ACE
After blowing up a map of Ohio on my phone, the small town of Sarahsville catches my eye. It’s almost like fate calling to me, since my mother’s name was Sarah. What better place to hide in? It’ll almost be like she’s protecting me.
I make one last major purchase with my black American Express, a black Harley-Davidson Sportster, because it’s better than hitchhiking. I also pick up a guitar from a local pawn shop and withdraw five thousand dollars from the bank. Hopefully Columbus will be the last place they can trace my whereabouts to before I disappear. Walmart is last on my list to hit before I take off. I purchase a prepaid cell with cash and then look online to find a place to rent. I find only one, and it seems like it’s probably a dump, which makes it perfect. No one would ever expect me to be living in some broken-down trailer park in the middle of nowhere.
I quickly fire a reply to the ad and leave only my phone number before I set off on the hour-and-a-half trip to my new little city.
The ride is cold, and maybe I should’ve rethought my plan on using a motorcycle as my form of transportation, considering it’s October in Ohio. The temperature here can fluctuate all over the place this time of the year. It’s been a long time since I’ve lived here, and I want to kick myself for not remembering this isn’t the California weather that I’m used to.
I turn off the main interstate and head down a county highway for the last thirty minutes of my drive and then coast into the small town of Sarahsville, reading the sign alerting me to the fact there’s a population of only 168 people. I may have found a more anonymous place than expected.
I pull into a local grocery and park my bike. The Oakley sunglasses covering my eyes darken my vision as I step inside, so I push them up on top of my head. A cowbell hanging over the door rings to announce my presence.
“Hello?” I call, a little uneasy being alone in here.
“Be with you in a minute,” an older man’s voice calls from a little room behind the counter.
A moment later, a gray-headed man pokes his head out of the room. “Can I help you, son?”
I clear my throat. “I’m looking for Willow Acres. Can you tell me where to find it?”
“Willow Acres, you say?” He steps out of the room and I take in the lanky man who’s probably in his sixties. His faded flannel shirt and jeans about two sizes too big tell me he’s either lost a lot of weight suddenly or he doesn’t have enough money to buy proper sizes. He narrows his green eyes at me, causing his bushy white eyebrows to pull inward. “You ain’t from the state, are you, because if you are, you’ll just have to find it on your own.”
I laugh at the old man’s protective tone. “No, sir. I’m just looking for a place to rent.”
He scratches at his day-old beard. “Well, in that case, I’ll write down the directions for you. The name’s Pete.”
I extend my hand to him, which he gives a hearty shake almost immediately. “Ace Johnson.”
Pete grabs a scrap piece of paper from under his counter and draws me a detailed map of how to get out to the trailer park. After explaining the directions to me thoroughly, he hands me the paper. “Tell Iris that Pete sent ya. I’ll warn you, Willow Acres isn’t much to look at, but Iris Easton is a good girl and she’ll be fair with you, so try not to judge it too harshly when you first pull up.”
I give him a small smile. “Yes, sir.”
I take the paper, feeling pretty confident that I can find my way, and stuff it into the back pocket of my jeans. I fire up my bike and take the roads as directed, and it takes me only about five minutes to make it the entrance of Willow Acres as labeled by an old, faded green sign with white lettering.
The trailers in the park are much older than I expected—most appearing like something built back in the seventies and not much upkeep done on them since then. It’s clean around the place, no garbage or anything lying around, but everything just looks so worn down. Windows are taped shut with duct tape to fix broken glass panes on a couple of the places, and it makes me think twice about wanting to stay here. It makes me think some seedy characters live here, and I have no desire to live in a crack den.
I wanted to hide, but this place may be too obscure and backwoods even for me.
I make it to the second trailer in the lot. It’s all white with a little plot of flowers surrounding the small patch of Astroturf that’s laid out over the concrete in front of the place. A green-and-white sign matching the one out front hangs by the door and reads Office. I park my bike out front and walk up the small wooden porch steps and knock on the front door.
“Just a minute!” A woman calls as I hear some rustling inside.
The lock on the door clicks and the door opens, revealing one of the most breathtaking women I’ve ever seen. Her long, dark hair falls over her shoulders in soft waves; her makeup is light, revealing her naturally smooth complexion, which causes her green eyes to sparkle. Her V-cut T-shirt and tight-fitting jeans hug her body’s hourglass curves like a glove.
I stand there completely tongue-tied, checking her out from head to toe. It’s not until I take in the expression on her face that I start to worry. Her full pink lips gape open in an O shape as she stares at my face. I pause, suddenly afraid that this place might not be as far out in the sticks as I hoped if she does recognize me.
Instantly, I’m attracted to this woman and I become angry with myself for feeling this way. Now is not the time to be thinking about a woman. I don’t plan on sticking in one place too long, and I’ll be damned if I allow some beauty to get into my head and make me change my plans. If she gets too close and I get too comfortable, I’ll reveal all my secrets to her, and I can’t let that happen.
The best thing I can do is be a complete dick to her and keep things between us strictly business.
She shakes her head as if pulling herself out of a daze before she licks her lips. “Can I help you?”
I pull the sunglasses from my eyes in order to make eye contact with her. “I’m here to see Iris about the trailer for rent? I e-mailed earlier with my number, but I figured I’d take a chance and stop by to see if it was still available?”
“You?” she questions. “You want to move into one of my rentals? Here?”
“Yeah? What of it?” I fire back.
She does a double take of my clothing and then glances out to my bike parked outside of her place. “You just don’t seem like the type.”
I shake my head. “Don’t pretend like you know me or my type. Look, I don’t have all day. Do you have the place or not?”
She flinches at my tone. “I do, but you don’t have to be a complete asshole to me.”
Her eyes narrow, and for a moment I think she’s about to tell me to hit the road for my rudeness, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sighs and shakes her head before reaching to the left of the door, grabbing a set of keys that must’ve been hanging on the wall. “Come on. I’ll show you to the trailer.”
I follow behind her to the blue-and-white trailer next to the office, the very first on the lot. Even though I shouldn’t, I allow my eyes to fixate on the sway of her little round ass in those jeans as she walks in front of me. It’s like the devil put a temptation in the form of this sexy little vixen before me to force me to give up and go running back to the label and beg their forgiveness.
When she turns around, I jerk my gaze away from her and focus anywhere but on her. I want to appear absolutely put off by her, so she’ll hate me and stay as far away from me as possible.
Iris makes her way up the two little wooden steps and unlocks the rickety front door with its tiny triangle window. She shoves open the door and steps inside, and I go in after.
The first thing that hits me is the musty odor, like it hasn’t been lived in for years and the last tenant was a seventy-year-old crazy cat lady. The next thing is the stained burgundy carpet and clashing flamingo-pink furniture and decor. Like the outside, it’s clean in here, just very old and outdated.
“Sorry about the smell,” Iris says as she stands back, allowing me to take a look around. “It’s been closed up in here for quite a while, but everything is clean. The hot water works fine and there’s no issues with the electrical that I’m aware of. It comes fully furnished.”
I walk around the room. The kitchen and living room are practically the same space, and in the ad the place was listed as a two bedroom, which is more than enough space for me. “How much is it again?”
“It’s a four-hundred-dollar deposit plus another four hundred for the first month’s rent, so eight hundred in total to move in.”
Before she has a chance to say another word, I say, “I’ll take it.”
She lifts her eyebrows in surprise. “You will? Okay . . . well . . . let’s see . . . I need you to come back to the office and fill out a renter’s agreement. Rent will be due on the first of every month, and there’s a twenty-five-dollar late charge if you’re more than a week late.”
“Fair enough.”
Her green eyes focus on my face as if she’s attempting to figure me out, and she holds out the keys to me. “Welcome to the neighborhood, Mister . . .”
“Johnson, Ace Johnson.” I tell her my real name, not the one I’m known to the world by, but don’t offer a smile.
I have to resist her allure no matter how nice she is to me.
When I don’t go into any more details about myself, she says, “Come on. Let’s get that paperwork done.”
As soon as I fill out the form, I give Iris eight hundred dollars in cash and walk out of the office. I can tell she believes I’m an asshole, and I hate that things have to be that way, because she seems nice, but it’s best for both of us if we don’t get involved. The crazy life I lead would chew up and spit out a nice little country bumpkin like Iris.
Once I leave, I grab my bike and push it over to the designated parking area next to my trailer, go inside, and shut myself off from the world.