Boxcar Boys

Chapter Three

Henry's grandma's house didn't look like the most promising place to spend a few nights, let alone a single night.

The house wasn't even a legit house. It was a run-down mobile home, with aluminum siding and was painted ugly blue. A old Toyota sat rusting away beside the door. The place where it was situated didn't look great either. The entire trailer park had trash strewn all over the place and there was graffiti on almost every RV or trailer.

Christopher was uneasy, and I could see why. We could get robbed, or jumped in the middle of the night. But we had really no choice.

We walked up to the door, and Henry knocked on it. The door squeaked open, and Henry's grandmother emerged into the open.

She was a frail, willowy woman, with thinning hair. She swayed at the doorway. An newspaper was clutched in one fist.

"Whaddya you boys want? I got no money to buy goddamn popcorn."

Henry stepped up and spoke.

"Grandma? I am your grandson, Henry. Can we stay a few nights at your place?"

Henry's grandma peered at Henry.

"You really Henry? Cause that Henry I know lives all the way in Sutter's Creek. Because, if you are trying to pass yourself off as him......." her voice trailed off.

"What, Grandma?"

"You are really Henry." She said at last, "Why, those blue eyes and freckles. It must be you."

"Of course Grandma. I am Henry. Can we come in?"

"Of course, Henry, why, I haven't seen you since.....since......"

"Since when, Grandma?"

"Since you were a tiny toddler. Come in, come in."

Henry started shuffling in.

Henry's grandma motioned to us.

"Come in, boys. You must be Henry's friends. Come in."

We all shuffled inside into the mobile home, which looked much nicer than the exterior.

The entire mobile home was paneled with some kind of faux woodgrain, which I only saw when I saw photos of the 1980's. The little kitchen had a gas stove and a fridge. A dining table was located in the same kitchen. A hallway lead down, rooms branching all along it.

Henry's grandmother turned and asked us boys,

"Now, what would you boys like to eat? Chicken and bell peppers?"

"Yes, grandma." Henry answered, and she brought a iron skillet out and dumped a bunch of frozen chicken and bell pepper slices in. The sizzling could be heard across the room.

She then portioned the food onto four paper plates and served it to us, with plastic sporks to eat with.

"Thank you, Grandma." Henry said.

Christopher, George and I were sitting silently, afraid to talk.
Henry's grandma turned to us.

"You kids mute or something?"

"No." Christopher said, "We don't know this place very well." He gave her a forced smile.

"Well, boys, if you want to spend the night, get that mattress from the hallway closet, and go sleep in the spare bedroom. Someone could sleep on the cot. I ain't got sheets. Remember, you said only a few nights." She turned and shuffled over to the stove.

"Money's tight boys, my heatin' had been turned off months ago by the damn Pacific Gas and Electric. Those corporate scumbags want that dough so bad."