[blogster]

Synopsis: Learning to live in a travel trailer and dealing with issues



When my wife and I were engaged, we could not afford a home or housing rent and I blame this on auto insurance policies for young males. Instead of house hunting, we went travel trailer shopping. We found a 1970's 29-foot trailer with everything we needed to start our lives together. We parked it on my brother's 5-acre lot and called it home.

Trailers are different than houses as we learned very quickly. When we had it delivered, the pervious owner showed us the tips and tricks to running and maintaining everything inside and out. The toilet had a special procedure to flush properly, a knob in the sink operated the shower, and the fridge had to be spark lit in order to run off the propane. We retained as much information as we could but naturally forgot a few minor details such as filling the propane tanks and dumping the sewage holding tank.

A few months into our new home on wheels, things started to fall apart. One evening, winters bitter chill had set in and froze our water supply hose. Using a hair blow dryer, I was able to get the hose disconnected. I folded it up and dropped it into my brother's bathtub so the warm water could melt the ice. I wrapped the hose in insulation and re-ran it to the trailer. That night I left the water running in the sink so it would not freeze again.

The next morning my wife and I awoke and sat up into the steam from our lungs. The heater had stopped working and it was ice cold inside. We shook off the headaches we had woken up to and noticed a scent of garlic in the air. I immediately ran out into the snow and shut off the gas supply as I suspected a propane leak would cause the headaches and raw stench. With the doors and windows open, we sat there with ice crystals forming in our eyes as we waited for the lingering gas to dissipate. I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air and noticed it felt warmer out in the open than inside of the trailer. Sheet metal has a way of making harsh elements feel worse than they are. Upon re-entering the trailer, I set my foot into a puddle of icy water. The floor sunk in and tiny bubbles formed as I pressed my foot down in it. Remembering the water I had left on the night before, I ran to the bathroom to check the holding tank. I opened the toilet to find it over flowing with water and emitting a strong gassy odor. I shut off the water and noticed spraying sound coming from the bedroom. As I looked under the bed, I could see the water heater had sprung a leak and saturated everything under the bed. When the heater when out, the room got so cold it froze the water heater lines and crack the pipes.

I tracked down an electric space heater and tried to dry out the floor before I went out to dump the septic tank. As I reached for the drain valve, I noticed it was already open. I then remembered that I had left it open intentionally on my last drain so that all the sewage would run right into the septic tank underground and eliminate the need to dump the holding tank.

I grabbed hold of the hose that leads from the holding tank to the septic and said a long prayer for protection from any harm or discomfort that could come to me by detaching this sewage artery while the tank was overflowing with used hamburger meat and pasta salad. I pulled the fitting loose and ran from the scene. I stood behind a tree and watched as a few droplets of brownish yellow fluid hung from the plastic opening and swayed in the breeze. I sunk closer and looked into the opening of this gaping pipe to see a solid wall of toilet paper and other colorful solids. Apparently leaving the tank valve open allowed the fluids to drain but left the solids to build up and accumulate. A single flush of water from each use was not enough to pressure force the entire contents down the hose and into the ground where it belongs. I grabbed a stick, poked a hole into the top section of the wall, and quickly reattached the drain hose. I ran into the bathroom and peered into the open toilet with a flashlight. Beneath the stench, I could see a group of tiny pale white creatures scurrying about looking for refuge from the light as if it somehow penetrated their skin or burned them while exposed to it. Their bodies looked the consistency of freshly cooked spaghetti noodles. The shape was that of little men not but a quarter inch tall with long legs but no arms or defined head. They stood upright and ran about climbing the mountain of mush, jumping over craters and layers of toilet paper and waste. They periodically stopped to arch their backs as if they were looking up at me but I saw no face, mouth nose, or eyes. My stomach turned and I felt sick as I watched them. It was as if I saw something I had no business seeing and it felt like I had broken a sacred code or pact or some sort. I filled a 5-gallon pail with water and closed my eyes as I dumped it in the mouth of the bowl, flushing the system and stirring the lot with a stick. I removed the outside drain cap again and rammed a stick through the barrier breaking the dam causing a flooding mound of mass to build at my feet. I sifted through a few layers in search of my discovery ready to document it but hoping that I would not have to see them again. I wonder what they are for. Why they run and jump under a blanket of light, what they do in the depths of stench, amongst the undigested chunks of peanuts and stringy meat. Do they wait? Do they think about ways to become tolerant to light so they can reveal themselves and takeover the world? Have they ever tried wrapping themselves in Sherman toilet paper or making an umbrella and running for the exit? Are they waiting for their skin to adapt to light rays? Are they waiting for us to pass the vital component needed to finish construction of a cat sized radio controlled element protective transportation device?

I never again did see the aliens while sorting through those piles of rot, but sometimes I wonder if they are still there... in the dark and out of mans eye... just standing and waiting... just being what they are, disgusting my mind and eating my waste.

[Aleox]

That was... a reflective personal story trying to be a comedy suddenly turned into a sci-fi weird alien rant. If that's a genre, you hit it.

[Nephilim]

this is a decent story. it was funny at first, kindof in a quirky sort of way, but then it eventually came to the point that i didnt exactly know what i was reading. i trust you know the anatomy of a trailer much better than i, but i managed. naturally, the alien part confused the hell out of me. also, the arduous repitition in narration got old fast. starting 2 out of three sentances with I doesnt help the story flow, and there is more than one way to say you noticed something. theres potential here, but it need a lot of focus and refining before it will be something great.

[ejenk21]

This is going to have a limited appeal unless the reader knows a lot about trailers (I don't). Assuming that, then the earlier parts are probably funny enough. I would think that even for those folks you would have to get much funnier to override the repulsiveness of the aliens and their micro-world. I don't think it works as a horror story, if that is what you meant.

I suggest you break up the large paragraphs into smaller chunks.

[Kitzwa]

You had my attention at first, but than it got too technical for me when you started talking about the parts of a trailer. And, I don't know, maybe it is kind of funny that a guy found aliens in a septic tank, but it just doesn't work for me.

[maxaynjj]

I enjoyed this story, makes me want to never ever buy a trailer home!

Excellent read.

[mikeryancu]

It was a good story but after the first half I started to glaze over it and I would have to go back and re-read sentences. It was funny and amusing though, but too technical for the average reader. Maybe if you wrote something about a regular house where everything goes wrong. But this was a solid story.

Typo: When the heater when out

[mikeryancu]

It was a good story but after the first half I started to glaze over it and I would have to go back and re-read sentences. It was funny and amusing though, but too technical for the average reader. Maybe if you wrote something about a regular house where everything goes wrong. But this was a solid story.

Typo: "When the heater when out"

[tanminhhuynh]

I agree with the comments left by the numerous people above me. At first, it caught my attention, but as the story progressed, I lost interest to be honest, no offense, just sort of technical at first, but over all, good job!

[RENA HANDS]

One evening, winters bitter chill…

It should be

winter’s

What saying…

we had woken up with?

Why would you stay in a location where there is dangerous gas?

I would say…

I noticed a spraying sound coming from the bedroom.

What about...

I noticed a hissing sound radiating from the bedroom.?

I lost interest. Sorry. I would extended the details and action but not with so much with procedural execution.
Not that I haven't done such things when I started writing. Heck, I still do it but then return and edit my errors.

[3lack3ox]

Interesting enough...I have to say it seemed like 2 different stories to me. The first part having a sort of National Lampoonish quality, but transforming into something different at the end. As Aleox stated earlier, I got lost on the waste\sewage pipe\alien part...it all seemed to run together a bit.

I think with the right phrasing though...you could actually make 2 good stories from this one.

[ms_mae572]

Wow, you went from a broken trailer to waste eating ailens. Random, but it held my attention. It was a great read!

[timtornado3721]

That second to last paragraph was humongous! Do you think its possible to perhaps cut it down into smaller, easier to eat bites? Just thought I should point that out.

The story started out with Murphy's Law in every corner with the slight comedic "Oh crap, what now?" style but as soon as you start to focus on the septic tank and the little "things" you lose that power in your story. It goes from comedy to something Eternal Pen would write. No offense to him though, I love his stories. But with yours you go from one story to a completely new one without the same plot or genre. You gotta try and stay consistent unless it's sole purpose is to switch rapidly in random ways.