Grimly, Munch Dutchendorph scanned his bedroom. The room's right wall separated him from his mother’s room. A room she would be sharing with THAT MAN. He had half a mind to give Etta James a call, to see if she wanted a new son. Yeah, right. Beautiful as her voice was, she was addicted to heroin and was having a hard time taking care of herself. She wouldn’t have time to look after a fifteen year old boy who had run away from home. Home. Home had always been his favorite place. There weren’t any bullies or people who didn’t understand him. His mama let him draw and sew to his hearts content, but that was about to change. Things had been just fine until THAT MAN came along and ruined EVERYTHING. Why should he have to give up his WHOLE LIFE because his mama finally decided she needed a life as well. Refusing to dwell on this errant thought, he turned his attention back to his huge closet. He was NEVA’ gonna get his wardrobe in that puny closet in Grandma Toady’s trailer's rummage room. He would have to pick and choose. How was he supposed to do that?

He glanced out his window at what he called The Trailer Park. It really wasn’t a trailer park it was just the two trailer houses set up in the cow pasture. The trailers belonged to his best friend, Lolly’s family. Both trailers were butt ugly. He didn’t know why anyone would want to live in one...until he wanted to live in one. To his mind it would be better to live in the single wide trailer with Lolly, her cat, Fluff and Grandma Toady, than live in his house with his mother and THAT MAN. The double wide trailer had more room but it belonged to Lolly’s Aunt Jessie and her two kids, Max and Mitzi. They had a big stupid pit bull, named Bruno. That dog was the size of a cow and drooled—all over everything. If only he could convince Lolly’s Grandma Toady to go along with his grand scheme.

Munch shouted, “DAMN IT ALL! DAMN IT ALL!”

From the back of his closet a small voice said, “Ummm, your cussing. Grandma Toady don’t like bad words to come out of peoples’ mouths.”

Furious, Munch pushed back the clothes in his closet. On the floor, curled up with her stuffed bear, Puccini, sat Mitzi, Lolly’s little cousin. The child had pixie cut hair and big eyes that looked up at him in defiance. He asked, “What the hell are you doing in my room?”

Mitzi just shook her head. “Don’t cuss at me. If you’re plannin’ on running away from home, you better pack some food. You can’t eat clothes.”

How did she know? His mother said, Mitzi was an old soul. What she was was a sneak. Good Lord, he never knew when or where she was going to turn up. “How did you get in here? My door was locked.”

“Yup.” She offered no further explanation. To her crummy little bear she said, “Wonder where he’s plannin’ on living next. I think I know.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“You do not.” He knew he had just made a mistake. A mistake Lolly had warned him about over and over. Lolly had told him, “Never start an argument with Mitzi, just walk away.”

Mitzi dropped her voice and pursed her lips. She batted her eyelashes and said, “Aw, poor baby. Bet this is the first time your mama’s been away from you.”

God, she was right. “So.”

Mitzi stood up in the closet and gave him a look up and down. “So, you’re gonna have to share her with Uncle Trace and you don’t want to.”

True, but he would never say that to an almost five year old.

She climbed out of the closet and asked, “Do you always act like you're runnin’ away when you don’t get what you want?”

This was too much! Truth was he did. It always worked in the past, but with THAT MAN coming to live with his mama, it probably wouldn’t fly any more.

With narrowed eyes, Mitzi looked at him and asked, “Don’t your think you’re gettin’ a little old to be acting like such a baby?”

Before Munch could stop himself he shouted, “Shut up!”

“Aw poor little feller do you need to be burped.”

He took a wide swing at her, not to hit her, but to put a little fear into her.

She ducked and said to her bear, Puccini, “No wonder he don’t play sports.”

This hurt. “You little—“

Mitzi cut him off. In a flat voice she said, “I’m tellin’.”

“Tattle Tail.”

“No, I’m a in-informant, like the ones on Police Woman. They tell Pepper what bad things other people’s do. And you been sayin’ bad words and plannin on running away from home and you just tried to HIT me.” She gave him a satisfied smile.

Munch wanted to scream, but he had to keep his cool. “Please don’t tell on me, please.” This was another thing he had to deal with since the Phelps clan invaded his territory.

“It will cost you,” said the almost five year old.

“What?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” She crossed the room and closed the door behind her. Her small steps clomped through the kitchen and went out the back door.

With a thud Munch sat down on his bed. He put his face in his hands. Since he was six he had considered the house and all of the farm his own personal property. Now there was the Trailer Park and THAT MAN. At the wedding he thought he could do this share thing, but that was before Lolly and her family descended upon his space. Oh Lolly wasn’t a problem, she got him, but Grandma Toady could really cramp his style. Max was mostly okay, but Mitzi swung from adorable to future bitch material. No, that was too harsh and he knew it. Mitzi was a good kid really, she was just too much sometimes.

To his dismay he burst into tears. God, the water works, bad as a girl. Deep down he was scared. His life had been pretty solitary and now that was solid gone. He didn’t know how to share, had never had to share and now there was this whole tribe of people he had to fit in with on the farm. He missed the days when he came home from school and had the whole place to himself. It had only been two weeks since his mom got married but it felt like an eternity and he missed her so much. What he did not miss were the google eyes she constantly cast at THAT MAN. How was he supposed to live in the midst of newly weds? Just the term made him want to BARF.

Nope, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t live in the same house with THAT MAN. He would talk to Grandma Toady. He would stay with her while THAT MAN was not working on the rig. When he went back to Louisiana to work off shore, Munch would live those three weeks with his mama. He wiped his eyes and went to the bathroom to wash his face. He would talk to Grandma Toady. Maybe if he put it just right, she might agree. Problem was, Grandma Toady was unpredictable. He never knew which way the wind was gonna blow her. Slowly, he took in a big breath and let it out. Even though people said, it never hurt to ask, asking could hurt. It could really hurt. With as much courage as he could muster, he walked through the kitchen, out the back door and to the trailers.

Though a stiff wind was blowing, Mitzi was on the front porch of Grandma Toady’s trailer coloring in her Mrs. Beasley coloring book. When she saw him, she closed the book and picked up her box of crayons. She said, “Well, that didn’t take long. Let’s go see what Grandma Toady thinks.” She held out her small hand to him and he took it.

Grandma Toady was in the living room vacuuming. He had never witnessed such cleanliness issues in his life. He and his mom were happy slobs. It seemed Grandma Toady needed order and tidiness to breathe. Above the roar of the vacuum, Mitzi shouted, “You will have to wait till she’s done. Come on.”

They went into the kitchen. Lolly was at the sink doing dishes. On her face was this far off look that he recognized too well. She was mooning over Trevor Long again. She was as sappy as his mother these days.

From one of the kitchen cupboards Mitzi hauled out her drawing pad and colored pencils. This was another new annoyance in his life. She plopped it on the table and said, “Draw me a cow with pink spots.”

“I don’t want to.”

Mitzi cut her eyes at him. “I can speak or I can be quiet. Which will it be?”

He yanked a kitchen chair back, sat down in it, grabbed the drawing pad and picked up the colored pencils. Lolly came out of her Trevor cloud long enough to ask, “What’s she got on you this time?”

He didn’t answer. By the time he finished the cow with pink spots, Grandma Toady was done wit her vacuuming. She came into the kitchen and asked, “How you doin’ Munch?”

Mitzi answered for him, “He’s not good. He wants to live here.”

Good LORD! Was the little witch psychic?

Grandma Toady sat down across from him at the table. She was wearing a red bandana on her head and overalls with big roses on them. To Lolly she said, “I think its time you and Mitzi fed the chickens.”

Still in a daze, Lolly said, “Uh, sure. Let me get my jacket.”

Once Lolly and Mitzi were out of the house, Grandma Toady said, “Well spill the beans.”

Munch felt a lump form in his throat. No, he would not cry in front of Grandma Toady. He stammered, “I-I was wondering if I could stay here until um That-- um Lolly’s dad goes back to work.”

“If your mom says its okay, its okay with me.”

Stunned, Munch asked, “Really?”

“Of course.” She reached out and put her hand over his. “It’s gonna be okay Munch, it really is. Right now’s hard because we are all adjusting, and honestly, Sweetie, you have the most to adjust to.”

She understood. His voice cracked, when he said, “Thank you,” but he didn’t shed a single tear.

Softly she said, “You’re welcome."