by Eddie in space #29

What a long, strange trip it's been. I guess cooling my heels in that jail cell for all those months made me kinda forget what a wild, wooly place this trailer park truly is.  But I sure got reminded real quick.

I got released on Friday, right before the Cinco de Mayo weekend. Donnie Dorque even came by the correctional facility upon my release to give me a ride back to Tinbox Acres. On the way back to the trailer park, we seen a sign that said GARAGE SALE with a arrow pointing down a residential street. Donnie took me to the garage sale and he bought me a nice little snap-together dome tent to replace that camper I blowed up.

Once we got back to Tinbox Acres, all Hell broke loose. First of all, it was Cinco de Mayo weekend and everyone was partying even harder than usual. There was people there I never seen before. A gang was wearing matching red and black suits with red sombreros, strolling around and playing guitars and singing in a foreign language. Three members of that guitar gang left after most of us was passed out. When we all came to in the morning, there was still one of 'em here. Even though he don't speak no English, I finally got it out of him that his name is Jose.

Well, Jose has proved himself to be a class-A meal ticket, or cash cow, or whatever you want to call it. It don't matter what you call Jose, he don't understand no English anyways. But he can understand gestures and grunts, which is how I been communicating with him.

Do you have any idea how long I had to gesture and grunt just to get it through Jose's head that I needed him to go to the market up the road and play his guitar in the parking lot? I finally had to take him to Ernie's trailer and show him a old Bugs Bunny cartoon with a organ grinder and monkey. While that was on, I had to go eek-eek-eek oook-oook aak-aak-aak and scratch my armpit, then point at his guitar, then play an air guitar, then do the eek-eek-eek oook-oook aak-aak-aak thing again. Finally Jose went, "Aye!" indicating that he got the point I was trying to make.

I got a goofy-looking red hat with a elastic string that goes under the chin and put that on my head. Then I mooched a coffee mug from the Dorques. Jose slung the guitar over his shoulder. We hoofed it to the market up the road to start raking in some cash.

We must have a kickass act, because we been making money hand over fist. Well, I have, anyway. I ain't giving none of it up to Jose unless he asks, and so far he ain't asked. Not in English, anyways.

This is the first gainful employment I ever had in my whole life. I don't think cooking and selling a controlled substance counts as gainful employment. For one thing, it ain't legal.

My whole head got scorched beyond all recognition when my camper blowed up. I'm still all red and wrinkly and scarred up and mostly bald from the explosion. To add insult to injury, I got locked up for months and months for blowing up my own camper and scorching my own head.

At least I had a little piece of Tinbox Acres with me for most of my stay. Clarence, the old alkie in space #62 (old dude  with a monster truck) was my cellmate.

About halfway through last month, Clarence got turned loose, too. We was in at the same time. Well, Clarence got pinched after I did, but we ended up doing a few months together.

I'm not sure why Clarence got locked up. He wasn't sure why, neither. Clarence said it was because he had a broken taillight on his monster truck, or because he was driving on a license that's been expired for 30 years, or because he led a bunch of cops on a high-speed pursuit, or because he polluted the duckpond, or maybe all that and then some, but he couldn't remember.

Clarence and I hadn't seen each other for a couple of weeks 'cause I got released about 15 days before he did. So we got together and talked and got caught up and he even gave me one of his Meister Braus.  That was the last time I seen Clarence alive. After that he took off for the winery, and didn't make it back alive.

I'm gonna miss Clarence. It kinda makes me all misty to think that the last thing he did before he left for that winery was to share a brewski with me.

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