Shana Snell lived in the trailer to our right and was the only girlfriend I had. She'd befriended me, a scrawny girl with red-rimmed eyes and a single battered suitcase, on the day I returned to Canyon.

Grandma Danner had put me on a Greyhound bus, folded a photo into my hand and promised that my mother - this woman in the picture - would be waiting for me at the other end. She'd given me one last long look, then turned and walked away without a backward glance.

No one had been waiting when I had arrived, so I sat on the curb, shaking despite the heat, and waited.

And waited.

Two hours later, a long-haired man reeking of stale cigarettes and motor oil pulled up in a battered old Chevy.

"You Layla?" he'd asked through the open window.

"Yes sir," I'd said.

He'd jerked his head, motioning to the passenger seat. "Get in."

What choice did I have but to go?

He didn't say a single word to me on the drive to my mother's trailer. Instead, he bobbed his head and sang along to the Country Rock blaring through the radio. I'd clutched my backpack tight to my body and willed myself not to cry.

The ride had turned bumpy when we made the turn into Shangri-La, as smoothly paved pavement gave way to broken concrete and overgrown grass.

Everything was gray that day, the sky, the ground, the color of the man's tank top, and the ashes of his cigarette falling carelessly onto his stained jeans.

Haphazardly strewn amongst the scraggly lawn were gray trailers of different sizes and shapes, of varying conditions. Most of them were old, weather beaten, and sagging into the ground, their air conditioning units drooping from graying windows. Older model cars, half of them on cinder blocks with their hoods up, were parked in the dirt in front of them.

Topless men with giant, pale guts were sitting on lawn chairs, clutching beers and watching their naked babies run through the narrow streets.

I'd swallowed hard as the man rolled to a stop in front of a particularly battered trailer with a torn, frayed and sun-bleached red awning.

"This is it," the man had said, bobbing his head and drumming his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the music. "Get out."

"Is my... mother here?"

"Hell if I know, kid. Now get. I've got places to be."

I'd thanked him, dragged my suitcase out onto the dirt and watched him drive away, his tires kicking up a big cloud of red dust behind him.

No one had answered when I knocked on the trailer's door, but it was unlocked so I peeked in.

I'd spent a fair amount of time living in RVs before, when I accompanied my daddy on the Rodeo circuit. Daddy was a big star so we always got the best one, roomy with shiny new floors, polished counter tops, hardwood paneling, and my favorite - fancy overhead LED lighting that I would spend hours adjusting with the remote control to make it just-so. I'd loved being on the road with him.

This one was nothing like that.

I'd recoiled at the odor of stale cigarette smoke and perfume, and cringed at the piles of dirty dishes that lay around on stained Formica counters. Clothes and jewelry were strewn everywhere, the mess so bad I could hardly make out the filthy, mustard colored carpeting below.

No mother.

I'd been sitting alone on the steps, with my head buried against my knees, when Shana Snell had found me and taken me under her wing.

*****

It's funny how you get used to things. It was still the same park and the same people, but I hardly noticed the desperation of the place anymore.

It was what it was.

Shana sat on a lawn chair in front of her trailer, her hair carefully wrapped in pink foam curlers. A hundred degrees plus or not, she wore a leopard printed robe and had fuzzy purple slippers covering her feet. A Harlequin novel in one hand and a red Solo cup and cigarette in the other, she glanced up at the sound of Jake's engine.

My lips curled in a smile. Over time, I'd hesitantly learned to accept what I was, but this one - she was Poor White Trash, and proud of it. No, proud was too weak a word. She reveled in it. In fact, she went out of her way to make sure she lived up to every stereotype out there because it made her laugh.

"Don't worry too much about it," she was fond of saying. "Just do all you can do and let the rough end drag."

I loved her for her confidence and always-positive outlook on life. And sometimes I wondered if I too, could've found my happiness here, had I stayed here with my mom from the beginning. The world I knew with my daddy was a stark contrast to the world I know now, and I have to think, had I not had a taste of normalcy, would I long for it so much? Daddy and I were never rich - not even close. He was far too generous with his money, but we were always comfortable, and I never was in want of anything.

By the time Jake and I pulled into our lot, Shana was at the edge of her seat, craning her neck and staring with unabashed curiosity.

Once she realized it was me, she quickly dropped the cigarette, exhaled a long stream of smoke, and waved her hand in front of her mouth to diffuse it.

When she stood, her robe split open, revealing an enormous belly.

She waddled over to the car just as Jake killed the engine and rammed her head into the open passenger side window.

"That you Jakey?"

"Hey Shana, long time."

She looked from Jake to me and frowned. "I didn't even know y'all knew each other."

Jake got out of the car and walked over to our side.

Shana gave him a languorous once-over. "I'd heard you were back in town," she said, stopping to whistle her approval. "Very, very nice. You filled out nicely."

He grinned and spoke to her stomach. "So've you."

"I'm pregnant dipshit," she said with a laugh, treating him to one of her smiles.

Shana was exuberant. She was pretty in an unconventional way, but she had a vitality to her that made her radiant and irresistible. When she smiled, even this hellhole seemed a brighter place. And although you couldn't exactly tell at the moment, she had an incredible body, all legs with big perky breasts and a perfectly shaped ass.

"But if I wasn't," she continued, "I'd take you to bed in a heartbeat."

Jake laughed.

"For now, a kiss'll do," she said, getting on her toes and tilting her head up toward him.

"You know I'm always up for kissing pretty girls," he said, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.

But before he could, she put her hands on either side of his face, turned it and planted a nice, wet one on his mouth. There was definitely tongue involved - and a lot of it too.

He laughed against her mouth, a wonderful sound, and kissed her back. "You sure you don't have a man in there loading up his shotgun right now?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I gotta man alright, but he's a poodle - ain't he Layla?" She kissed him once more - just a peck this time - then pulled away and used her thumbs to wipe the lipstick off his mouth. She glanced back into the car. "Why you still in that car honey?"

"She busted up her leg," said Jake.

Shana frowned at him. "You weren't involved, were you?"

"No ma'am."

"Good, because I know me and you have known each other since we was born, but you've been away for a while, and that one right there's been living right by me and keeping me company. It means things, you know?"

Without warning, Shana turned and bellowed toward the open door of her trailer. "Billy! Get up off your butt and get out here. Layla's hurt."

Billy, a giant, gentle bear of a man appeared in the doorway wearing his navy blue coveralls. Billy was twenty and apprenticing for a plumber out in town.

"Hey Billy," I said. "You on your way to work?"

"I gotta few minutes."

"Get her out of that car will you? She's gone and busted up her leg."

A man of few words, Billy did as he was tasked without preamble, easily lifting me out of the seat.

Shana had already unfolded a second lawn chair beside her. "Put her right here."

For the second time that day, I was unceremoniously plunked down into a seat. "I saw that cigarette," I scolded. "You know you shouldn't be doing that when you're pregnant."

Shana nodded and waved her hand dismissively, leaning over to drag over a crate to prop my foot on. "I know. I barely smoked that thing."

I turned to Billy. "Billy, don't let your girl smoke, it's bad for your baby."

Billy nodded.

"I've got it from here. Both y'all can go back to work now," Shana said, dismissing them with a wave of her hand. She then braced her arms against the chair and eased herself down with a grunt.

"Phew! I'm as big as all hell and half of Texas," she said.

She really was.

"Only another month or so and the baby'll be here." I told her.

"Lord willing and the creek don't rise," she said, then turned to me with shrewd eyes. "What's all this business with Jake then?"

I sniffed the red solo cup, gave Shana the stink eye and dumped the wine out onto the grass. "Where's Cadence?" I asked, referring to her two year old. Shana was only nineteen but already had a two year old. We went to school together for a year but she'd dropped out when she'd gotten pregnant with her first.

"With ma," she said, pointing to the fancy green trailer in the lot across from us.

Shana's entire extended family lived at Shangri-La. They were boisterous and crazy and close and loving, and it was hard not to envy them.

Shana snapped her fingers in my face. "But don't try and change the subject. I'm asking you about Jake."

"Speaking of Jake..." I said, "Have you two... you know..."

"Hmmm? Oh yeah, yeah. Many times. Long time ago though, and it was never nothin' serious."

I rolled my eyes.

Shana took my wrist in her hand and gave it a little shake, her big brown eyes earnest. "Listen to me Layla, I know he's real pretty to look at, but Jake's trouble. You're better off sticking with Moneybags."

I scowled. "Don't call him that."

"I just call 'em like I see 'em."

With my index finger, I traced circles around the water ring left behind by her cup. "What kind of trouble?"

She gave me a stern look. "So you are interested."

I shrugged and wished I hadn't poured out her wine. I could use a sip just about now. "It's just that everyone just says oh, he's bad news, oh, he's trouble and all that, but I don't see it. He's been nothing but nice to me."

Shana shook her head. "That's just his charm baby, and god knows, he's been graced with more than his fair share of that. But believe me when I tell you that he's got horns holding up that halo. Make no mistake about that."

She hesitated, chewing on her lower lip. "You know I don't like to talk nasty about other people and their business, but I'm telling you this because I care about you. Jake's no good for you. He's got a bad temper on him. A real mean one too."

I don't know why I felt so defensive at those words, but I did. "That was three years ago. He could've changed."

She was pensive for a while, a rare moment of introspection for Shana. Then she shrugged. "Might've. But you know his daddy right?"

Who didn't? My mom was the town whore, and Earl Waites was the town drunk. He spent his days drinking, brawling, and getting arrested, and had been for the last two decades.

"I've heard stories."

"Now there's a real mean son of a bitch. I remember, he used to beat on Jake and his mama so bad when he was little... but that's neither here nor there. What I'm tryin' to say is, the apple don't fall very far from the tree."

I'm sure Shana didn't mean it, but if that were true, what would it mean for me?

"I don't think you're being fair to him," I said.

"Honey, he beat a man to death."

"Not to death," I corrected.

"He tell you that did he?" she asked, squinting. "Did he also tell you that the man he beat on is now a quadriplegic?"

The horror must've shown on my face because she nodded. "I didn't think so. It's true though, he can't move nothin'. He lays in bed all day crapping his pants and waits to die. Would've been more merciful if Jake had finished him off, if you ask me."

I couldn't think of anything to say.

Shana frowned. "I used to wonder, back when it happened I mean, if he had done it on purpose - left him alive I mean..."

"Who was it? The guy he... assaulted."

Shana glanced around nervously and licked her lips. She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it. "Just some guy."

Liar.

"Listen, let's not dig up all that bad business. Tell me, what in hell happened to your ankle?"

"Shana, why'd he do it? There had to have been a reason. Who else was involved?"

Shana froze for a moment, then quickly picked up her book. "You'll need to read this one after I'm done. The dirty parts are mind-blowing."

I put my hand on her book and pushed it away from her face. "Tell me."

When Shana's eyes met mine, I knew she was going to say something important. Shana rarely took life seriously, but this was one of the moments she did.

"Tell me," I urged.

"I've said too much already. Don't go sticking your nose where it don't belong honey. Not everything over in that part of town is what it seems."

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