Trailer thoughts.
James had really enjoyed living in a trailer, that one summer he and his grandparents had had to. It weren't the last time they had stay in a trailer, but it was the first, and he remembered it pretty well. Somethin' about bugs and new carpet and old walls with asbestos or something, James didn't really care. That summer, Gramps rented a little blue and yellow striped trailer, and they got a small plot of land in the local trailer park. It was basically like camping, 'cept James didn't have to leave none of his friends behind, and they weren't just eatin' cans of beans and fried eggs.
Gramma didn't like it as much as Gramps and James, always complainin' about the neighbors and whether they was being a good influence on her grandson. James tried not ta let her know that he had already known more'n half of the kids in the park before they had moved in for the summer, 'cause, heck, they was just the funner kids at his school. Back in their old neighborhood, most of the kids were like to make fun of James fer livin' with his grandparents and sometimes even ragged on 'im fer his gram's handknitted sweaters or gramps's old boots he wore during kick-the-can. Weren't no point in scuffin' up his school shoes, but them kids seemed ta think it were the funniest thing they had ever seen.
Them kids in the park, though, they were more like ta admire his gramps's steel-toed boots fer what they were -- damn good at playin' in and, more'n that, a good defense if it were needed. Heck, seemed like most of 'em didn't live with their natural-born parents anymore than he did, so that didn't hurt. On top of that, James liked the way they lived. Even if their trailer had grown moss on its wheels, it always seemed like any of the familes there could've just uprooted and rolled off at anytime. They was like gypsies, which James had read about and admired quite a lot. James read Danny, the Champion of the World five times through that summer and wished like all heck he lived in a caravan or a trailer or somethin' all year 'round.
Trailer park families seemed ta understand the value of a dollar, too. While the kids back in their normal neighborhood would just waste their nickels on a bundle a wax lips and maybe a malt, kids in the park saved their money up for good, quality things. Well, it were more like they didn't have any money to save up, but the families there seemed to have nicer things, maybe 'cause they didn't have no mortgage to pay off -- whatever that was, James didn't know, but his grandpa certainly complained about it enough -- but James saw more televisions in the park that summer than on his normal street fer a whole year. And they had some nice cars, too! Sure, most of 'em were broken down or needin' some minor repairs, and only one or two actually ran enough ta take you around the block, but, still. Them park families had nice shit.
James was sad when they turned their trailer back into the rentin' place and moved back into their re-carpeted house, the one with no more bugs or abestos or whatever. He wanted ta go back to that feelin' of living free, with no ties, just whatever ya scrounged up. He liked that.