CHAPTER 16
Alessio
“I’m the best damn nudist trailer manager!”
We were all stunned speechless. What had we gotten ourselves into?
A fucking nudist park? We’d rumbled in past the gates and had seen one undressed woman in her front yard, bending over watering plants from a can.
Another naked guy had a cobra around his neck.
Maybe the name, the Heavenly Bus Trailer Park, should’ve given it away.
And the fact that Ozzie Whitworth was nude was the clincher. He wore only a visor and a tool apron—thank God. He resembled David Crosby with wild, white flyaway hair, a snowy moustache to rival mine.
“Is it all right if we keep on our clothes?” asked Denmark.
“Of course!” Ozzie swung a wide arm as if presenting us with one of the trailers. “We’re all seekers here, all marching to our own inner disco. Nobody frowns upon anyone!”
Truman spoke to me under his breath. “Well, that sounds good.” Louder, he said, “Let’s see the trailer.”
This version was a three-bedroom that could house Denmark, Gunning, and Erin—so they wouldn’t have to put up with our antics.
Ozzie displayed the sleek real marble countertops, the bouncy beds, and the shower with strong spray.
Gesturing at it, Ozzie proclaimed, “You can cool off in here endlessly, retiring from the stinking desert.”
Stinking desert? This guy was some sort of cult leader, but he was all we had.
We followed his bare, bouncing ass to the next trailer, our roomier one-bedroom.
We all admired the strong spray in that shower, and I actually liked the little window displaying some stinking desert dunes.
A few rusty peaks explained why the town was called Needles.
The view would calm us as we jacked each other off. Under the strong spray.
“We’ll take them,” Truman and I said, almost as one voice.
Ozzie Whitworth became more serious then, his visor shading his face a nauseous green. He twirled a pen in his hand like a cheerleader’s baton. Now he meant business. “I don’t know how you came upon us, but we know who you are. You’re just four or five crazy guys.”
We all looked uneasily sideways at each other. Was that it?
“Yeah,” I chuckled. “That sounds like us.”
Gunning added, “We found you on Zillow.”
“We’re here to visit someone’s dad at Pine Valley,” said Denmark.
“Visiting for a whole month,” said Erin.
Ozzie took a step toward us. Some of us glanced around, as if about to be attacked. “We know you’re the Undisputed Truth Club.”
Fuck. Now the question was, which way to run?
Ozzie continued, his eyes shimmering like pea soup. “But we don’t care. We like people like you! Going against the grain, digging your own path, seeking and following.”
“Well,” Truman chuckled, “we don’t really follow. But we definitely seek.”
“Don’t worry,” I added. “We won’t bring any uproar to this park. We really are here to see someone’s dad.”
“Someone’s,” agreed Gunning.
Ozzie shook everyone’s hands. “Welcome in! Don’t forget . . . the Aztecs invented the vacation! And come directly to my trailer if you see any aliens.”
“We straight,” agreed Denmark. “I’ll tell you the second I see antennae.”
Ozzie confided in us. “They’re all living like Indians in this park.”
Truman frowned. “Make sure you don’t advertise our presence. We’re underground, as you know.”
“No problem!” whispered Ozzie. “A lot of us are underground too. So don’t talk about us!”
“Wow,” breathed Erin once the guy trundled out of our trailer. “Has me worried he might broadcast us on one of his podcasts.”
I said, “Yeah. Now I know why all those people were waving at us when we drove in.”
But the deal was done, and we set about placing our meager belongings into our respective mobile homes.
The most exciting aspect of having our own roof was the washer and dryer.
We practically came to blows over who’d use them first. I won, being the Dom, most of the time.
To make up for it, I let Truman shower first. He’d have to be the squarest-looking male going into the Pine Valley lobby.
On our way to Pine Valley, we went into a nearby dispensary for some pain gummies. When I went to pay, the guy told me it was free. He’d recognized me, and was on my side. “It’s on the house!” he cried gleefully. It stoked my ego, but also my fear.
I parked the Charger about two blocks from the assisted living facility. Truman smoothed his hair with spit, although he needed a haircut too. Exhaling heavily, he looked at me, almost forlorn.
“Okay. I’m going in. We’ll be Pickett Yarborough’s nephew and niece. We’ll ask to speak to Dr. Bridgewater with our concerns about his bowel habits.”
I added, “Or whatever you discover when you talk to Pickett. Somehow convince him you’re his nephew.”
Truman put his hand on his chest. “Should I show Bridgewater this bottle of tranq?”
“Maybe hold off on that. Let’s play it close to the vest for now.”
Truman said, “See what our buddy Jack Hoffman thinks.”
“Good idea.”
We kissed, innocent and gentle. I even brushed his face with the backs of my fingers. Things felt different.
We were really going to take down the evilest asswipe in Needles.