Having my own space really appealed to me...

Another Country -17-
by Erin Halfelven

All of my stuff from my bedroom had ended up piled on the bed in the trailer, and now I had to sort and put them away. Like most trailers, nearly all the storage was built-in, no standalone dressers or nightstands, but shelves, drawers and cabinets that fit into the angles and shapes of the trailer itself. It looked like a lot of stuff to put into some very small spaces.

It almost surprised me that I didn’t feel any resentment or regret that things had worked out as they did. After half a day getting the trailer down from Peterborough and getting it set up in the backyard at Cabarker, Cyndy had put her foot down.

No way was she going to sleep at night alone in the trailer. She said something about bears and lions in the wilderness beyond the edge of town, and no amount of pooh-poohing by Dad or John was going to change her mind. If she was going to stay with the family while John went to Europe with the Air Force, she was going to be sleeping inside the house with real walls between her and wild beasts.

Yeah, it was more than just a little funny. While there may be a few lions in the desert around Cabarker, there were certainly no bears. And the lions did not come near the towns— why would they? Good way to get yourself shot for the chance to pick off an overfed Chihuahua or two.

Besides, having my own space really appealed to me. Mom and Cyndy could work out what their territories and responsibilities in the household were without me getting caught in No-Man’s-Land. I grinned at that thought, then put the grin away. On second thought, that phrase wasn’t as funny as it might be.

I had most everything put away when I picked up a paper bag and poured it out in the middle of the bed. It turned out to be clothes I didn’t recognize. Simple polo-style shirts and cuffed shorts, in solid blues and neutral colors, mostly.

I picked up several items and examined them. Were these mine? Everything looked like it would fit, and all the tags I could find said small. The five shirts and three pairs of shorts would practically double my wardrobe of this sort of well-dressed casual item, but where had they come from?

The cloth didn’t feel as stiff as new clothes usually do. Maybe Mom had made a thrift store run while Dad and John and I were on the mountain, and this was my share of the loot? They smelled clean, maybe even freshly laundered, something Mom did with any clothes she picked up in thrift stores.

Thinking about retrieving the trailer reminded me that I needed a shower. I hadn’t put in that much work, but it had been dusty and a bit sweaty, and tomorrow would be a school day. I should go to bed clean, and I wouldn’t have to try to get a shower in tomorrow before school. Besides, trying out my own shower in my own space seemed like fun, even if the whole bathroom, shower included, was hardly bigger than some phone booths.

I’d already stocked the bathroom with soap, wash cloths and hand towels; now I picked out the biggest, fluffiest bath towel I could find, clean underwear and a set of the new, possibly used, but clean, shirt and shorts instead of pajamas because I wanted to see what they looked like.

The little trailer already had hot water since the propane had been turned on at about four in the afternoon, so I would have plenty for a long, pleasant bath. Honest, it wasn’t until I was getting undressed that I remembered…my chest.

They were still there, soft points that had no business on the body of a boy. The bruising from Chud’s purple nurple had faded, but they still felt…tender? …sensitive? I took my hands away and refused to look at the mirror. I don’t usually curse, but I allowed myself a silent, “Dammit!” before dropping the rest of my clothes in the hallway and getting under the shower.

The hot water felt good, and, though I skipped washing my hair since I’d had a shower yesterday, I used some shampoo as liquid soap to work up a lather. The roughness of the washcloth left me feeling tingly, and I finished up more quickly than I’d intended. My body felt strange, as if I’d just moved into it.

I wrapped the big bath towel around me as I left the steamy little shower and went back to the bed where I had left the clothes I intended to put on. I put on underwear first, including a clean T-shirt, then pulled on the shorts I’d found in the paper bag. I liked the color, burgundy or maybe maroon, hard to tell in the indoor light, but they fit differently than my other shorts.

Just as I tried to work that out, I heard someone on the makeshift wooden step we’d set up outside the door, and somehow I knew it must be Josh.

Three steps from the end of the bed put me into the little kitchenette, where I could glimpse a shadow through the screen door. I’d left the metal door open, latched against the side of the trailer, to improve the air inside and maybe demonstrate that I wasn’t afraid of lions or bears.

“Bobby? Can I come in?” Josh’s voice confirmed his presence on the little stack of wooden blocks and plywood we had arranged.

“Sure,” I said. But I didn’t make a move to unlatch the screen door. I was standing there in just a white T-shirt. Well, I had on the brownish-red shorts, but my chest felt a bit exposed. I dithered about going back to the bed for a more substantial upper covering but decided that would be odd.

“Bobby?” Josh said again.