c. 2025 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(5-25)
Living at Evergreen Estates was something that provided residents with daily lessons in enduring hardships and challenges. The on-site conditions were poorly maintained and managed. The location was distant from any population center in the tri-county area, so it did not offer convenience in any form. Water quality was a thorny issue, one that regularly involved receiving an intermittent supply of contaminated, undrinkable hydration. But perhaps most vexing from a modern standpoint was the difficulty in getting connected to cyberspace. There were only two providers for the park, one that used a cable conduit, and the other plugged-in via a telephone line. Neither were cheap or reliable. Though both used a strategy of low introductory prices, to lure naïve customers into choosing their service.
After years of complaints and grousing about dropped connections, the phone company decided to rewire their network in the oasis of mobile homes, with a series of poles positioned around the remote property. These lengthy, wooden spikes seemed to follow a random pattern, which then were joined in a fiber-optic pathway. The noise and chaos of digging lasted for days and weeks, with any visible progress coming at a snail’s pace. Meanwhile, bills continued to rise for subscribers already in the fold.
Vance Jefka had been living at the rural development since losing his job with a firm in Painesville. A career that lasted for decades, and paid him well. Crash-landing at the junkyard village was a drastic change in lifestyle that he did not appreciate, at first. But being close to his mother, who was matron of their community, proved to be a positive step. He made friends easily. And his tall stature, generous girth, and blue-collar skills were assets that matched the requirements for thriving in this new environment. Particularly because it was a place where cigarettes, junk food, and beer were the currency of daily existence. Any repairs had to be done by the residents, themselves.
He had just returned from a trip up Sidley’s Hill, to the local Dollar General store, when something struck him between the eyes, like a vertical arrow plunked into the earth. A new pole had been erected in the swampy yard behind his longbox hovel. It leaned a bit to one side, owing to the damp soil which never seemed to shed a bounty of moisture. But stood high enough to support the taut stretch of a hi-tech cable, from its own pinnacle, to the next.
Upon entering his trailer, he noted that an uneasy silence had settled in the kitchen. There was no mechanical song from his refrigerator. No hood-light burning over the stove. No whirring of a fan left on to circulate air. This made him drop both fistfuls of yellow bags, and curse.
“WHAT THE HELL, OUR POWER IS OUT AGAIN? MA NEVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT THAT!”
He left the sacks of canned goods sitting on his living-room floor. Then, jumped behind the wheel of his ratty, Dodge sedan. And spun its tires in a circle, until pointed in the opposite direction. When he rolled back down the rustic boulevard, everyone seemed to have disappeared. But one, lone neighbor was visible outside.
Townshend Carr Lincoln was drunk and drooling on his inset porch. The automotive cacophony shook him from a pleasant embrace of inebriation. Something for which he was unprepared.
“Hey, what’s the matter, friend? I’ve never seen you getting so agitated about anything...”
This younger member of the Jefka clan was overheated, sweaty and disheveled. He leaned out of the open window, with one hand still on his steering wheel.
“HEY LINK, YOU GOT POWER IN THERE? IT’S DARK AS HELL AT MY PLACE!”
The old hermit shrugged and spit a mouthful of bourbon. His shaggy, tangled beard was soaked.
“Umm... I don’t know, really? I mean, it was on before I think! Actually, I wasn’t paying attention...”
Vance snorted and hit the brake pedal forcefully enough to cause a slide on loose gravel.
“COULD YOU CHECK, MAYBE? I GOT NO JUICE AT HOME!”
Lincoln struggled to find both disability canes. He rocked forward until on his feet, but was bent in half, facing the storm door. Then slowly straightened his back, until it was possible to look through a window in the side wall.
“Yeah, there’s a light on I the kitchen. I got electricity right now...”
His neighbor cursed again, and thumped the wheel with aggravation.
“IT’S THEM GAWDAMM PEOPLE FROM THE PHONE COMPANY, THEY’VE BEEN DIGGING AROUND THIS PLACE FOR TWO SOLID WEEKS! I BET THEY HIT SOMETHING IN THE GROUND! THE DUMB BASTARDS! NOW I GOTTA CALL SOMEBODY ABOUT GETTING RECONNECTED!”
More rough language echoed as he parked in his mother’s driveway. About an hour later, a ladder truck from the Illuminating Company appeared, to offer relief. But only a short while later, it made a U-turn, and exited quickly.
The alcoholic loner was perplexed and confused. He shouted across the street when his afflicted counterpart appeared once again, in his mater’s yard.
“Any luck around the corner? Did they get you hooked up?”
Vance sputtered with the desperation of a drowning sailor.
“THEY SAID THAT THEIR PART OF THE CONNECTION IS GOOD! WHATEVER GOT CUT IS THE PARK’S RESPONSIBILITY! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET IN TOUCH WITH THOSE SHITHEADS? WE GOT NO PROPERTY MANAGER, ANYMORE!”
Lincoln wiped a drizzle of brown liquor from his mouth. His hillbilly accent hardened with regret.
“Dude, I don’t have a damn clue. Darby next door says when ya call the line fer help, it just goes to voicemail. Screw that, I don’t know if they ever call anyone back...”
The middle-aged retiree slammed his weathered Dodge into its drive gear. Then steered toward the maintenance garage, which was at the front end of their isolated avenue.
“THIS IS IT, I’M GOING FOR BROKE! NO MORE CRAP FROM CALIFORNIA! WE’LL SEE HOW THEY LIKE GETTING KICKED RIGHT IN THE TEETH! HOOOOOOO BOY!”
The sound of his vintage MOPAR, furiously accelerating, could be heard as it faded into the distance. Then, an awful explosion of metal impacting structural timbers shattered the calm. A curious stillness followed. Rage had met the day, and won.
When the Jefka offspring returned, it was on foot. His forehead was bleeding. Yet he grinned with satisfaction.
“There’s some efficiency for you! I rammed that rig right into the manager’s office! It’s a fair trade for messing up my power!”
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