's an even better story now.

[lallison]

This was awesome! I loved it. The narrative voice was really well developed and darkly comical. It reminds me a bit of the narrator in Lolita because he seems so likable and believable, yet for the actions he describes, he shouldn't be.

I half want to suggest making the story longer and delving deeper into his screw ups. Its a narrator I could definitely stand to listen to for longer. But the story is pretty complete with what you have here.

Thanks for the read.

[paradoxical]

Well, I don't think it's quite as good as the first, but here's another installment of the misadventures of our humble protagonist. I will also try to write a third part. I probably won't write anything after that, but I'd like to do one more.




Alcoholics Anonymous really sucks. Thank God I'm done with all that. When I moved from Dallas to Beaumont, someone had told me that the cops were real bad here, but I didn't believe them. Now I know. I got pulled over my first week here. I was charged with driving under the influence and having an open container. I used to always drive with an open beer, especially on my way home from work. I had to go to AA meetings for six months. Let me tell you, it wasn't easy, but it's better then jail.

Sometimes I think about calling Michelle to try and patch things up, but why bother? I've been down here for a little over six months and I only moved here because Michelle's brother-in-law set me up with a job in a machine shop. It's owned by some people he knows. The plan was for me to come here and work for a while and then either Michelle would move to Beaumont to be with me, or I would go back up to Dallas once I got some experience as a machinist and try to find a job in a shop up there. You see, I lost my electricians licensce so I can't do that anymore. That's something that I really don't want to talk about.

I had a feeling that I wouldn't like working in a machine shop, I like to move around too much. So if I can get this DUI off my driving record, I plan on going to this truck driving school in Louisiana. I have some money saved up, and I'd love to drive an 18-wheeler. One of the guys in AA told me that he got a DUI taken off his record and now he's driving a truck short haul. If that doesn't work out, I think I might try to get a loan and open up a bar. I think that would be a good way to make money, but I'm really not sure what I'm going to do.

Michelle broke up with me because of this girl named Tammy. I met her at this Waffle House where I used to eat almost every night. Well, somebody at work must have found out and I guess they told her brother-in-law about it. She didn't believe it at first, but when I was up there for the weekend she got hold of my cell phone and went through my recent calls. Almost every one was from Tammy. I never even thought of that, otherwise I would have left my phone in Beaumont. But she would have found out somehow. You can't outsmart a woman.

It turns out that Tammy was married so now I don't have her, either. I mostly keep to myself. For awhile, I would go drink with some of the guys after work but I've always been kind of a lone wolf. It's not that I dislike people, I just don't talk much and I've always been real big on privacy. People always start asking a lot of questions about things that are none of their business. There's plenty of nice women down here in Beaumont but I'm really not interested anymore. It's all too much trouble.

When I first moved here I lived in this cheap motel for three months. The kind where you pay by the week. Now I have my own place but I don't want anybody coming here. I don't even want a dog because when it's time for me to pick up and move, I want to be able to clear out fast. I'm okay by myself. I pick up a 12 pack every day after work. I like to relax and drink beer, that's what the people in AA don't understand. I drink because I want to, not because I have to. I need to figure out what I'm going to do, I know that. And you could say that my life is kind of messed up, but I'm only 39. There's still plenty of time.

I have friends back home who got married right after we got out of high school. They're always telling me I need to settle down but a lot of them are on their second or third marriage. Have kids they never see. They're not happy. Why should I listen to them? I get the same thing from my family. Saying I need to slow down on the drinking and quit getting in trouble. I wish that I could change. I wish that I could just flip a switch and all of a sudden I'd be able to keep a job longer then a year and I wouldn't love beer and all. I don't believe a person can really change all that much, but that's just me. I know I'll never change.

[overnight life]

wow. It's good. The female seems a little unrealistic in that she just puts up with him... there seems to need to be a reason why she does that...

The other thing I noticed about your writing is word inefficiency. BUT that may be what you are trying to achieve, the fact that he is a simple man.

There is a way that hemingway did it best. Hemingway way wrote well in his own prose, then reverted down to italics for the man's own thoughts ... We met on the phone lines.

I like to use the mix of third person omniscient with first person internal dialogue, but that's just me.

Such as

They met at Burger King. He was disappointed. she's fat, he thought.

But these are just MY suggestions. The problem with this story being published is that people are going to think that this character is REALLY YOU. Just like people thought many of Hemingway's characters were him and many of F. Scott Fitzgerald's characters were really him.

To write of poverty and addiction in the first person is risky because it will make you look like the addict or the poverty-stricken one.

[dizzydoll]

wow. It's good. The female seems a little unrealistic in that she just puts up with him... there seems to need to be a reason why she does that...

I believe she fits this story perfectly, otherwise he might not have lived in denial for so long. A lot of women are enablers without meaning to be.

If there is another part to this mans life, I am intrigued to read about it. If not I assume he pulled himself together and found the happiness which has eluded him so far.

:wink5:

[paradoxical]

Well, here it is, the conclusion to my little story. You guys let me know what you think.



I was burning a white spinnerbait past a clump of water lilies, just breaking the surface of the water. I had caught a nice bass a few minutes ago, pitching a jig with a crawfish trailer in those same water lilies. The sun was sinking down and the worst of the afternoon heat was over, but it was still warm and muggy and we had about an hour of daylight left. I had already caught six fish but Don hadn't caught anything all day.

"What you using now? A worm?"

"Yea. Berkley Power Worm," he said.

"I thought you were using a Rat-L-Trap."

"I took it off."

I kept telling him to try a jig or a spinnerbait. I'm not saying that I'm some kind of pro, but if there's one thing I know a bit about, it's fishing for bass. It's all about reading the water and paying attention to what the weather's doing. That's going to tell you what you need to know and it can change in an instant. It's more of an art then a science, but there's a lot you have to consider. More then I care to get into, I'll just say that I learned from some of the best when I was growing up, and Don is more of a saltwater fisherman. That's really not my thing.

"What color worm?"

"Black with chartreuse tail."

Don is my AA sponsor. I'm back in the program and I've been sober for three months. I'm living in Baton Rouge, working this construction job, and going to AA meetings. That's about all I do, except fish. Don has a nice boat, but that's not why I asked him to be my sponsor. I felt like we had a lot in common, like I could see a lot of myself in him. I've haven't been here that long. I left Beaumont a few months ago, just packed my clothes and took off in the middle of the night with no idea where I was headed. I wound up in Houston and one night I was drinking in this strip club when the bartender told me about some construction jobs in Baton Rouge. I drove in from Texas and the next day I was hired on the spot.

"If I could just catch one, I'd be willing to call it a day," he said.

"Yep. I just want one more."

We had put down at the I-10 landing. I loved to fish the basin, and he knew a lot of the canals. We had fished the Texaco canal earlier, right now we were working Lake Bigeux. That's one thing I love about Baton Rouge. There's a Bass Pro Shop, and some good places to fish if you don't mind driving a bit. That and the women. Even though I don't want to get involved right now, I still like to look.

"So when are you going to start on your Fourth Step?"

"I don't know. I guess I need to do it," I said.

"You're right you need to do it. Did you start on your amends?"

"No."

He shook his head.

"You're only hurting yourself. Don't do it for me, or anyone else. Remember, this is a selfish program."

"Yea."

That's one thing I got tired of, the same AA clichés over and over again. I knew he was right, but sometimes you don't want to hear it. I had to make amends to all the people I had harmed, that was part of the program. I had to made amends to my parents for all the worry I had put them through. Had to make restitution for all the financial harm I had caused them and people like Michelle. He even wanted me to apologize to my boss for drinking on the job and putting the company at risk. None of this was going to be easy. AA was doing me a lot of good, I felt like a new person in a lot of ways, but there were some things that were really difficult; and sometimes I just wanted to drink a beer.

What got me back into AA this time wasn't alcohol, but weed. I got busted with a half ounce of pot that I had just bought from one of the guys at work. I was smoking in my truck in the Wal-Mart parking lot, which was pretty stupid. I wanted to get stoned before I went in and did my grocery shopping, only I forgot that my windows were down. I was sitting there playing with the radio when two security guards walked up to my vehicle. They called the police and I had to go downtown for a few hours before I could bail out. Luckily, I was able to get pretrial diversion. Once again, I have to go to AA meetings. But this time, I don't mind going. I really want to stay sober.

"Y'all coming over tomorrow?"

I usually barbecued on Sundays and sometimes Don and his wife came over.

"No, she wants to go up to Alexandria to see her mother."

Don looked at me and I could just about see his eyes behind the polarized sunglasses he wore.

"You should really work on your Fourth Step tomorrow."

Something about the way he said it made me decide that I would start the next day. I might even start tonight. It's not that he was making me do anything; I could tell from the tone of his voice how important it was for me to get started.

"This is when a lot of people drink again. After they do their Third Step but before they do their Fourth Step."

I had heard the same thing in meetings. The program wasn't easy, a lot of it was really painful to go through. There had been many long talks with my sponsor, but that's what a sponsor does, takes you through the 12 Steps and helps you out. The Fourth Step is a kind of inventory of every dishonest, sleazy thing you've ever done. Then you have to read it to your sponsor for your Fifth Step. Like I said, not easy at all. Alcoholics carry around a lot of baggage.

* * *

I was back home and listening to my favorite Creedence album. I thought maybe it would help get me in the mood, only when I decided to start on my inventory, I realized that I had no paper in the apartment. So I headed back out to buy a notebook and some ink pens. The stars were out and the air was much cooler. I drove with the windows open, and it felt good. I would start on my Fourth Step tonight, there's no sense in putting it off another day. I've put things off my whole life.

I would start tonight, maybe even finish tonight. I had a lot of things to write but I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. I still found it hard to sleep without alcohol. When I asked my sponsor what I should do about that, he told me that no one had ever died from a lack of sleep. You don't get much sympathy from these guys. Maybe that's a good thing, I don't know, but I had a strong feeling that I would make it this time. That the worst was behind me.

In a few weeks, I would turn 40. I thought of how immature I had been, all the missed opportunities and the money I had wasted. It was bad, but in a way it wasn't that bad. Some people didn't get sober until they were 50 or 60 years old. Some people never got sober. I pulled into the Rite-Aid parking lot and killed the engine. I took a deep breath. 'Just do the next right thing.' That's what my sponsor always says. I was finally doing something right, and it started with small things like going buy paper. Things were in motion and I was going to make sure it stayed that way. I was determined not to drink and would continue on, no matter what. I would keep moving forward and never stop.

[dizzydoll]

Bravo, an excellent end to the story. It reminds me of so many times and people I have known along the way. :smile5: