Trailer Park Noir

A tuna salad sandwich sounded good. She took a can out, took the can opener from the drawer, and opened it, drained the water out of the can, and scooped the tuna into a bowl with a fork. She mixed in mayonnaise. Mommy always put chopped celery and onions in tuna fish salad. Kendra put the mayonnaise back in the refrigerator, then opened the crisper drawer and removed celery and green onions. She got a big knife from the drawer and broke off a celery stick, washed it in the sink, then began cutting off small pieces on the cutting board.

She did not feel it when it happened. She did not even know she had cut herself until she saw the blood. It came from a long, deep cut down the side of her index finger on her left hand. It bled furiously. Blood dribbled on the cutting board and counter, splashing in deep-red spots on the surfaces.

Kendra felt light-headed at the sight of all the blood and she had to grip the edge of the counter with her right hand. She went to the sink and held the finger under cold water. The water washed the blood away for a moment and she saw how deep and long the cut was. She wasn’t even sure how she’d done it. She hadn’t been cutting that fast, had she? Or had she been cutting at all? She could not remember. One minute, everything was fine, and the next, blood was everywhere.

The next thing she knew, she was sitting on her ass on the floor, holding her hand out before her, dripping water and blood, her head spinning dizzily. The blood was getting everywhere and her finger began to throb with pain. It felt twice, maybe three times its actual size, and when she looked at the finger, she was surprised to find that it was the same size as all the others.

Dexter came to her side and looked at her with puzzlement.

Blood was getting all over the floor, over her legs, but all she could do was sit there and stare at it.

Someone knocked on the screen door.

“Kendra?” Marc called. “Hello? Your mom told me to look in on you. You around?”

“Cuh-come in, please,” she said, her voice broken and hoarse.

He pulled the screen door open and stepped up into the trailer smiling – until he saw her sitting on the kitchen floor with blood everywhere.

“Oh, my God,” he said, rushing to her, “what happened?”

“I-I-I… cut myself.”

He hunkered down beside her and held her left wrist as he examined her finger.

“Oh, boy,” he said. “That’s going to need stitches.”

“Stitches?” she said weakly, her eyes wide.

“Yes. Come on, let’s go. I’m taking you to the Emergency Room to have that stitched up. Do you have something we can wrap it up in till we get there? Do you have any gauze?”

“I… I think there’s some in the bathroom.”

Marc stood and went down the hall to the bathroom. She heard him fumbling around in there, searching.

Her head spun and she had to look away from the blood.

Marc finally returned with a roll of gauze, a small pair of scissors, and some white tape. He wrapped the finger snugly, taped it, then cut the tape.

“Okay, can you stand up and walk?” he said.

“I… I think so.”

He took her elbow and helped her to her feet. “Let’s go, now. Out to my car. I’m taking you to the hospital. Get the keys to the trailer so we can lock it up on our way out.”

Kendra took the key Mommy had left her on the table and put it in her pocket. She locked the trailer door on the way out and said, “Bye-bye, Dexter.”

* * * *

They sat for what seemed like hours in the waiting room of the Shasta Regional Medical Center Emergency Room. When Kendra’s name was finally called, Reznick went with her through the double doors and into the back.

The doctor unwrapped the bloody bandage from her finger and cleaned the wound, then he gave her a shot in the finger to numb the area. The shot hurt a lot and made Kendra cry. Reznick held her right hand and squeezed it as the doctor gave her the shot, but it didn’t help.

Then the doctor stitched up the cut. Kendra could not watch, had to look away, or she knew she would pass out. Reznick squeezed her right hand the whole time and whispered to her that everything was going to be fine, that it would all be over soon. Once he was done stitching the cut, the doctor wrapped the finger lightly.

When he was finished, the doctor said, “I’m going to give you a prescription for a mild dose of codeine, because that finger is going to hurt pretty bad once the shot wears off.” He disappeared for a moment, then returned with a pad and pen. He scribbled on the pad, tore off the page, and handed it to Reznick. “You can take that to any pharmacy.”

When they left the Emergency Room, Reznick walked with his arm across her shoulders. Kendra walked unsteadily, holding her left hand in her right, her cheeks glistening with spilled tears. She leaned against him as they walked out into the stifling heat and crossed the parking lot to his Toyota.

In the car as they drove back to Anderson, Kendra said, “Thank you.”

She spoke very quietly and Reznick did not hear what she said. “What?” he said.

“Thank you. For taking me to the hospital.”

“Oh, no problem. I’m not sure if your mom is going to be too crazy about the bill, but it was no problem, really. Let’s go to the drugstore and get those pills.”

Reznick drove to Owen’s Pharmacy in Anderson, which was just down the street from his office. They waited while the prescription was filled, then Reznick paid for it, and they got back in the car and he drove them to the trailer park.

In the trailer, Kendra saw a turd on the kitchen floor. “Oh, Dexter, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to let you out.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Reznick said. “I’ll clean it up.” He got a paper towel and cleaned up the mess.

Kendra stretched out on the couch, and Dexter hopped up and joined her, curled up on her tummy. He seemed to know something was wrong and he stared at her with big sad eyes.

Reznick got a couple pills from the bottle, got a glass of water, and a banana, and took them to Kendra on the couch.

“Here,” he said. “Take a couple of these with water. Then eat the banana. If you don’t take them with food, they’ll make you sick. I’ll go clean up the blood in the kitchen.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said.

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

Kendra’s finger began to throb again. She had taken the pills just in time. She rested her head on a throw pillow and closed her eyes, frowning at the pain.

As time passed and Reznick cleaned up the blood in the kitchen, the codeine pills kicked in. Kendra experienced a giddy feeling that made her smile, and a tiredness washed over her. By the time she heard Mommy drive up, she was feeling no pain.

* * * *

Anna Dunfy pulled in under the carport beside her trailer, and she was smiling. Her day had gone so well, she still couldn’t believe it. It was a good job, a job she could do well, and a job where she felt welcome. It was such a good job that by the end of the day, she was praying she could stay on full-time.

She got out of the car, looking forward to putting on a T-shirt and shorts and relaxing with Kendra. She put her purse strap over her shoulder, went up the steps, opened the screen door, and went inside.

Kendra was stretched out on the couch, and Marc Reznick was in the kitchen wiping down the floor with a rag.

“Hello,” Anna said, frowning a little. Something wasn’t right. “Kendra?”

Kendra opened her eyes and turned to her with a drunken smile. “Hi, Mommy. How’d your job go?” She sounded groggy. The index finger of her left hand was bandaged.

“Hi,” Reznick said. He stood up straight, tossed the rag into the sink, and washed his hands. He dried them on a hand towel. “We had a bit of an accident today.”